Meet Me in the Vines: An Oakwood Valley Series

Chapter 1

10 YEARS AGO

“Donovan James King.”

The entire auditorium erupts in a rip-roaring cheer. Oakwood Valley’s golden boy struts down the stage with his winning grin, flashing his charm and confidence all over the place. The entire soccer team is pumping their fists as they chant his name. The administrative staff applaud with endearing respect—I swear I even saw a tear or two shed by the PTA moms. There’s no use in holding back my smile. The boy is contagious. That’s what the Donovan King effect does to you.

Donovan strides over to Mr. Frommling, earning a beam of pride from Oakwood Valley’s notoriously tough-nut principal with a firm handshake.

Stop thinking about what else those hands can do, Audrey.

My heart races as I watch him take his diploma and pump his fist over his head, exposing his perfectly sinewy forearm. Instinctively, I lick my lips.

“I love you, Mom!” he yells into the crowd of families, causing a wave of laughs and sighs of adoration. I turn around to see my grandparents sitting near Donovan’s family. We lock eyes and I give an enthusiastic wave in their direction. The smile in their eyes says it all. My heart instantly warms at the glow on their faces as they blow me a kiss. I blow a kiss in return, turning around in my seat to face the stage.

A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my stomach as I observe Donovan warmly hugging his teachers and sharing high-fives with our peers on his way off the stage.

He shuffles his way through a row of classmates to get back to his seat, beaming a smile that has my heart going a mile a minute.

My attention draws to Jess Taylor and Rosie Teak sitting in front of me, whispering salaciously to each other.

“Are you gonna hook up with Donovan at his grad party tonight?” Rosie smirks at Jess. Jess has the attention of every boy in this town. Her silky blonde locks cascade down her slender shoulders, stopping past her massive tits—like DDs since the seventh grade. Icy blue eyes frame the feminine features on her face: a perfectly slant nose and full lips. It’s so annoying how hot she is. Not only does she have the beauty, she’s got the brains too. Oh, and money. Lots of it.

Her family owns the largest vineyard operation in Oakwood Valley, sitting pretty on a whopping two hundred and fifty acres. Although we live in a small town, wine country competition is a real thing. Donovan’s family has the second largest vineyard, automatically crowning them the Napa County Prince and Princess. Gag. Officially, they never dated—but the rumor mill would have you believe otherwise.

“Oh my god, Rosie, have some class,” Jess says sarcastically, giggling under her breath. “But yes,” she whispers with a hair toss, “I am totally gonna go all the way with him tonight.”

I roll my eyes and feel a sudden wave of sadness—and a bit of jealousy. I never get invited to parties; I didn’t even know the Kings were throwing one. And that says a lot, considering how small our town is. I only have myself to blame for not trying hard enough to put myself out there these past four years. It wasn’t like Gran and Pop were keeping me from socializing or anything. I just preferred the company of characters in books and getting lost in whatever world I was imagining versus my reality. I truly only had one real friend, and she moved to Texas our sophomore year. She was the only one who could get me out of my books. Well, her…and a certain blue-eyed boy who holds the entire town in the palm of his hand.

Donovan King has been every girl’s crush since elementary school. Including mine. Still is. There’s no way to avoid his effortless charm—how it naturally drapes around him like a superhero cape—or his stunning smile that makes the world rotate on its axis. The best part about him? Zero god complex. Not an ounce of conceit in his gorgeous body, even if it looks like it’s been sculpted by Zeus himself. Anytime he’s in my vicinity, on a scale of one to can’t function? I’m at can’t fucking function.

I fidget with the ends of my academic cord wrapped around my neck, my eyes fixed on Donovan in the distance as he laughs with the classmates near him. I’d love to make him laugh one day. Those dimples he sports would be the death of me. I’ve always loved those dimples.

The first time I saw them, I was sitting on the balcony outside my room reading a book when I heard footsteps approaching below. I glanced up for a moment to see the sweetest matching dimples smiling at my pop. My first glimpse of Donovan King. And lucky me, I got to steal plenty of looks at Donovan, both at school and when he’d come to our estate to work with his dad. My family’s winery uses the King’s grapes for production and has for generations.

Although we ran in different circles, our interactions were subtle, yet memorable. At least for me. It’d be brief exchanges of kind smiles or a simple “hey” in the classes we shared. Every time it made my heart flutter.

My shoulders jump as the announcer lists off the Ws, directing us to stand from our chairs and head towards the stage. “You can do this, Audrey,” I whisper to myself. I chose a low, chunky heel this morning to prevent myself from eating shit on stage. I summon all the confidence within me, proud of my achievement of graduating Summa Cum Laude at the top of our class.

“Isabel Nicole Whitt.” Shit. I’m next.

Feet don’t fail me now.

