The Last Virgin in Texas Page 18

  My gaze whips back to him. “Last time? What are you talking about?”

  He shuts his eyes and his head slowly turns from side to side. “When we first came out here…I never went back to Shiner like I said.”

  “You did. I dropped you off at the airport and picked you up.”

  “I didn’t. I flew to Baja, then crossed the border to Tijuana.” He walks over to pour himself a drink and tips back a long draw, then continues. “I was in the final auditions for that first TV movie I was up for. They talked to Aaron. They’d seen both our sheets, yours and mine, and wanted me to make some changes for the role. They wanted to see a leaner profile the casting director told me. A buddy from acting class told me I could head over to Tijuana and pick up something that would help.”

  It takes me a minute to figure out what he’s talking about, then I realize. Juice is plentiful in L.A., but back in those days, we didn’t have a lot of spare cash lying around, so crossing the border would’ve made it easier to buy steroids. I nod so he knows I’m following his story.

  “I got picked up heading back into the States before I ever even hit the border. That would’ve been it for me. I’d have ended up in a Mexican prison and I’d probably still be there.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Gretchen and me?”

  “I called Aaron. Lucky for me, Ryan Werling was down there, working on some deal. Aaron got in touch with him, and he made the whole thing disappear.”

  Jared slumps back into the couch, taking another sip of his drink. “That’s why, when he said he wanted me in Shiner, wanted me to bring Marissa, I dropped everything and came down there. I’m pretty much his bitch for life. He says jump, I ask how high.”

  Ryan told me before he wanted Jared in Shiner. He said if he balked to just say Mexico. Now it all makes sense.

  I rub my palms up and down my face then rest them on the back of my neck as I pace back and forth. My pulse is pounding in my temples and my stomach feels sour.

  “Okay, so you never went home back then? Why did you say you saw Gretchen? That she wanted to end things with me?”

  “Because you were throwing away the best thing that ever happened to us all for some piece of ass. You were so fucking caught up in getting her out here, and all she was going to do was fuck up everything we’d been working for.”

  “Everything we’d been working for? Jared, the only thing I was working for was making a life with her.” I throw my hands into the air so I won’t use them to punch him again. “You told me you were fine with her coming out here.”

  “What was else was I gonna say, Tucker? Of course, I said I was fine with it, and I thought once you were out here, you’d let it go, but you didn’t. I had to do something before she ruined everything.”

  “So you, in all your wisdom, decided you knew what was best for me, and fucked up my life so…what? So you wouldn’t be out here on your own?”

  My jaw clenches tight. My skin is hot with rage, and I’m afraid if I punch Jared again, I won’t stop until he’s unrecognizable.

  Instead, I pick up the empty rocks glass in front of him and hurl it at the window where it connects with the frame and shatters, millions of shards of crystal falling to the slate tile floor.

  “You’re a selfish fucking asshole, you know that, Tucker?” He stands like he’s going to do something. For his own good, he better rethink that, and quick.

  “Me?” I close the distance between us and shove my finger into his chest. “How dare you? You’re the asshole who lied to me for years.”

  The bastard chuckles as he paces back and forth in front of the sofa.

  “You privileged fucking prick. You’re such a selfish bastard you don’t even see it.”

  I throw my hands out, my palms gesturing toward the ceiling. “What, Jared? What the fuck am I supposed to see?”

  “That the only way I get anything, the only way anybody wants anything to do with me, is because of you, you dick.”

  My brows furrow and my eyes narrow as I try to process what he’s trying to say, but I can’t make sense of it.

  “When we first came out here, the agency didn’t want me, Tucker. They just wanted you. Uncle Blake convinced his buddy that they’d never get you without me, so they’d take us both. When I went to that first big audition, I heard the casting director and producer when they were talking about our tear sheets. They said they’d rather have you, but you were already up for Bro Anywhere, and they didn’t like that you were doing a reality TV show. They asked me to bulk up and get a fucking nose job, so I’d look more like you.”

