Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(27)

“Heading for Chicago. I got a job with a marketing firm there, and I’m going to take some graduate classes too.”

“Cool. I love Chicago.”

“Then you’ll have to come visit me,” I told him, and I was surprised to find myself hoping he really would.

He smiled. “Maybe I will.”

We talked for a while. It was nice to hang out again, just the two of us. He told me about the death of his grandfather, and how hard that had been on him because they’d been so close. “He didn’t care that I hadn’t gone to Harvard. He always told me to do my own thing.”

I talked about feeling frustrated with my parents because they refused to believe that Cloverleigh’s brand needed a serious overhaul, with a new website, more advertising, and a presence on social media. “They don’t take me seriously at all,” I complained. “They just want to keep doing things the way they’ve always done them, and it’s a huge mistake.”

“Why won’t they listen to you? You got a degree in marketing, right?”

“Right.” I tossed a hand in the air. “Who knows? Maybe they’re upset I don’t want to move back home right away and work for them. So far, none of their kids has really shown an interest in taking over—Sylvia got married and moved away, April is working in New York, Meg’s at law school in D.C.”

“Do you have any interest in working for Cloverleigh?” he asked.

“I do,” I said hesitantly, “but I’d like to get out and live a little first, you know? I’ve spent my entire life on that farm, and I love it, but I want to experience other things.”

“I get that. God knows I have no interest in the soap business.”

I laughed. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said, swirling the last little bit of scotch left in his glass before tossing it back. “Mostly I just want to have fun. You want another drink?”

“Sure. Do you think we need to make an appearance at the party? It’s almost six.”

“Fuck the party. I’ll be right back.” He took my glass and headed out of the room, returning with two more generous pours a few minutes later.

I have no idea how much time passed, but by the time we finished our second drink, the sun had gone down, we’d switched on a lamp, and we were sitting on the floor between the two beds, laughing about the rubber snake incident.

“Someday I’m going to get you back for that,” I told him, setting my empty glass on the nightstand. “You better lock your door tonight.”

“I’d never lock you out.”

Our eyes met, and my breath caught in my chest.

“So are we ever going to talk about it?” he asked.

“Talk about what?”

“That night in my room.”

My face immediately felt flushed. “Why do we need to talk about it?”

“Because I have questions.”

“What do you want to know?”

“For one thing, why me? For real.”

“I told you. I needed someone I could trust.” I hesitated, figuring I was just tipsy enough to admit the truth. “Also, I was attracted to you.”

“Aha!” He looked smug. “I fucking knew it.”

“Congratulations.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Do you still regret it, like you said?”

I sighed. “I did, after you were so mean at the Christmas party. But now … I guess not. I mean, I don’t like that it messed up our friendship for three years, but I suppose the event happened exactly like I wanted it to. And in the end, I’m glad it was you.”

He smiled, and it sent something warm and tingly up my spine. “Good. So did you have sex with that guy Dean?”

I narrowed my eyes. Just when I felt affectionate toward him, he had to ruin it. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m curious.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“Was he better than me?”

Rolling my eyes, I started to laugh. “Jesus Christ, Oliver. Are you going to ask me whose dick was bigger?”

“No.” And then a second later he puffed up his chest. “Wait, was mine bigger? It was, wasn’t it?”

That made me laugh even harder. He was so predictable. “Sorry,” I wheezed. “I don’t remember.” It was a lie—Oliver’s had been bigger. Maybe it was simply that he was my first, but in my memory, he was bigger than all three of the guys I’d been with since him. The best kisser too. By far.

“Did he make you come?” Oliver demanded, setting his empty glass on the nightstand. He was clearly worked up about this.

“Uh, no, he didn’t.” I paused. “But then, neither did you.”

“I didn’t?” He seemed genuinely surprised, which set me off again.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my stomach and giggled uncontrollably. “No. Sorry. Although, in your defense, I’m not sure you had time. It was over too quickly.”

His jaw dropped, then he clenched it. “Give me another chance,” he demanded. “Right now.”

“What?” I stared at him, trying to catch my breath. “Are you crazy?”