I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders back, and steel my spine. I scan the crowd to find my grandparents. As my eyes wander, a beautiful set of blue eyes finds mine. Donovan is smiling at me. That irresistible, impossible-not-to-faint smile. Time stands still. He’s clapping, our gazes locked onto one another. The beauty of this boy is so unfair. God truly has his favorites. The sound in the gym dampens as Donovan and I hold each other in an intense stare. My mouth falls open as I bite my lower lip, utterly captivated by his deep, blue gaze. His hand motions forward while he mouths, “Go!”

“Ahem…Audrey Wren Winthrop.”

I snap out of my trance and awkwardly hustle along the stage, stumbling when I get to Mr. Frommling. Kill me now. The principal catches my arm and stabilizes me, giving me a concerned smile. I don’t make eye contact out of embarrassment, ignoring the raucous sound of my classmates’ laughter. I shake his hand with haste, grab my diploma, and get the fuck off stage. I slink back to my seat, cheeks burning with humiliation.

I see Jess and Rosie whisper something to each other, look back at me, then laugh again. An unexpected wave of rage surfaces.

“Something funny?” I ask.

They turn back, shocked that I’m talking to them.

“Excuse me? Are you talking to us?” Jess asks with her eyebrows nearly up to her hairline.

No shit, Sherlock. I’m talking to you.

“Uh, yeah. Clearly? Did you find something amusing?” I snap. Jess Taylor made sure I stayed in her shadow ever since our freshman year. I’m not sure why, considering I didn’t see myself as a threat to her. It would be so little as an eye roll as I passed her down the hallway or a light snicker while I ate my lunch. What did I ever do to her? Now that I’ve walked the stage and I’m one step closer to leaving this town, it’s clear that the courage from this confrontation stems from simply not giving a fuck anymore.

Jess thins her lips, and Rosie gives her a look, their eyes darting back to me.

“Nope. Nothing amusing at all,” Jess mutters, flipping her blonde locks in my face as she whips back around.

That’s what I thought.

I cross my arms and legs, gripping into the flesh of my arms, leaving little half moon imprints from my fingernails. I take a deep breath and count backward from five—something my gran taught me when I was little.

It’s almost over, Audrey.

The last of our classmates grab their diplomas, shuffling back to their seats. Mr. Frommling gives the closing ceremony speech as my chest bubbles with excitement. The anticipation builds throughout the room, an undeniable energy vibrating off everyone in a cap and gown. Our school song plays over the intercom as everyone sings loudly at the top of their lungs, knowing it’s the last time we will be in this auditorium as students. We link pinkies and sway, chanting the final words of the song.

Oakwood Valley proud! Oakwood Valley bred! Oakwood Valley through and through, forever blue and red!

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Oakwood Valley High School Class of 2014!”

Roars fill the gymnasium. Caps fly into the air. Only seventy-seven of us are graduating, but it sounds like a stadium of thousands. A wave of relief washes over me as I smile at the ceiling–I did it.

I side-hug a couple of classmates around me and look to the ground to find my cap. As I bend down, a sudden spark ignites in my fingertips as a large, strong hand skims mine, deftly lifting my cap.

“Hey, Audrey,” he says brightly.

I struggle to catch my breath. Glimmers of gold sparkle near his irises, framed by tendrils of chocolate-brown hair that peek out from under his graduation cap. As he beams, his sturdy jawline flexes, giving way to the irresistible charm of his dimples.

“H-hh-i Donovan,” I stutter. He smiles at me softly, handing me my cap.

“I’m having a grad party tonight at my place, and I wanted to see if you’d like to come?” he asks, catching me off guard. My eyes get wide, swallowing the hard lump in my throat.

Holy shit!

“U-uh, I mean yeah. Yes. Of course. I’d love to come to your party,” I reply a little too enthusiastically, like I forgot how to talk properly. Did he just find me in the crowd to invite me to his party? My stomach does somersaults, flipping and twisting my insides. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from showing an embarrassing giddy smile.

“That’s great,” he beams, putting his hand on my shoulder. His touch alone erupts goosebumps down the length of my arms. “I can’t wait to see you. And hey, congratulations on NYU. It’s a bit far though, don’t you think?” he asks.

His question throws me a little, but I can feel his genuine curiosity. Most of our class is staying in California for college, but I didn’t want to. I need to get out of this small town.

“NYU has an amazing hospitality program. My dream is to open my own bed-and-breakfast one day,” I reply.

I don’t know why I am sharing this with Donovan in the middle of the chaos, but he’s easy to be around. And that scares me. Is it always this easy around him? Or is this just his Donovan King magic that works on all the girls?

He gives me a smile that’s ear to ear. When Donovan smiles, his eyes do too.