  “Then why the fuck didn’t you tell them to pound sand?”

  “Because this was my chance, Tucker. Things were never easy for me like they were for you. Even…” He tips his head back and there’s a guttural sound from deep within his throat. “Fuck, even my dad liked you better. Remember senior year? That interception?”

  I nod.

  “I was right there, too, at the twenty. When we got home, Daddy wore my ass out about not making that catch myself. He said it was a good thing you were there because you’re a better football player than I’ll ever be.” He slumps back against the sofa and shakes his head and looks up at me. “You’re my best friend, Tucker. I love you like a brother, but I been in your shadow my whole fucking life.”

  I sit down on the edge of the sofa and turn toward Jared.

  “So instead of telling me what you had going on inside, what—you just fuck me over?”

  “What can I say?” He shrugs and half-chuckles. “I’m a selfish fucking asshole.”

  I don’t say anything. I just stand and walk toward the door.

  “Tucker…come on, man. You’re just gonna leave? Tucker!” I don’t look back. “Man, are we gonna be okay?”

  I don’t turn around.

  “Maybe. But not today.”

  Thirty-Two

  Strong hands slide up the back of my legs, their glide aided by the slick oil on my skin. Fingers dig deep and my taught muscles relax under their touch. Soft music plays as a fresh scent of rain on grass wafts around me. I feel the sheet slip down off my shoulders and the gentle touch that grazed the back of my thighs moves to my back. Fingers knead and knuckles graze across my back and shoulders, and I feel the tension slip away.

  It’s over sooner than I want it to be.

  A soft voice breaks the quiet of the gentle music that’s playing. “Our time together has come to an end. Please rise slowly. We’ve released a lot of toxins from your muscles and you may feel a little lightheaded. I’m going to leave a bottle of water on the table for you. Please come out into the hallway whenever you’re ready and we’ll move to the mudroom.”

  She presses her fingers lightly to my shoulder through the fabric of the sheet and I hear the door softly shut as she steps out into the hall.

  I sit up, and she’s right, I’m a little light-headed. I’ve never had a massage before, so I didn’t know what to expect. Considering that my legs feel like jelly and my muscles are relaxed, I can safely say I’m a fan.

  I drink a sip of water and shrug on the robe, tucking it over in the front and tie it at the waist.

  When I step outside the room, my masseuse leads me down the hall to a large tiled room with two tubs set flush into the floor. In the tub at the right side sits my mama, covered head-to-toe in gray-brown mud wearing a pair silvery silicone patches, one under each eye.

  “How was your massage, honey?” She sips on a glass of cucumber water.

  “So relaxing.” I sigh.

  The masseuse leaves and another clinician of some sort takes her place, pulling a curtain around the tub, telling me to disrobe and step in. A moment later, I’m sinking into the deep, silky mud and she’s applying the same silvery patches to my under-eye area that Mama’s wearing. I relax back against the cushion that she places behind my neck and let the warm mud continue the work of relaxing my body that the masseuse started.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come out
to visit us.” Mama sinks a little deeper into the vat of mud. “Isn’t this just Heaven?”

  “I ain’t gonna lie. It’s pretty sweet.” I wiggle my toes, letting the silky mud slide between them.

  “What’s next, after the mud?”

  “Steam shower, facial, haircut, and a mani-pedi. By the time we leave you’re gonna feel like a new woman.”

  I could sure use that, because the woman I’ve been the last few weeks is pretty miserable to be around.

  After a few more hours of pampering, my skin is glowing, and my hair is shiny and full of bounce. I feel more glamorous than I ever have before.

  Mama and I get dressed and walk out front where she whips out a silvery credit card to pay. While she does, I peruse the products on display on the shelves beside the desk. One shelf catches my eye. It’s full of colorful cosmetics, the same brand as my fancy lip gloss.

  “Hold up,” I hear Mama say to the clerk. “My daughter wants some of that makeup.”

  “No, Mama, it’s fine. I don’t need anything,” I reply, putting back the twenty-four-dollar tube of mascara in my hand.

