“No?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But why?” I asked stubbornly.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“I know,” I said, breathing out. “I know you don’t. I just don’t understand. I thought we had something yesterday. We keep ending up right back here.”
She shook her head. “This is a bad idea, Hollin.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“You don’t want to date me.”
“Yes, I do. I’m telling you quite clearly that I do.”
“We both know how this goes. Three dates, and then you get bored and move on.”
I blew out a harsh breath. “Yes, I’ve gone on three dates with people and broken up with them. But the three-date rule doesn’t actually exist. It’s something the guys use to make fun of me. It’s a joke, Piper.”
“It’s a joke because it’s reality,” she said, stepping backward. “I don’t want you to hurt me. I don’t want you to use me.”
“Use you? That doesn’t even make sense. I’m speaking plainly here. So, you’re mad at me for sleeping around, and now, you’re mad at me for wanting more? Which is it?”
“Both!” She crossed her arms. “It’s both. Because I don’t trust you.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Piper. Come on. At least give me a chance.”
She stepped away. “I’m sorry. But no.”
“You’re scared,” I said, pushing toward her as she walked away from me.
I should have let her go, but I couldn’t. She wasn’t even making sense. I’d hurt other people before. But that didn’t mean I was going to hurt her. I’d never pursued a girl like this before. It was different. She had to realize.
“How do I change your mind?”
“You can’t.”
I pulled her to a stop again. “Look, do you think this is normal for me? That I have to pursue a girl like this? I’m not doing it because I want to see you hurt. I’m doing it because I like you, Piper. I like you, and I think you like me, too. So, why are you running away scared?”
“Because I’ve seen you over the last five years,” she said, yanking away from me. Her eyes were wide and guileless. Not angry, but sad. “I want someone who is serious, who cares about me, who wants me for more than a few dates. And you haven’t proven that you’re that person ever. Not ever. You don’t know my favorite flower or what I like to eat for lunch or any of my favorite songs.”
“We date to learn that, Piper.”
“Do you know that information about anyone you’ve ever dated?”
I winced. There was one girl, but I wasn’t ready to even mention her. And the ones since her…well, they were mostly a blur.
She huffed. “Exactly. You don’t care about the girls that you date. And I won’t be just another one of them. You don’t know anything about me. So, how could you possibly like me?”
I ran a hand back through my hair in irritation. She was wrong. She was so wrong. I might not know stupid flowers or food or a song. But I did know her. I knew her way better than she thought I did.
“I know that you love the land like I do. You love your winery like I do. You love your people like I do. You’re fiery and caring and smart and determined and not afraid to stand up for what you believe in. So, maybe I don’t know the other stuff, but that’s enough for me.”
She gaped at me. Speechless from my outburst.
“I’m going to prove you wrong, Piper. I’m not the guy you think I am.”
21
Piper
I’d made a mistake.
Somewhere in all of my righteous anger, I’d screwed up. I’d made an assumption based off of past behavior and my own personal experience with Hollin that he was treating me like this to get back in my pants. He’d always been that guy. I hadn’t thought he’d be any different with me. And after that text from Quinn, I’d been mad all over again for what he’d done to my friends and how it had impacted my own life.
But now that he was walking away, furious for my assumption and promising to prove me wrong, I realized it was all in error.
He didn’t know me like I’d accused. But he’d hit the nail on the head. The fields, the winery, the people—that was my life. That was who I was and what I lived for. And he’d seen that without ever dating me.
Now, I didn’t know how to backpedal. There wasn’t a way to do it with my family leaving the service and Hollin returning to his family and the Wrights in disarray about Emery giving birth. This wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place.
And Easter was a celebration for my family. Abuelita had said, in Mexico, the people would flood the streets, eat all the delicious foods that they hadn’t had during Lent, and revel in a day of rest. The next week, they always drove down to the coast to eat fresh-caught seafood and relax now that the stone had been rolled away from the tomb.
We weren’t going to the coast, and there was no feast outside of the service. But we were all returning to Abuelita’s house for lunch. She’d made fish tacos, empanadas, shrimp patties with pipián, and heaps of ice cream in all of our favorite flavors. It was the way that it was always supposed to be.
I couldn’t let my mistake hold.
“Hollin!” I called before he disappeared.
He stopped and faced me.
“Do you…have plans?”
He jerked his chin to the side. “What? Right now?”
I jogged back up to him despite people watching us. “We’re going to Abuelita’s for lunch. It’s kind of a big deal in my family. Do you want to join us?”
He opened his mouth, still very confused, and then closed it. His head began to nod before he said, “Yes. Yes, I want to join you.”
“Okay. Um…good. I’ll text you the address.”
“Do I need to bring something?”
“Oh, no. Abuelita will be glad to have another mouth to feed.”
“What made you change your mind?”
I texted him the address. “You.” Our eyes met again. “You were right.”
He grinned, and it was the same wide, arrogant look I’d gotten from him for years. “Sorry, didn’t hear you. Can you say that again?”
I swatted at him. “Don’t push your luck, Abbey.”
He laughed. “All right. I’ll be there.”
I watched him walk away with the weight lifted off of my shoulders. I had no idea what I was doing exactly. This could all crash and burn. But at least, I was giving it a chance. I didn’t know what the future held. I didn’t know where we’d end up even a month from now, but I wanted to see it through. I’d been trying to convince myself that I wasn’t interested since long before that tour bus. I’d let Quinn scare me into pushing him away. Today, it would be different. And I’d take it one day at a time.
I parked my Jeep outside of the home Abuelita had owned since she’d arrived in Lubbock in the ’70s. It wasn’t much, but it had seen my mother grow up and all three of us kids as well. It held memories through pictures and food and dance. It was home as much as the winery.