“That’s amazing, Audrey. I’m so happy for you. You’re going to crush it in New York. Don’t forget about us when you’re out there in the big city,” he gushes.

I could never forget you, Donovan King.

My cheeks flush at his compliment.

“I’ll see you tonight! Seven o’clock! Promise me you’ll be there!” he shouts while walking backward, his voice getting further away.

“I promise!” I shout back. He gives me a wink and waves me off as he disappears into the arms of his soccer team.

I look down and smile at the thought that Donovan King is excited to see me tonight at his party.

Take that, Jess Taylor.

“Audrey, honey!” My grandparents push through the crowd as I run towards them.

“Gran! Pop!”

“Oh honey, congratulations! We are so proud of you,” Gran beams, oozing with pride. She hugs me tight while Pop rests his hand on my shoulder and waits for his turn.

“She’s right, kid. We are so proud of you. How about we get home and dig into your favorite cake to celebrate?” Pop asks, knowing cake is my weakness. Any dessert, really. My gran is the best baker. I’d give my kidney for her chocolate cake.

My eyes light up, and I hold them both tight, my arms around their waists as we head toward the gym exit. “That sounds amazing. But after, I may have plans...” I mumble.

Pop tilts his head to the side at my words and lifts one of his eyebrows. “Plans, huh?” I look up at him, smiling.

“Mhmm.”

Gran gives me a mischievous grin. “Does this plan include a boy?” she teases. Gran and Pop raised me for as long as I can remember. My mother died giving birth to me, so Gran has always been the motherly figure in my life. She’d lend an ear when I’d talk about boys or have questions about love. She always knows the right things to say.

“Maybe,” I sing, smiling at them both. “Donovan King invited me to his grad party. I think I’m going to go.”

We pause at their car. “I never get to go to parties, and he invited me…personally.” I look down, smiling, thinking back to the moment he found me in the crowd.

My grandparents give each other a look and nod. “Well, kid, you’re eighteen after all, and it is your graduation. As long as you don’t drink and drive, you should go have fun with your classmates and celebrate,” Pop says with a smirk. He always inserts the safety quip, but it makes me love him more for it.

I give them both a kiss on the cheek and squeeze them tight. “Thank you. I’ll meet you both back at the house for cake,” I chirp. We wave each other off, and I grab my keys and head towards my car.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my dress, and I grab it, thankful for the saint who decided women deserve pockets too. I flash a huge smile as I answer the phone. “Heyyy Tia!” I beam. My best friend screeches happily into the phone, causing me to flinch at the piercing decibel of her voice. Ever since she moved, it’s been the hardest two years without her.

“Congrats on graduating, bitch!” she shouts, grunting like a linebacker at the word bitch. I laugh, shaking my head at her crassness, but honestly? I love her special way of showing affection. “Well, this bitch got invited to the hottest party in town,” I say proudly, like it’s the biggest accomplishment outside of my 4.0 GPA.

“Would it happen to be Donovan King’s party?” she croons. I can hear Tia’s smile on the other end of the line. How the hell did she know about the party? She continues, as if reading my mind. “It’s all over social media, Audrey. If I lived closer, I’d totally be there! It sounds like the entire town is going.”

I feel a small pang in my chest when she says that. Like my personal invite isn’t special anymore because apparently the whole town is going to be there.

I sigh. “Oh, well, you know I don’t do social media, so I wouldn’t have known.” Trying not to sound hurt. Ever since my dad made headlines in the paper when I was thirteen, I made the choice to stay off social media once I got older. The kids at school were already whispering around me, gossiping about my family and the drama behind it all. I didn’t need to read it on the internet either. Tia knows that.

“Look, I love you and just wanted to congratulate you on finishing high school. I wish I were there to celebrate with you. I miss you so much, Auds.” My heart sinks.

I fumble with my keys and slide into the driver’s seat.

“I miss you too, bitch.”

We both laugh and sigh at the same time, which makes us laugh even harder. “I wish you were here too, T. Thank you for calling. It means the world. I have to head back to eat cake with my grandparents, but I’ll Skype you tomorrow, okay?”

“I can’t wait. And get some dick tonight at the King’s!”

She really knows how to get to the point.

“Aye aye, Captain,” I huff out a laugh, turning on the ignition.

“Love you, Auds, talk to you later.”

“Bye, T. Love you more.”

I pull out of the parking lot as the call ends and watch the grape-laden hills rise and fall outside my window as I drive back to the family winery.

It looks like a tornado went through my room. There are clothes everywhere, and it’s already 7:00 p.m., which means I am late.

“Ugh, nothing looks good on me!” I cry out in frustration and toss another not-quite-right top on the floor.

There’s a faint knock at the door. “Audrey, sweetheart, may I come in?” Gran asks sweetly.

I sigh and plop myself down on my bed, tossing on a baggy sleep t-shirt.

