Page 25 of The Story We Wrote

“I feel the same way,” I whispered, now looking down into my cup. “I’m insanely attracted to you. I think that’s obvious. Last night, I don’t know what came over me to act like that,” I said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I meant what I said,” Boone said. “I want to get to know you.”

I wanted that too. If it meant keeping my libido in check, I would find other ways to satisfy her. I’d never felt this attracted to someone, and it would take some getting used to. My next-door neighbor, the town’s “bad boy.” The rancher and my now friend.

“Me too,” I replied, finally looking up at him. Our eyes locked, Boone and I grinned at each other.

“Why don’t we head up to the main house and get some breakfast? After your night, I think you need something greasy to help with that hangover.” When he stood up, he tapped my knee. The sparks between us flew, electricity shot through my body. A reminder that I was totally fucked. How was I supposed to be friends with Boone if I couldn’t keep my dirty thoughts under control?

“Oh, please,” I moaned, tipping my head back. “Bacon sounds so good right now.”

Boone chuckled and grabbed my half-full coffee cup from my hands. “Let me run next door and throw some clothes on. I’ll be over in 10 minutes. Is that enough time?”

“Plenty!” I shouted, jumping from the couch and running towards the bedroom.

* * *

“No, I can’t believe you just admitted that out loud!” I said to Boone as we walked up the gravel sidewalk to the main house.

“Root beer is, in fact, better than Dr. Pepper, and you can’t change my mind,” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

I decided to not wear a dress this morning. Instead, I opted for black biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt. My hair was thrown in a messy bun with little strands falling out around my face and down my neck. My face was bare. I had zero energy to add make up just to go get some greasy breakfast at Boone’s parent house. Before meeting back up, I had to give myself a pep talk and reevaluate our relationship. I let my guard slip a little bit over the last week. If I wanted to keep hanging out with Boone, I needed to get my shit together.

I would let that man fuck me senseless, but I needed to shove those thoughts and feelings into a jar, sealing the lid tight. If I kept pushing boundaries, I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain my composure. The attention I got from Boone was misplaced in my mind. I made myself a promise, I would control my actions and manage a platonic relationship with Boone, Scout’s honor.

Boone and I walked into the kitchen where his mom was finishing up breakfast. I hadn’t been over since the initial dinner when they asked me to work at the farm stand. The house was just as cute as I remembered.

Boone approached Jill, giving her a kiss on the head. As an outsider, watching Jill and Boone interact warmed my heart.The love this family had for each other was clear through their actions and the millions of pictures on the walls. This house was a home.

“Hi, Mrs. Cassidy.” I waved, standing awkwardly at the edge of the island. I put both my hands on the cold marble, because what was I supposed to do with them? I knew I looked tense, I wasn’t not good in situations like this.

“Aspen, you can call me Jill,” She said with a sweet smile, walking towards the huge wooden block farm table in the dining room adjacent from the kitchen. Boone waved for me to follow him as he carried the plates behind his mom. “I made a breakfast casserole. All of the family favorites thrown together. Do you know how hard it is to make breakfast when everyone wants something different?”

No. I didn’t. My brother and I weren’t close, considering he was much older than me. When I was born, he was already going through teenage life and wanted nothing to do with family, which made life pretty lonely. I often felt I was an only child, navigating life by myself. I always knew my brother had my back; however, it didn’t feel like that until later in life.

“This looks delicious,” I said, smelling the bacon, eggs, and different spices. It looked like there was maybe sausage in there too? Jill took the plates and dished out four servings. That made me wonder if Boone’s dad would be joining us.

I grabbed my plate and placed it down in front of me. Jill sat across the table and the mysterious fourth plate sat next to her while Boone sat to my left. “The farm stand has been doing amazing,” Jill boasted in between bites of her casserole.

“Oh great!” I exclaimed, taking a fork full of food and putting it in my mouth. Jill was right. It tasted like every breakfast dish you could imagine. There was the saltiness from the meat and the sweetness from the fluffy layer of pancakes, or maybe french toast that sat on the bottom. I swallowed, basking in thedeliciousness. “I love working there. I know it’s only been a short time, but it’s rewarding,” I said.

“I haven’t seen the stand busier,” Boone said, laying down his fork and cleaning his mouth with his napkin.

“I’m so happy to hear that!” Jill smiled. “How’s everything working out? The jars have been a hit! The teachers at school are talking about them nonstop.”

I felt myself smile from ear to ear. “It’s going well! I have a few things lined up this week. I’m trying to introduce jewelry made by locals, homemade candles, and other cute gift type things.”

“Sorry I’m late.” A male voice came from around the wall. By the time I twisted in my chair, Boone’s dad was coming around the corner. He sat down next to his wife, wasting no time indulging in his breakfast. “Nice to see you, son,” he said, looking at Boone then shifting his gaze to me. “And you Aspen, always a pleasure.”

The four of us chatted for a little while longer. Breakfast had finished and we found ourselves caught up in conversation. Boone’s parents asked me questions about myself. I asked them about the ranch. It was nice having a family that took my opinions and thoughts without some kind of push back. Boone’s family was welcoming and, from what I could tell, judgment free.

That feeling washed away when my phone buzzed under my thigh. I grabbed it, checking the notification under the table. A text from my mom. It’s like she could read my mind. I suddenly felt guilty.

Mom: Hi sweetie! Were you free today? Your dad and I miss you and would love to see you.

I missed them too. The relationship I had with my family wascomplicated. I could take their ridicule and concerns in small doses. They meant well, but where Boone’s family seemed judgment-free, my family did the opposite. If you didn’t do something exactly how they would, there was a talking to. The fact I wanted to be a romance author? Forget it. Try explaining that to them. I’d been avoiding them since I started at the farm stand. My dad saw The Coffee Cup closing as an opportunity to “get a real job.” Despite the fact I was content, all he saw was that I wasn’t making a solid living, I was just getting by. After working at the farm stand, I didn’t know what I wanted to do to support myself until I could get a book published. I wanted to finally start writing but didn’t know where to begin. I’d been putting it off out of fear that I wouldn’t know what I was doing or how to even tell a story of something I’d never experienced.

I quickly typed a reply to my mom, knowing if I didn’t answer, she would call.

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