Starting With You

15. A little alcohol pick-me-up.

Teddy

IT'S A WARM SPRING DAY, THE TEMPERATURE finally breaking into the 60s for the first time all year, and I stop my chores to pull off my hoodie.

Spring in Minnesota is like a slow trickle of color on a painter's canvas—patches of green on the ground with smatters of buds sprouting into leaves on trees—and suddenly there's an explosion of neon greens and pastel pinks and cheerful yellows, the whole canvas alive with new life.

Cleo the pig is following me around again today, as is his custom. I've since given up on thwarting his escape attempts and just lean into the fact that the pig is now my shadow. He's not a bad companion to have anyway. His grunts are preferable to human conversation on most days.

I stoop to pat his head before moving on to cleaning out the goats' stall. Cleo loiters outside, never one to mingle with the brazen goats, and waits for me to finish my job. Just as I'm closing the gate behind me, I hear footsteps approach. I shield my eyes from the sun and see Jackson round the corner.

A whoosh of breath leaves my mouth, relieved that the guest isn't Jensen. I have managed to avoid him all day, thankfully, but I'm on edge, wondering if every sound I hear or shape I see could be his.

"Hey, Teddy." I can hear the warmth in Jackson's voice, which is both comforting and frustrating.

We had a good time on our date weeks ago; and maybe if the timing was different, I'd consider going out with him again. But things are just too weird right now. The last thing I need is to add another guy messing with my head into the mix.

"Hi, Jackson. What brings you out this way?"

"Looking for you, actually." His smile is genuine; and, for a moment, I wish things were uncomplicated. That I could be in a headspace to date him. But it's not fair to lead him on when my mind has been stuck elsewhere.

I lean against the fence, propping my leg up on one of the railings. He follows suit, situating himself next to me. "Me, huh? What can I do for you?"

"Go out with me again?"

His brazen way of asking me out makes me laugh. No beating around the bush with him. It's refreshing, uncomplicated. I smile at him, relishing the way he puts me at ease. Before I can respond to his question, though, Cleo grunts in the direction of a new arrival.

Jensen.

He stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, feet spread wide. The hard expression on his face pisses me off, and I stand up straight, squaring off. His eyes dart to Jackson, who is still perched against the fence, seemingly nonplussed. Then he directs his glare at me, jaw clenched. Without saying a word, he turns around and stalks off.

"I'm taking this whole interaction as a no to my question?" Jackson asks a few minutes later, pushing off from his position against the fence.

My face heats with embarrassment. "God, Jackson, I'm sorry you've been caught up in whatever this is...was..." I wave my hand in the general direction Jensen disappeared. "It's, God, I don't know what it is. Well, it's embarrassing, that's for sure."

"Complicated. The word you're looking for is complicated. It usually is when a man and a woman try to be just friends."

When I open my mouth to object, he puts up a hand and shakes his head. "It's not my business, Teddy. But if you want some advice anyway, don't let him get away with this shit. From where I stand, he likes to hold you at arm's length until someone else comes sniffing around."

I want to defend Jensen, my deep-rooted loyalty springing to life, but is Jackson so far off the mark? Isn't that exactly what Jensen has been doing all these years?