“Yes, Gran, come in.”

She softly opens the door and peeks in, ensuring I’m decent. Her eyes fill with concern at the sight of me lying on my back with tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

“Oh honey, what’s the matter? Can’t find a thing to wear tonight?” Gran’s forehead creases, softly shifting the stray hairs out of my face. I close my eyes as she brushes my hair through her fingers, so soft and delicate. She would do this for me after a bad day, instantly calming my nerves or negative feelings. My gran is special. Her aura glows like a rainbow, so full of life and color. It’s hard to stay upset with an angel like her in my life.

“It’s my first party, Gran. High school was supposed to be about making memories. I’ve been pretty terrible at that.” I let out with a sigh, “And I have nothing to wear.”

Gran gives me a soft smile and helps me sit up on the bed. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and holds my hands. “I remember when I was your age, I was feeling quite the same as you are now when your grandfather and I were about to go on our first date.”

I sit up taller, loving when she tells me stories.

“I wanted everything to go perfectly, and my mother came into my room and held my hands, just like I am yours.” She rubs her thumbs along the top of my hands. “She told me, ‘Violet, if that man doesn’t love how you look in a burlap sack, he’s not the one for you.’”

I let out a giggle, and she leans in and kisses my temple. “All that means is, what’s in here,” she points to my heart, “matters more than anything on the outside. Be present and live life for today. The older you get like me, the more you’ll understand. Can you try and do that for me, sweetheart?”

I wipe a single tear from my eye and hug her close. I bask in her scent of lavender and chamomile tea.

“Yes, Gran, I’ll do that. Thank you.”

She smiles and gives me a pat on my knee. “Great, now put on that burlap sack and have fun at your party that you are now—” She checks her watch. “Ten minutes late for.” She heads for the door when I feel a quiver of insecurity rise from my stomach.

“Wait, Gran?”

“What is it, honey?”

“What if I show up and he pays no attention to me? I mean, Donovan is literally the most loved boy in this town. Have you seen Mrs. Dickson practically maul him every time we are at the diner?! Even the old ladies can’t resist him!”

Gran puts her hands on her hips. “Hey now, I may be Mrs. Dickson’s age, but I am not old,” she teases.

“You know I didn’t mean that you are old, Gran,” I drawl playfully. “But what’s so special about me? I’m not Jess Taylor or any of those other popular girls. I’m just…” I run my hands up and down my body before I slap them dramatically on my lap. “I’m just me.” I sigh, running a defeated hand through my hair.

She hums, giving a pregnant pause. “Well, that’s just it, honey. You’re just you. And that’s more than enough for Donovan King. Don’t you think?” I feel a tug in the corners of my mouth. My grandmother always knows how to cheer me up when I am feeling small.

“And don’t think I didn’t miss him practically running to you after the ceremony today. A boy with a look in his eyes like that can only mean one thing.” She has my full attention now and my eyebrows raise in anticipation of what I hope she will say.

“And what’s that?” Butterflies start to form.

“That you will be the center of his night. Trust me on this, sweetheart.” She gives me a wink and blows me a kiss, but before she shuts my door, I hear her voice trail off. “I’ve always liked that boy….” The door quietly clicks closed with Gran’s footsteps receding, and I give myself a moment to digest her words, gripping the bed beneath me.

“You will be the center of his night.”

Her words echo through my mind.

He invited me to his party, after all. It didn’t feel like a pity invite either. It felt…genuine. Slowly, the insecurity and doubt that was rearing its ugly face earlier is fading. I puff my chest, lulling my head side to side before standing to my feet.

I feel a lot better after my pep talk with Gran, and she’s right—he came to find me in the crowd. If Gran thinks I’m enough, then I can believe it, too. Now let’s give Donovan King something to look at.

I sit down at my vanity and reapply some mascara, blush, and tinted strawberry gloss. I look in the mirror and spot an ivory sundress in my reflection that Gran gifted me last summer.

I turn around, my eyes smiling. It’s flowy with thin straps crisscrossing the back. It’s not too long, perfect to show a bit of leg. Tia tells me I’ve got great legs, so if there’s anytime to show them off, it’s tonight. It’s a bit low cut, but fuck it. Not that my boobs are huge, but I can fill out a dress. I definitely can’t wear a bra with this. Maybe he’ll enjoy that. I shake my head at the thought of anything happening with Donovan tonight. Yeah right, Audrey.

But I slip on a pair of white lace panties…just in case.

I decide to wear my hair down in loose waves and put on a pair of strappy wedges to give me some height. With the whole look together, I turn side to side in the mirror for final inspection. Not bad.

“Be the center of his night. Quit being a little bitch.”

My pep talks to myself aren’t as wise as Gran’s, but it’s enough for me to get my ass out the door.