  “Nonsense!” She beckons to the woman behind the counter. “Come help us pick her colors. We want one of everything.”

  “Mama! That’s crazy. I don’t need all that.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re gorgeous just like you are. It doesn’t hurt for a woman to feel a little glamorous, though, especially when she’s feelin’ down.” She looks back at the clerk. “Come on, honey. Load her up!”

  Mama and John have warned me about walking in the mountains with Mr. Chips. She wanted to buy him some insane looking contraption called a coyote vest, which is basically a dog jacket covered in spikes and spines to deter predators. I convinced her, instead, that as long as I keep him on a leash and carry mace, we’ll be just fine, thank you very much.

  For the past few days since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten in the habit of getting up every morning at the same time I would to open the diner back home, which is about four in the morning here. I put on a pair of yoga pants and sneakers, grab my mace, and Mr. Chips and I go for a walk on the trails around the property.

  Spending time alone with my thoughts like this is both a blessing and curse. On the one hand, I like the quiet and definitely like not having to endure the pitiful looks from Mama. Escaping those looks from Maisie and Dodger back home is a big part of why I came out here.

  The last few days have been cool and clear. This morning, though, there’s a mist hanging in the air. As we ascend up the trail, the air gets a little cooler. Mr. Chips does his business beside a rock at the edge of the trail and I’m thankful I don’t have to worry about cleaning it up like I do in my own tiny yard.

  We top a rise in the trail, and as we do, the sun peeks over the mountains. I look out and the soft colors melt into a line of dark blue that reminds me of nothing so much as the sapphire eyes of the man I’m trying desperately to forget.

  I sit on a rock that’s far enough back from the edge of the hill that I don’t have to worry about Mr. Chips getting away from me. As I sit and stare out at the sky, I stop fighting it. I let myself feel every bit of the hurt and disappointment I’ve been staving off for weeks. I let myself feel the loss of Tucker all those years ago when he first walked away. I feel the pain of loss for what I thought we could become this last time around—a dream crushed before it even began.

  This time, I don’t deny my heartache. I let it wash over me, and I sob until my breath hitches and my shoulders heave up and down.

  Mr. Chips paws at my leg, apparently concerned that I’m having some sort of breakdown. He may not be wrong.

  I scoop him up into my lap and clutch him to my chest as I sob. He looks up and licks my chin, then settles in against me.

  I think about how much he’s grown in the year I’ve had him. He’s not a spastic little puppy anymore. It makes me realize that maybe Mama was right. Time goes by so quick that there doesn’t seem to be much point in spending it unhappy. It sure seems like she’s made a happy life for herself out here when for years she never thought she’d have love in her life.

  I wish I could do the same.

  The drafting table and drawing supplies Mama set up for me make it easy for me to lose hours every day working on my little watercolors. Today’s quote is one that makes me feel empowered. The illustration is a boy, walking away, and the girl has turned heel, her nose in the air as she faces the opposite direction. The quote reads:

  If he’s stupid enough to walk away, be smart enough to let him.

  I finish coloring in all the details and lay it on the windowsill to dry next to yesterday’s painting:

  Well-behaved women seldom make history.

  “Oh, I like that one, honey.” Mama walks in and looks over my shoulder. “You know, one of my friends has a little art shop in town. I bet if you framed some of these, she’d love to sell them at her place.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do. We’ll pick up some frames tomorrow and go see her later in the week if you’d like.” She tucks my freshly cut locks behind my ear, and I nod. “John’s bringing a guest home for dinner tonight, so no leggings or t-shirts, okay?”

  I nod. “Someone from work?”

  “Yes. A doctor who’s consulting on patient care. He’s from back home, actually. Houston. He’s going to be here for the week, and John didn’t feel right making him eat alone in restaurants every night.” She smiles and squeezes my shoulder. “They’ll be here in about an hour. Go on and get ready.”

  On her way out the door, she pauses. “Wear some of that nice, new makeup we bought the other day.”

