Heartland Page 19

  “Dyllie!” Keith shouts. “Look at this fucking beautiful caramel! Who knew I was a candy genius!” He points to a tray of cooling caramel, and I hurry over to see how he’s done.

  There’s one crystallized bit near the corner, but otherwise it looks fantastic. “Dude, yes! Thank you. Where are we?” I pull the hairnet out of my pocket.

  “We got two more on the burners, and the earliest batch is in the fridge.” He yawns. “Can we call it quits after that? You’re down to two quarts of milk, anyway.”

  “Sure,” I say, wondering if that first batch is cool enough to cut yet. I might be here all night, but after the last batches come off the stove, I can let everyone else go home. “You want to wash up the measuring stuff and then bounce?” I offer. “You’ve been a big help to me.”

  “I’ll stay,” he says with a shrug. “It’s too late to find a party, anyway.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You’ll play another gig with me sometime, right?” he asks. “I’m kinda counting on it.”

  “I totally will,” I promise. Because Keith is one of the cool people, too.

  By three a.m. it’s just me and Daphne, sitting at a table and tucking caramels into candy cups, and candy cups into boxes.

  “How are you going to get all of these home?” she asks.

  “Plastic bins from K-Mart,” I tell her. “They’re in the back of my truck.”

  “Impressive,” she says, although it sounds grudging. Daphne doesn’t like to show me any praise. She’s the tiger, and I’m the slacker, and it’s been this way since the day we were born.

  I came out first, but that was literally the last time I outperformed Daphne at anything.

  “So why are you here this weekend?” I ask now, because I promised Griffin I would. “Do you have a secret boyfriend?”

  Daphne snorts. “No. I’m just here to visit with someone in my field.”

  That’s how she speaks—like a career academic. I haven’t even chosen a major yet. “Like, a professor?”

  “A PhD candidate in public health,” she says. “She used to be at Harkness, but she left last year.”

  “Oh.” I tuck the last caramel into a box and then close the lid and reach for the next box. “What else is going on with you, then?”

  “Nothing.” She grabs another box and sighs. “Did Griffin tell you to ask?”

  I laugh out loud. “Maybe.”

  “You’d think he’d have enough to worry about without digging around in my business.”

  “You’d think,” I agree. “But he thinks something is up with you. Why is that?”

  My sister shrugs. “It’s nothing either of you can solve. But thank you for asking.”

  “Okay,” I say quietly. “But if you change your mind, I wouldn’t tattle to Griffin.”

  “Noted,” she says. “So what’s up with you and Chastity?”

  “Oh, so you don’t share the shitty things you do, but I’m supposed to?”

  “Who says I did anything shitty?” She eyes me over the box she’s folding. “Did you?”

  “Well, sure. Just the usual, though—having fun without stopping to think of the consequences.”

  “And what are the consequences?” she asks. “You’re not dumb enough to get her pregnant, right?”

  “No!” I yelp. “Jesus. Bite your tongue.”

  “Sorry,” she says, plunking caramels into the box. “So what’s the problem?”

  “It’s…” I hesitate, because I’m not willing to violate Chastity’s privacy. “She doesn’t deserve a random hookup. And that’s the only kind I ever have. So now it’s just really awkward.”

  “She wants a boyfriend?” my sister asks, studying me.

  “Possibly,” I hedge. “We didn’t, uh, actually have that detailed of a conversation.”

  “So you’re just assuming you know what she wants.”

  “Well…” This is why I try never to argue with my sister.

  “Did she ask you for the hookup?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you went with it. You did exactly what she asked?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So what’s the problem?” Daphne is like a verbal bulldozer. “Maybe it’s you who’s making this awkward.”

  “She won’t talk to me, Daph.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No. I don’t know. She didn’t, uh, hate the experience. But Kaitlyn made everything weird by freaking out and screaming at both of us. So Chastity and I never got the chance to figure out how to look each other in the eye again.”

  “Kaitlyn is a very interesting person,” Daphne says.

  “I used to think so, too.”

  “You lose interest in everything, don’t you?” She finishes another box. “It’s a good thing the caramels are only a seasonal business.”

  “Thank God we’re almost done here. I’m allowed to get sick of things at four in the morning, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  We lapse into silence for a minute. But when your twin sister says something mildly offensive, you can’t always let it go. “I didn’t get sick of Kaitlyn. She decided to hook up with another guy to make me jealous. And I hate games and drama, so I parachuted out of there. Learned a lesson.”

  “What lesson? Not to date rich girls with daddy issues?”

  “Not to date,” I correct her.

  “But you have feelings for Chastity,” my sister says. It’s a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah. Too many. That’s the whole problem—I like her too much to get her naked.”

  My sister snorts. “And people say I’m the crazy one.”

  “Do they say that?” I ask. “I thought you were the smart, accomplished one.”

  “I wear many hats.”

  We both laugh. This is probably the most fun I’ve had with my sister in a long time. Until she asks me one more question.

  “What does Chastity think about your stance on dating?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  Daphne gives me a sideways glance. “Have you considered breaking your rule for Chastity?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “Because that never ends well. If we break up, I lose a good friend. Not to mention all the people who will hate that idea. Leah and Isaac. Griffin. Mom.”

