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AS I STOOD THERE in Will's front room, I realized where I was and how I felt and the thought hit me that this was going way too fast. Will wanted me for sex, plus more. In other words, a real, modern relationship. Not a summer fling.
And at some point, he'd decided that we were together. I had sort of agreed, burying my opinion about our differences. But after a day—just a day—of letting him in and of being out in the open with our relationship, I had qualms.
The sex, at least for me, was the easy part. We were extremely sexually compatible. It was the "more" that I was hung up on. Could I fall for Will Thrash? Someone who, down at his core, believed things that were the opposite of me?
Conservatives believed in national defense and—in my opinion—were driven by fear and caution. I was an idealistic tree hugger and wanted the world to hold hands and get rid of weapons. Conservatives chose the economy over the environment. I chose the opposite. The conservative leaders I saw in the news were focused on white America—Christian, xenophobic, traditional values. This clashed with my core belief of focusing on the plurality. I wanted tolerance, progressiveness, and welcoming of all people.
I shook my head. I didn't think this could go anywhere. We were too different.
And even if we could figure out our politics, could I be with him, even if it would go nowhere? Absolutely nowhere? He lived up here and I lived down in Santa Barbara and that would not work, long term. I was used to moving on. I could not get attached, could not do so for longer than the time I was here.
But even for the summer, he wanted a relationship and a relationship meant that we could talk about things. So, for starters, I pinpointed one thing that was wrong with him being sweet.
"I don't trust you being nice to me. I only trust you when you're an asshole. When you're nice, I think that something’s wrong, that you're kidding, that you're going to turn around and hurt me. It's a lot easier for this just to be about sex."
He stared at me and shook his handsome head.
"Gotta fix that," he said, and he thought for a moment and continued slowly. "How can I say this? You made me realize that I don't have to be a dick to you, like I am to others. I can be, well, decent." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "You're the first woman I’ve ever met who doesn't back down on my shit and you're so beautiful, the hottest I've ever seen. Your smoking body, your beautiful face. Fuck. But it's not just that. We’re mirror images of each other. We have the same values. Can't you see it? I know what you believe in. You don’t hide it. I like that. You've got a heart, Marie, and you give it to everyone—to kids, to animals. I want you to give it to me. I'll take care of it. But I see I've gotta make you trust me. That's where we are isn't it?"
My eyes widened and I nodded.
And he kept going, spilling out the honesty, stepping forward. "I don't know what I'm doing, all I know is that I can't stay away from you. I haven't been in many relationships. And when I have, they haven't lasted long."
I stepped back. "Me neither. That's why I'm scared of what you're asking." He went to take a step forward and stopped, looking at me, his dark eyes big.
"But you feel it too, don't you?" he asked, suddenly looking tentative. I had never seen Will look this open. Vulnerable.
I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. "Will, if I let whatever this is go forward, then I feel like I'm setting myself up for hurt. I have to leave at the end of the summer. You're never going to leave the ranch."
"Don't be so sure about that," he muttered.
I paused. "What?"
"I told the developers no." He looked up at the ceiling.
"No?" I didn't understand what he was talking about.
"To millions. Again."
My stomach plummeted. "Shit." How long would he be able to resist that kind of pressure?
Reading my mind, he continued, a look of disgust washing over his face. "Yeah. They're gonna buy up the neighbors, though. I'm gonna get squeezed out."
This pissed me off. "What the fuck? We need farms. We don't need ranchettes! Shit." While I was talking, he headed toward me so that I had backed against the wall. He placed one hand on the wall next to my head and I felt his warmth. He leaned in toward me.
"I don't know how long I'm gonna be able to hold out. The money could buy my mom better treatment. I'm told that there are experimental things that could help her. Having some cash around . . ." He trailed off. "Not easy to say no. If I sell, I could go anywhere. And if I don't." He sighed. "Since I've already gone too fast, I might as well keep at it. I want you to stay here, with me, after the summer. You could live here and finish your degree. It's not that far to UCSB. Lots of professors live up here. You could set up whatever counseling practice you want, up here. Do whatever you want. I just want to be with you."
I took a deep breath.
I couldn't do it.
I liked him. I was attracted to him. But I couldn't do it.
"Will, this is just sex. We're dating for the summer. Don't make it something more."
The pained look on his face tore me apart.
"Fuck," he said, pulling his arm back and taking a step away from me. "Serves me right." Then he continued, louder, and getting angry, "So let me get this straight. I treat you like shit, you want to stay. I'm nice to you, you want to go. What the fuck do I have to do, Marie? I like you and I think you like me. I want you. I want you in my life and I want you in my bed. You, the hot woman who saves animals and kids. You, the one who fights for what you believe in. You, the one that I know what I see is what I get. You deserve to be treated right. I'm trying to do that and you say you have to go?"
I tried to melt into the wall. "That's crazy, isn't it?" I whispered.
"Yeah," he whispered back, angry and biting and in my face. "I don't want to go back to treating you like shit. I want to take care of you. I want to fucking worship the ground you walk on."
Worship the ground I walk on.
Shit.
We stared at each other.
"Look," he said, pissed. "Forget it. Take a break. Go back to the bunkhouse. If you want to be with me, come back. I'll wait. Go. Just fucking go."
I opened the door and went to leave, pausing in the door. I looked at my feet, willing them to move forward, to leave. Just like I always leave, like I move on.
Fuck.
I was pushing him away.
I was pushing away the guy who made my pulse run. Who made me more turned on than anyone. Who surprised me with his thoughtfulness. Who said more by his actions than by his words.
The guy who was raised by a double-amputee, Spanish-speaking mother, and opened up his home to disabled kids and kids who’d never have a chance to ride a horse otherwise.
The guy who turned down millions of dollars because it meant more to him to have a farm than to have a ton of cash.
Who swore to me every time he was with me that he wanted me more and more.
Who argued with me about my politics, but when it came down to it, he was right there with me, saving the world in his own way.
All of a sudden, the thought of spending the night alone came to me. A night not in Will's arms. No Will to ask me how I was doing. No Will to dance with. No Will to fuck. If I couldn't do it for one night, I couldn't do it ever again.
A breeze came in through the door and whipped around me.
No.
Fuck no.
I couldn't do it.
Stepping back into his house and slamming the door shut, I turned to him and burst into tears.
"I can't," I whispered. "I can't stay away from you."
I ran into his arms and he nuzzled his face into my hair. "I can't stay away from you either," he said gruffly, squeezing me tight. "What do you need, Marie? Go for a walk? Go for a drive? Something to eat?"
"I need you to make love to me. And mean it."
"That can be arranged," he said huskily.