FINN: …
FINN: I’m changing the locks on my door.
I know he’s teasing, but I can’t hold back a wince. Nor do I hold back in my response.
ASHLEY: That doesn’t mean much since I don’t have a key.
I start to chew on my nail, waiting to see his response. Shit. Maybe I should unsend that? No, it’s too late, I’m sure he’s seen it. Oh God, that made me sound like a needy brat. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
FINN: Good point. We should change that.
My phone clatters down to the bathroom counter in front of me and my head falls forward, letting a curtain of my hair fall around me. For a long minute I just breathe. This infuriating, adorably sweet, completely confusing, sexy man. Doesn’t he know how that kind of message makes me feel? Can’t he tell how crazy he’s making me? You can’t imply that you’re going to give a woman a key when you haven’t even had the whole boyfriend/girlfriend conversation, you just can’t.
I realize at this point, there’s a high likelihood we’re both dancing around the subject, avoiding it like the proverbial hot potato. It is starting to feel as immature and stupid as it sounds. But after what I went through the last time I opened my heart to a man, I’m hesitant to be the one to put it all on the line.
I just can’t do it.
ASHLEY: See you after book club.
This is the second book club meeting I’ve gone to, and I’ve realized that it’s less about the books and more about the friendships between these women. Case in point, tonight Mila brought pastries, including one very phallic shaped, cream filled eclair. When the cream filling jokes started, we were all dying with laughter, trying to explain it to Paige who just couldn’t see what we could. I don’t think she’s a virgin, and based on the conversation points and discussion questions she creates for each book, she’s not exactly innocent. But sometimes the subtext seems to just elude her. It reminds me of when Sarah and I were in school and how naïve and innocent we were back then. Our private school’s version of sex ed raised so many questions, and we spent many nights giggling together, secretly reading her mom’s Harlequin romance books. Basically, the situation makes me miss Sarah fiercely, and I vow to call her tomorrow. I wish she was here and could meet everyone.
Eventually we talk about the book, a royalty romance that I found way over-the-top, but highly entertaining. And then, over our third glass of wine, the conversation veers away from the book. But I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that no one has mentioned Finn, or what’s going on with us. Which is why Serena’s next words have me choking on my wine until my eyes water.
“Has Finn asked you to move in with him yet?”
When I catch my breath and swipe away the tears, I shake my head. “Ah, no. He has not.”
Serena tilts her head to the side. “Hmm, is that trouble in paradise I’m sensing? You know, we’re practically experts at relationships in crisis by now. Not only did we read about them in book club last year, but look around you.” She gestures to the other women. “Three out of the five of us are happily in love, but only because we played a part in fixing whatever went wrong. Because men are idiots, so something always goes wrong. Basically, we’re relationship gurus. So spill.”
Summer starts to clap when Serena finishes and Mila and Abby quickly join in. I notice Paige doesn’t, but she seems to be the more serious one of the group, so I guess it doesn’t surprise me.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, girl,” Mila cheers, lifting her glass of wine and tipping it to Serena.
“Serena’s right,” Summer says, softly placing her hand on my thigh. “Several of us have been through tough times with our guys, but we’ve come out the other side of it happier than ever. Let us help?”
“There’s really nothing to help with,” I say nervously. “We just aren’t at that point, you know? It was fun when we were at the Airbnb together, but that wasn’t real. Real life, I mean. That was just some weird little bubble we were in for a while.”
“A bubble where you had a hot, live-in boyfriend, with dick any time you wanted it,” Serena states matter-of-factly.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I’m quick to respond, then take a gulp of my drink, feeling it burn with the acid my words are churning up.
“Really? Because it seemed like…” Summer starts to talk, then trails off. “I don’t know. I guess it just seemed like you guys were really close.”
“I mean, we are,” I stammer out. “But it’s just not…I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”
“You’ve been too busy having sex.”
My head whips up. There’s no judgment in Mila’s tone, but the words land like an accusation.
“I…we…”
“Hey, it’s all good. Finn’s hot, I don’t blame you. But he’s also got a heart of gold. And a lot of love to give. That’s all I’m saying.”
It’s not the first time Mila has said something like this to me. But it is the first time that the word love hits me. I give her a small smile and nod of understanding. Then, thankfully, the conversation shifts onto Abby’s daughter Layla, and the horseback riding lessons she’s starting out at Crescent Ranch, located close to Westport, the nearest big city.
“I’m telling you, it’s a good thing he isn’t the instructor, or Reid would never let me take her there for lessons,” Abby giggles. She’s telling us all about one of the ranch hands who is apparently drop dead gorgeous. “What is it about a man in Wranglers and cowboy boots? Ooh boy.”
The girls all laugh and I join in half-heartedly. But in reality, my head is not here with my friends. My head and my heart are somewhere else with a very specific winemaker in mind.
