As the Tallgrass Grows by Rachel Ember

Author:Rachel Ember [Ember, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781954950085
Publisher: Chestnut Press, LLC

Chapter Fifteen

Owen

When they got back from LA, they picked up where they’d left off, straight into their hayloft-clearing task. But when their eyes met or their fingers brushed, the feelings between them were different than before.

With the tack sorted and cleaned, there was a more manageable but still intimidating amount of stuff to sift through. Alongside random props and set pieces Bo had collected over the years, there was personal stuff too—photographs, furniture, and even old clothes.

“Maybe the next step is to get rid of the actual junk,” Johnny suggested, holding up a crate filled with containers of black hoof polish in demonstration. “I think these were put up here in the midseventies, and they’re basically solid tar.” He looked around and pointed at a box of water-stained Louis L’Amour novels with bleeding ink and curling pages. “And the ruined books. That kind of stuff.”

“Should we ask before we throw stuff away?”

Johnny shrugged. “Dylan said we had absolute authority, right?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Have you known your uncles to be sentimental about things?”

“Not when it’s just stuff, no.” Owen pulled open the lid of a box filled with small ceramic horses. A little strange, but not trash. He put the lid back on and set it aside. He looked up just in time to see Johnny bend over fully, his ass pointed directly at Owen and straining the worn denim seat of his jeans. Owen fumbled the box he’d been picking up. It fell on his foot, and he jumped back with a yelp, while from inside the box he heard the distinct crunch of breaking glass.

“Are you okay?” Johnny rushed the few steps over to him, but Owen batted him away.

“I’m fine. Just…fucking clumsy,” he muttered, kneeling down to see what he’d broken. He almost protested when Johnny knelt beside him. His skin got all hot and tingly just from his closeness, even though they weren’t touching. After LA, Owen should want to put distance between them. Instead, he couldn’t stop himself from straying into the glow of Johnny’s company, like one of those stupid, light-drunk moths that bounced off the yard light at night.

A couple of days and one dumpster-load of attic contents later, Owen was still failing to honor the agreement they’d made when they left LA—being just friends.

Owen was used to relationships not going the way they were supposed to. The problem was that Johnny was right there, every day. Avoidance was his best defense mechanism, even if he couldn’t say it had ever served him well. In fact, the net result was that he was bothered by his distant relationship with his parents, he systematically failed to make new friends, and he rarely went on any second dates.

He thought about Johnny’s friends and how much fun he’d had dancing with them. They’d embraced him as one of them immediately. But had that just been Johnny’s friends being nice to him for Johnny’s sake? Probably. Or maybe Johnny had so much charisma that some of it spilled onto Owen when he was nearby.

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