Page 58 of Bountiful
Kissing Zara had been a dumbass thing to do. Obviously. My lizard brain hadbestedme.
But—Jesus Christ. The attraction had been mutual. I wasn’t crazy. And I didn’t know why she’d been so fuckingoffended.
Oh right—because I’d gone and made a big deal out of it. I’d thrown her attraction back in her face, as if all the sex we’d had was something to beashamedof.
It wasn’t. Or itshouldn’tbe.
Shit. I’d never been moreconfused.
When the water finally ran cold, I toweled off and got dressed. Though our encounter still played on repeat in my head. The impulse to kiss her had been so strong. Then she’d gotten mad, even before I’d shot my mouth off. But feeling our old attraction rear up between us hadn’t been a hardship for me. Honestly, it helped me to remember why we’d ended up making a baby in the firstplace.
Did she actually want me to pretend we were strangers who’d never felt a thing? I didn’t think I was a good enoughactor.
I didn’t understand Zara at all. And maybe I never had. The Beringers were missing the gene for understanding how relationshipsworked.
Hopefully I hadn’t passed that trait on to my child along with myredhair.
When I went downstairs, Castro was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating grapes and scrolling through his phone messages. “Hey, Beri. Your sistercalled.”
Shit. “Did she say what shewanted?”
“Negative.” Castro looked up. “Somethingwrong?”
“Other than everything?” I stole one of his grapes and popped it in mymouth.
He frowned. “That yoga class must have sucked, because usually it makes you all Zenandshit.”
“Zara was there.” I opened the refrigerator and studied its contents. Leo had gone home to Brooklyn, so Castro and I would be the only ones here for a few days. We were almost out of food. Time to do someshopping.
“Ah. That’s why you’re agrumpybear?”
“Ikissedher.”
“Duringyoga?”
“No,” I grunted. “After.”
“Hmm. It didn’t gooverwell?”
“We had words. I might have beenadick.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.” I chose a container ofyogurt.
“Huh. Are you still invited to lunch onSunday?”
“Good question. She never sent me the directions, so maybe I was never invited in the first place.” Now there was a clue I should haveheeded.
“Do I need to get you drunk already? Or can we still hike to that waterfallfirst?”
Igrunted. “Sure.”
“Call Bess and thenwe’llgo.”
Right.
I waited until Castro went into his room—he’d claimed the queen-sized bed that O’Doul had just vacated—before I dialed Bess from the landline. My sister had left Vermont, too—visiting clients on the West Coast somewhere, and it was just as well. She’d throttle me if she knew I’d caused dramaforZara.
