Page 12 of Clashing Moon

He brought the box over to the table and returned to the trunk, kneeling to peer inside. Seconds later, he chuckled as he hauled up my bottle of vodka.

“What?” I said, slightly embarrassed. “I told you I brought that up here last time.”

“No judgment from me,” Rafferty said. “I’m pleased to see it.”

I did a quick swipe of the table with a paper towel to make sure we didn’t have any crumbs on the surface before he dumped all thousand pieces onto the table. We turned them over and then began to put together the edges. Neither of us said much, commenting occasionally when we found success.

After we had the edges all together, I started to work on the section of the blue sea. After twenty minutes, I’d only connected four pieces. He was doing much better with his corner. Almost all of the snack shop was in place. Of course, he was as good as he’d said he was. What couldn’t this man do?

I surreptitiously studied him as his head was bent over his work. Occasionally, he bit his bottom lip, which I knew meant he was focused. I’d spent a lot of my childhood and teenageyears sitting beside him in class. I knew all his “tells.” Maybe I should suggest poker? But what would we play for? When we were in high school, there had been a notorious party in which a heated game of strip poker had been played. From all accounts, Rafferty was the only one still dressed by the end of the night. I, of course, hadn’t been invited. I’d heard all the popular kids gossiping about it on the Monday morning afterward. As I always did, I sat apart, merely observing rather than being part of the conversation.

“Do you remember that party when we were in high school? The infamous poker playing party?” I asked.

Rafferty glanced up, his brow furrowed for a moment before the memory clearly took hold. “Oh yeah. I remember. Sherry Winters was not a good player.” His eyes danced with mirth. “Matching bra and panties—scattered with pink hearts.” He coughed. “If I recall correctly.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you expect her to be? A good player, I mean?” Sherry had been our head cheerleader, and as unkind as it sounds, she fit the stereotype. Blonde and slim and not the brightest student ever. Her intellect had been of no consequence to the male population. She’d been drooled over by most of the guys in our class.

“Her poker skills were not necessarily on our minds,” Rafferty said, laughing.

“I wouldn’t know. I never got invited to stuff like that.”

He tugged on an ear, cocking his head to one side. “Why was that?”

I glared at him, annoyed. It was just like him to lead me to an answer that would make me feel bad. “You know why.”

“Was it because your dad was so strict? I remember people talking about how scary he was.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “That was it.”

“What do you mean?” He blinked and stared back at me with innocent blue eyes.

I knew better. Rafferty was too smart not to know that I was not invited because I’d been the fat girl. Thenerdyfat girl. “You know it wasn’t because of my dad. I was fat and awkward. No one liked me.”

He grimaced and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t remember you being heavy.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“No, really. Caspian and Soren were always talking about how pretty you were.”

“You’re a liar.” My tone was as frosty as the snow outside the cabin.

“I’m not.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Promise.”

My temper flared. Why must he be so difficult? Could he not just agree with me for once? Especially since the facts were the facts. “I was chubby. Trust me. My dad could tell you all about it.”

Rafferty pressed his fingers into one of his thick eyebrows. “You’re being serious.”

I stared at him, my certainty slipping. Could it be possible he and his brothers hadn’t seen me that way? Hadn’t Caspian said something about it to me recently? I’d dismissed it as him being kind, but Rafferty wouldn’t bother sugarcoating it for me. In fact, he’d probably do the opposite.

“I was heavy back then,” I said. “Thirty pounds heavier than I am now.”

“Okay, well, that’s not how I remember you. Granted, I was too busy trying to figure out how to beat you on every test we ever took. Which I did not do, by the way.”

“I remember.” I couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. How satisfying it had been when I won out by a point or two. That was all it ever was, though. We were neck and neck forevery academic achievement possible and close competitors in every subject except for PE. Sports had never been my thing. Obviously.

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” Rafferty said. “I mean about the parties and stuff. I doubt it was intentional.”

“What? Not being invited? Or the sneers behind my back?”

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