Page 18 of Wrangling Nash

“I think it’s a requirement.”

“Yes, I’m single. I broke up with a guy I’d been dating for six months before moving here, though I’m not sure he’s gotten the picture yet according to a text he sent me last night.”

He grinned. “Well, if he causes you any issues, you let me know.” He bunched his fists up and smashed them into each other.

“I’ll be sure to do that, Clay,” I chuckled.

“Hey,” he flipped on his stomach to face me again, “you ever try moonshine? I make mine homemade and have some with me. It’d be a good way to kill a Saturday if you're up for an adventure...”

Chapter 15: Jovie

After Clay and I had indulged in his homemade watermelon moonshine—questionably legal but undeniably potent—we found ourselves in fits of laughter, sprawled out in the living room, watching a marathon of hilarious YouTube videos with cats performing human activities.

Spending time with Clay was easy. We fell into an easy friendship filled with laughter, teasing and inside jokes that had been formed in only a matter of hours. He felt like the younger brother I’d never had and the only ally who was rooting for me to succeed this next year.

We eventually succumbed to sleep well after midnight, only to awaken midday on Sunday to the persistent ringing of Clay’s phone, blaring a Sublime song.

“Can you please get that? It sounds like the band is performing a concert in my head,” I called out from my position on the floor, buried under three pillows and a blanket Clay had tossed me before we fell asleep.

Clay groggily searched the couch where he’d fallen asleep until he located his phone and answered without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” he croaked.

Pause.

“Yeah, I’m with her.”

Pause.

“She’s fine, calm down.”

Pause.

“Chill out, bro.”

Pause.

“Because you and Wylie were out, and I didn’t have plans. I wanted to go swimming and she wasn’t doing anything.”

Pause.

“It’s none of your business.”

Another pause, followed by a loud sigh from Clay.

“Stop acting like Dad. I’d never poison her. It’s my homemade batch, and Jovie wouldn’t say anything. Unlike you, she’s actually cool and fun.”

I smiled at Clay’s words as I mustered the energy to drag myself off the floor and crawl to the kitchen for water, coffee, and ibuprofen.

As I finally regained my bearings, I could hear Clay concluding the call with a frustrated “Whatever, Nash.”

Joining me in the kitchen a few seconds later, Clay rolled his eyes. “Nash can be such an ass sometimes.”

“Is that who called?” I asked, feigning ignorance about the conversation I’d overheard.

“Yeah, he was pissed I hadn’t answered my phone all evening or night yesterday. I had twenty fucking missed calls and text messages from him. I must not have heard it over the videos we were watching. He said he was about to drive over here and make sure you were okay, like he was scared I was going to poison you with the moonshine or take advantage of you.” He rolled his eyes again.

I chuckled, though I felt a flush creeping over my cheeks. The thought of Nash being concerned about me stirred something inside of me, but then I remembered Clay mentioning he had been out on a date yesterday.

---