I pause, then shrug. “I have no idea, honestly.”
“Hey, there’s no rush to figure it out. Take your time,” she insists, squeezing my shoulder. “The important thing is—did you enjoy it? The kissing… and other stuff?”
I bite my lip. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “I did. A lot.”
“Was it better than what you’ve done with women?”
Shame curls hot and tight in my gut. I don’t want to hurt her. If I tell her the truth—that making Troy orgasm was better than anything I ever did with her—doesn’t that make me a total douchebag?
“Ash,” she says gently, squeezing my arm. “You won’t offend me. I promise.”
I swallow hard. “Okay,” I sigh. “Yeah, it was better.”
She offers a small, reassuring smile. “Good for you.” Then her eyes spark with mischief. “So… have you done any more experimenting?”
I cock an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Like, you know…” She gestures vaguely, making a phallic motion with her hands. “Toys?”
Heat floods my face. “Absolutely not.”
She shrugs. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with toys. I own, like, five vibrators.”
My nose wrinkles. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now…”
“Hey.” She nudges my shoulder. “I think it’s pretty clear you’re attracted to men. Whether you’re gay, bi, something else… you can sort that out later. But sex with men is obviously different from sex with women. You need to figure out what you like. What makes you tick.”
Jesus Christ. Phoebe is absolutely shameless. I usually love her raw honesty and confidence, but right now, it feels like torture.
I scrub a hand through my hair. “EvenifI wanted to, like… buy a toy, or whatever,” I grumble, my voice low. “Where would I do that? Basically everyone around here knows who I am and would recognize me. I can’t be caught buying a…thing.”
Phoebe snorts. “It’s the twenty-first century, dude. Buy one online.”
I pause, biting my lip. I honestly hadn’t thought of that before.
Phoebe wrinkles her nose suddenly, pinching the collar of her shirt. “Okay. Sorry to cut this riveting conversation short,” she declares. “But I’m officially disgusting and desperately need a shower.”
I let out a shaky laugh, grateful for the escape hatch. “Probably for the best.”
She pushes off the tractor, dusting herself off. As she passes me, I hesitate, then add, “Hey. Thanks. For helping me with the sprayer. And… everything else.”
She pauses, her expression softening. “Anytime, Ash.” She leans in and presses a swift kiss to my cheek. “Love you.”
My chest tightens. “Love you too.”
We walk out of the barn together, boots crunching over gravel. The afternoon light is low and golden, stretching long shadows across the orchard. Phoebe hops up into the driver’s seat of her Jeep and flashes a grin through the open window.
“Keep me updated on yourpurchases!” she calls, emphasizing the last word with a wink.
I flip her the middle finger.
She laughs, starts the engine, and a moment later she’s rolling down the winding driveway, dust swirling in her wake. The sound of the truck fades completely, until it’s just me and the cherry trees again, standing together in the stillness.
Chapter Twenty
Troy
Thenightskyneverlooked like this back in Chicago. There, the stars were choked out by city lights, the streets always buzzing, restless and loud. But here in Claremont Shores, the sky is open—stars sharp and bright, scattered across a cloudless black void.