  Since Mama clearly wants to make a good impression on John’s colleague, I put on the floral dress I packed in case I needed something nice while I was out here and use the flatiron to tame my unruly hair. I manage to do a halfway decent job with the makeup Mama insisted on buying, and when I check my look in the mirror before I head downstairs, I’m happy with what I see.

  I snap a selfie in the mirror and send it to Maisie as proof of life. She’s been texting me a dozen times a day to check on me since I arrived.

  Mr. Chips snuggles down in one of the chairs by the window, happy as can be. This climate seems to agree with him. I pat his head and go in to meet our guest.

  I step into the living room expecting some middle-aged colleague of my stepdad’s with a paunch. Instead, I find Mama talking to a good-looking young guy, maybe about thirty, with sandy blonde hair. He’s laughing at some joke she’s made, and a single dimple is showing on his cheek. When they see me walk in, he stands, and walks over to meet me.

  “Gretchen, this is Doctor Gale,” Mama says.

  “Colin, please. Doctor Gale is my father.” He grins as he sticks out his hand for me to shake. When I reach out, his hand swallows mine, and I realize just how tall he is as I scan his broad shoulders. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gretchen.”

  And now I see what Mama was up to when she told me to dress decent for dinner. This whole damn thing is a setup.

  John appears a moment later with a rocks glass full of clear liquor and hands it to Colin. I sit on the sofa and Mama and John sit in the two armchairs opposite me, leaving only the sofa for Colin to join me.

  I raise a brow at Mama as my gaze narrows.

  Subtle, Mama. Real subtle.

  She gives a half-shrug as she casts a sideways glance and sips her drink.

  We chat for a while about how long Colin has lived in Houston, and Mama goes out of her way to talk about how close that is to Shiner, where we’re from. Where my diner is. And my house, where I live. I can’t hold back the eye roll.

  We go in for dinner and again, Mama stacks the deck with our seating. Boy-girl-boy-girl around the dinner table so Colin is to my side. Throughout the meal, I catch him stealing glances in my direction, and even though I’m hardly in the mood to be starting something, I have to admit that he’s good looking. I don’t necessarily hate that he very obvious
ly appreciates the effort I put into my appearance tonight.

  Mama spends practically the whole dinner bragging about everything I’ve done since I was three.

  Gretchen made straight As in school. Gretchen runs that diner all on her own. Gretchen is a talented artist.

  I know she’s doing it for Colin’s benefit. It tells me something I never knew before, though. It tells me that she really is proud of me.

  “Why don’t you kids go have a cocktail on the back deck while we clean up these dishes, hm?” Mama elbows John.

  “She’ll never take no for an answer, so we might as well head out there.” Colin smiles wide at my comment.

  “Hmm, have a drink outside on a beautiful night with a beautiful woman. Twist my arm, why don’t ya.”

  Okay, that was cute. I’ll give him that one.

  “Well, come on, then.” I wave my hand toward the French doors and he follows me, acting so much like a puppy that Mr. Chips would probably be jealous.

  I lean back on one of the lounge chairs with my feet propped up in front of me, and Colin takes the chair beside me, doing the same.

  “John tells me your mom is trying to get you to move out here. Have you decided you’re tired of Texas?” Colin sets down his drink and turns toward me as he asks the question, giving me his full attention.

  “I’ve had a rough few weeks. I just needed a change of scenery is all.” I shrug.

  “Bad breakup. I figured as much.”

  I draw back a little at the comment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. I just thought, someone as gorgeous as you wouldn’t stay single long unless she especially wanted to, so you must’ve just broken up with someone.” He grins and that dangerous dimple reappears.

  We chat a while longer and I try to focus on the small talk he’s trying so hard to make, but I keep thinking about what he said about going back to Texas. It’s awfully pretty up here, and I love the mountains. We don’t have anything like them back home. It’s nice being with Mama and John, too. If I’m not careful, they might tempt me to stay a while longer.