She leans back against the tractor, readjusting a ponytail that barely contains her thick curls. “So,” she says lightly, “you gonna tell me why you didn’t ask your dad to help with this instead?”
I hesitate, my gaze dropping to the concrete floor. “We got into an argument a few weeks ago. At dinner.”
She lifts a brow, waiting.
With a sigh, I drag a hand down my face. “He doesn’t approve of my new business deal with Troy Fischer.” I clear my throat. “We’re making a cherry cider together, and you know how my dad is. He hates change. Hates taking risks.”
Phoebe frowns sympathetically. “Did you two make amends?”
I scoff and shake my head. “No. Dad doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t admit he’s wrong. He just acts like nothing happened and calls you dramatic if you try to talk about it.”
She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ash. I’m sure, in some weird, twisted way, his anger is just concern in disguise.” She studies me for a beat. “He’s also probably afraid of tattooed men from the city with mysterious pasts.”
A humorless laugh slips out. “Yeah. Troy’s reputation definitely doesn’t help.”
Her lips curl into a knowing smirk. “I think he’s hot. Don’t you?”
Panic spikes through my chest, crawling up my throat. Even though Phoebe knows I’m questioning my sexuality, it still knocks the wind out of me every time I’m confronted so directly. I force myself to breathe.
“I mean,” I say carefully, exhaling, “yeah. He’s… cute. I guess.”
She narrows her eyes, studying me like a puzzle she’s already halfway solved. I can practically hear the gears turning. “Did something happen between you two? I totally got avibefrom him at the bonfire.”
I scoff too fast, my face already on fire. “What? No.”
She gasps theatrically and smacks my arm. “Oh my god,” she says, grinning. “You two aresomore than business partners. Tell me everything.”
I groan. “Phoebs—”
“Shut up. Tell me.”
I tilt my head, hesitating. The words pile up in my throat, heavy and unruly. My instinct is to deflect and shut this down the way I always do. That’s how I’ve survived so far—by locking things up tight and pretending they don’t exist.
But standing here with her, it suddenly feels exhausting. I know I can trust her. She already knows my deepest, darkest secret. What’s one more?
I exhale slowly, my shoulders dropping an inch. “Okay,” I say, quieter now. “But you can’t tell anyone.”
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes, studies me for a beat, and lifts her chin. “Now, spill.”
I sink back against the wall, the metal cool against my overheated skin. “Troy and I… we’ve kissed. A few times.” I wince, then force myself to keep going. “And we… gave each other blowjobs.”
Phoebe’s mouth falls open. “Oh my god. Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” I say, my face heating up. “You can’t tell a soul. My family can’t find out. It would… it would fucking kill them.”
Her grin softens into something more careful. “You really think they’d care that much?”
I scoff. “Of course they would.”
She tilts her head. “Even Olivia?”
I hesitate, blinking a few times. “I don’t know,” I admit. “She’d probably be okay with it. She’s got gay friends from college and all that. But I can’t ask her to keep something like this from the rest of our family. That wouldn’t be fair.” I meet Phoebe’s eyes, my voice dropping. “So please. Don’t tell anyone.”
Her shoulders slump. “I wouldn’t out you—or Troy,” she says quietly. “You know me.”
I let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaking out of my chest. “Okay, thanks,” I murmur. “And to be clear, he’s bisexual. He’s just not out to anyone here.”
She gives a slow, timid nod. “Is that what you think you are?”
