Page 21 of Growing Into Love

“Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because you’re a Wright, Cass,” Autumn explains patiently. “Trying to get a Wright to do anything they aren’t ready for is like trying to keep Mr. Pickles from running off with the Highland herd.”

“Impossible,” Winter interjects, supplying the punchline. All that’s missing is a rim shot. “Besides, you didn’t say his name or anything in the text,” she adds. “He could be thinking it was meant for someone else.”

“I had that thought as well.”

“But that’s a good thing,” Autumn says.

“Exactly,” Winter agrees. “Because if he didn’t see you as a sexual being before, he sure as shit does now.”

“Maybe I can pretend I have a boyfriend,” I say hopefully. “That would make me look cool, right?”

“Cass, do not invent a fake boyfriend,” Autumn says sternly. “That would be lying. You don’t want to lie to Jaz.”

I cover my face with my hands. “It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Hey.” Autumn pulls one of my hands down. “You had a moment of real power at dinner tonight. I’ve never seen you express yourself or stand up to your family like that.”

“Huh?” Winter says.

“I’ll explain later,” Autumn says. She turns back to me. “You’re right. Everyone in this farmhouse sees you as the little girl you used to be. But you’re not. You’re an adult capable of making your own decisions. You’re Cassandra Fucking Wright and you’re going to crush that show jumping competition and start your own horse sanctuary at Oak Hill. You’re strong, independent, and fabulous and don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

“Hell yes,” Winter says.

“What do I do about Jaz, though?” I ask bleakly.

“You talk to him,” Autumn says.

When she says it like that, it sounds simple.

“If he doesn’t like you back then he’s a complete and total idiot,” Winter pipes up. “Sorry, but it had to be said.”

I motion for Autumn to hand me my mug of tea. “I can’t believe I’m about to get on a plane with him.”

“I know!” Autumn squeals. “It’s so exciting.”

“It is not,” I say, taking a sip of tea. “It’s terrifying.”

“Well sure, with that attitude,” Winter says.

“It might be a little awkward,” Autumn allows. “But this,” she holds up my phone, “needs to be acknowledged.”

“As soon as possible,” Winter agrees.

I stare down into my mug, whisps of steam caressing my face. “He’s at the farm all the time,” I say quietly. “He’s Dec’s best mate. It’s not like he’s some random bloke from the Middles. This is Jaz.”

“Listen,” Winter says. “I felt exactly the same about Virgil. I mean, when I wasn’t being an idiot and pretending I didn’t love him. Autumn was right to blow up at me for keeping our relationship secret. This family—the Wrights, the Van Der Hoeks, and now let’s include the Taylor-Wexhalls—we’re strong and tough as old tree roots. And you can’t let this hang over your head. Not with the competition coming up. Especially not if he’s going to be there with you. You can’t ignore this for the whole week. Get to New York, get settled in at Windy Acres, take Jaz out to dinner, and talk to him face-to-face. Have a glass of wine first. Or three.”

I crack a smile. “I had one glass the other night and look where that got me.”

“It got you finally saying how you feel,” Autumn says.

“Yeah, in like very explicit detail,” Winter adds.

I groan. “You know, Jaz and I text all the time. It’s never been a big deal. And now it’s this thing—like neither one of us has acknowledged what I sent so our thread has become a danger zone.”

“You should text him right now,” Autumn says, handing me my phone back. “Rip the Band-Aid off. Or, sorry, the plaster. He’ll need the flight information, right? You can ignore the sext for the time being.”

---