  “So you won’t date her because you don’t want to disappoint her?”

  “Yes,” I say. “That’s exactly why.”

  She grabs another box and shakes her head. “I don’t know Dylan. It sounds like you already have.”

  Well, fuck. That’s a depressing idea. “You always know what to say to a guy.”

  “It’s my superpower,” she agrees.

  Twenty-Seven

  Dylan

  I give Chastity the space she needs. Until Wednesday comes and goes with no call from her, I’m a very patient man.

  If by “patient” you mean irritable, grumpy and generally hard to be around.

  “It’s algebra night,” I complain to Rickie and Keith as we eat dinner together in the living room. “She didn’t call.”

  “I noticed that,” Rickie says, shoving another bite of lentil curry into his mouth.

  “You did? Why?”

  Rickie shakes his head. “Because you’ve spent the week moping around the house, checking your phone every few minutes.”

  “It’s making me crazy.” And I mean that in so many ways. I’m worried about Chastity. I’m worried about our friendship.

  But at the same time, I can’t help remembering the heat of her kiss. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in her bed, tasting her skin, hearing her moan.

  Not only am I horny as fuck, but I feel like an asshole. That night turned into an experience she regrets, but my libido can’t leave it alone.

  I just need to see her and talk to her and calm the fuck down, whether that means going back to the way things used to be, or explaining just how naked I want us to get so we can give it another try.

  She’d never want t
hat, though.

  Would she?

  “That’s it.” I stand up, grabbing my empty plate and stepping over Rickie’s feet. “I have to get out of here.”

  “There’s people coming over,” Rickie says. “I’m making a rum punch. Chill out and have some drinks. You’ll feel better.”

  “I won’t,” I admit. “I got some things I need to take care of.”

  An hour later I’m cruising around campus on foot, a small gift bag in my hand, optimism in my heart.

  But I can’t find Chastity. I risked running into Kaitlyn by stopping at the dorm, asking the person at the desk to buzz upstairs. No answer. Then I checked the coffee shop, where Rickie and I ran into her that one time with Ellie.

  No dice.

  So now it’s almost ten, and I’m running out of places to look. Desperate now, I try the library that stays open until midnight. It’s starting to empty out for the night, so it’s easy enough to scan the tables.

  By the time I’ve made it up to the second floor, I’ve almost given up. But then I spot her. She’s leaning over her notebook, pencil in hand, and Ellie is sitting opposite her, chin propped in her hand, explaining something.

  They’re doing algebra again. Without me.

  “Whoa there, ladies,” I say, dropping the bag onto the table. “Are you doing math right now?”

  Both of them look up at me with big, guilty eyes. “Hi, Hot Farm Boy. Chastity has a little quiz tomorrow. That’s all.”

  “A quiz?” I plunk down in the chair beside Chastity and look at her for the first time in days. It takes me a minute, because I can’t help but drink her in. She’s wearing a soft-looking blue sweater that matches her eyes, and a long skirt I’ve never seen before.

  “I thought I was the algebra tutor,” I say, and it comes out sounding bossy as fuck. “Are you firing me?”

  Chastity’s eyes widen. “You think I can’t pass a quiz without your help?”

  “Didn’t say that.” We’re having a stare-down, apparently. “But you know I like to help.”

  Across the table, Ellie is shoving things into her bag. “Look how late it’s gotten! I’d better go!” she chirps. “Don’t skip problems thirty-one and thirty-two, Chastity. Those look like something you might see on the quiz. Night, guys!”

  Two seconds later, she disappears.

  “You scared off Ellie,” Chastity whispers.

  “I didn’t scare her off,” I correct. “I’m not intimidating. I am, however, your algebra tutor. Ellie knows this.”

  “It’s not a permanent position,” Chastity snaps. “You can’t just chase away my friend.”

  We’re still locked in eye-to-eye combat, which is really no hardship for me. I could look at Chastity all day. “Chasing away your friend was not my intention,” I say softly. “And if I did, I apologize. But I came here tonight because I didn’t know what else to do. Not talking to you isn’t working for me. So I bought you a prepaid phone.” I give the gift bag a poke. “But I guess that won’t even be helpful if you won’t answer it.”

  “You got me a phone?” Chastity squeaks.

  “Yes! Which you clearly need.” I reach inside the bag and pull it out. Then I hand it to her. “Consider it your early Christmas gift. This saves me the trouble of trying to figure out what to get for a really good friend who’s currently not speaking to me.”

  Chastity gives me a guilty look. Then she runs a thumb over the shiny surface of the phone, the way most people would gaze upon a treasure. “You shouldn’t have,” she says softly. “Thank you.”

  “It’s returnable, in case you really hated this idea. But it didn’t cost as much as I thought, and there’s no monthly bill, and…” I realize I’m arguing all the wrong points. The phone doesn’t matter. “Look, I can tell that I’ve made you uncomfortable. But it didn’t used to be like that. We weren’t uncomfortable.”

  Chastity looks up at me. “I know.”

  “So that’s why I came looking for you. Is it really asking too much for me to sit here and help you with a few algebra problems? Maybe we could remember what this is supposed to be like. And if we do okay at that, we can talk about our other problem.”

  “Our other problem?” she asks.

  I’d been referring to the fact that I want her so badly I ache. But first things first. “Never mind that. Can we do some algebra?”

  “Okay,” she says stiffly.

  “Thank you. Now finish number thirty, so we can get to the tricky ones.”

  She gives me a sharp look and picks up her pencil. “Yes sir. Is there anything else you require?”

  “Uh…” I swallow suddenly. I don’t think Chastity meant for that to sound sexual. But it absolutely did. “I think you should just do the problem. Time’s a wasting.”

  She gives me one more disgruntled look, and my libido lets out a little whimper. The truth is that I like this version of Chastity a whole lot. The feisty one.

  The one who says “use me” when I’m inside her.

  Okay! Algebra. Focus. I watch her simplify the equation. Or I try to. But it’s just dawning on me that it isn’t going to go away. That’s another inconvenient truth.

  “You look really great in that color,” I blurt as she’s reducing the fraction.

  “Dylan,” she grumbles without looking up. “Don’t do that.”

  “Sorry.”

  We lapse into silence again for a while. But things are loud inside my head. And when she’s finally writing the answer to number thirty, I let out a heavy sigh.

  “What? Did I get it wrong?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, it’s perfect. Except I promised myself that I was only going to tell you the truth from now on. So here goes. The dumbest thing I’ve ever done was tell Kaitlyn that I wasn’t attracted to you. I said it to shut her up. But also because I felt bad for looking at you that way. Because I thought you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

  Chastity’s pencil drops onto the table.

  “Yeah, I know. We already dispelled that theory. I just needed you to hear it from me. I find you attractive. So attractive that I spent the whole week thinking about it. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.”

  She turns to me. “Well, if we’re apologizing for things, I’m sorry I lied about Friday nights in the kitchen.”

  “You already apologized for that.”

  “I know. But it feels like it started the whole disaster. If I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be having this little chat right now.”

  “Fair enough. But I’m over it now. I just want us to tell the truth to each other. Can we do that?”

  She turns her head and gives me a wary glance. “I’ll try. Some of my truths you don’t want to hear, though.”

  “Let’s just see how it goes. Are you going to tackle question thirty-one now?”

  “I guess.” She lets out a sigh. “Here’s a true statement—I hate algebra.”

  “Yup. But you’re more than halfway there. By Christmas you’ll be free.”

  She returns to her work, picking up her pencil and attacking the problem. “God, I hope the quiz isn’t made up of really long, hard ones.”

  There’s a really dirty joke just begging to be made, here. But I let it pass. I’m very helpful until she’s finished with problem thirty-one.

  “How’d I do?” she asks.

  “Groovy. Once you divided by Y, you didn’t have any more problems.”

  She beams down at her paper.

  “Also? You look really touchable in that sweater. Just saying.”

  “Dylan. That’s off topic.” She gives me a sideways glance.

  “I know. You can do the last problem now. But we’re telling each other the truth, so…” I shrug. “It’s a great sweater. The skirt is nice, too. Makes me wonder if you’re wearing tights or not. So that’s fun.”

  “Stop distracting me.”

  “If you want.”

  She goes back to work, trying a couple of approaches to the last problem. But when she tucks h
er hair behind her ear, it exposes a span of skin at her neck. And I can’t help but think of the sweet, sexy noise she made when I kissed her there.

  Knowledge is a dangerous thing. I can’t unhear that sound. I can’t unknow how much chemistry we have. And I don’t even want to try. “Can I tell you my other problem now?”

  “I guess,” she says, erasing something on the page.

  Instead of speaking, I lean in and kiss her neck. It’s just a brush of my lips across her skin. But I inhale the lemon scent of her shampoo, and my heart starts to pound like I’m a drug addict who’s suddenly within reach of his next hit.

  “Dyl,” she whispers. “Maybe you should sit on the other side of the table.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper back. “But suggesting that isn’t the same as telling me to do it. Since we’re on a new truth kick, do you really want me to go sit there?”

  Chastity considers me with her big blue eyes. She closes them and slowly shakes her head.

  “Ah. I didn’t think so.” I lean in and kiss her neck again.

  “What are you doing?” she asks in a husky voice.

  “I’m kissing your neck. In case it’s not enough to say that I’m honestly very attracted to you, I’m totally willing to prove it. Or I can move to the other side of the table and stick to algebra. It’s really your call.”

  Chastity inhales a shaky breath. “Talking about this is really hard for me.”

  “Harder than problem thirty-two?” I ask for clarification.

  “Actually, yes.” Her cheeks are suddenly bright pink. “I know it’s inconvenient. And you’re being really wonderful right now. And the whole week of silence is totally my fault. But I have reasons—a lifetime’s worth of being told what not to ever say.”

  “Okay,” I say quickly. But the truth is that I never considered that talking about sex might be extra difficult for her. Talking about sex is probably my fifth favorite hobby. It’s definitely in the top ten.

  “I already spent the week wishing I could take back all the things I said to you before.”

  Ouch. “You regret being with me?”