21. Jo

Playlist: Too Well | Renee Rapp

“Okay, so check-in isn’t until 4pm, but I figure we’ll crash at my parents’ until three-ish and meet with Audrey then, does that work?” I huff as we drag our luggage behind us on the train platform.

“Sounds good,” Hunter says, sounding annoyingly less huffy than I am. “Who’s picking us up?”

“I texted my mom and dad, so it’ll probably be one of them.”

It’s not. I’m surprised when Millie’s best friend, Poppy, is waiting in the parking lot next to her lilac beetle bug and holding a sign that says, “The baby’s yours, Joe.” above her head.

“Oh my god!” Hunter squeals, squealing and jogging to the car. “This is the prettiest vehicle I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“Thank you! You must be Hunter,” Poppy grins at her, pushing a piece of light pink hair from her eyes. “I’m Poppy, Jo’s baby mama.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” I roll my eyes. In high school, Poppy and I had both ended up with mono and quarantined at her parents’ house. We’d spent the days watching Maury and Jerry Springer, and we counted eight episodes in that one month with men named Joe getting paternity tests. We thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

Hunter looks confused, but smiles and shrugs her shoulders. “Okay! Yeah, I’m Hunter, Jo’s fake girlfriend. What do you think about having fake beef?”

“Ooh, adding to the lore. Love it,” Poppy says, nodding seriously.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her as we put our suitcases in the trunk.

Poppy sighs heavily. “God, you’re not going to believe this. After six years, I was finally caught by your parents.”

“Doing what?” I ask, opening the passenger side door and pushing the seat forward so I can climb into the back seat.

“Jo, don’t be silly. I’m shorter, you take the front seat.” Hunter says, hip checking me out of the way and clambering into the backseat before I can object. It gives me a great view of her ass, and I want to reach out and squeeze it and oh my god what the fuck is wrong with me?

“Okay so you know how your parents have, like, that super expensive, snazzy espresso machine? Sometimes I sneak in and use it.”

I close the door behind me as I sit down. “You break into my parents' home to use their espresso machine?”

“Hey, stop being so judgy!” Poppy shoves the paternity sign into my lap before pulling the door closed behind her. “I run into Ren and Millie at least a few times a week.”

“You work at a hybrid bookstore and tea shop.”

She checks that her seatbelt extender is secure before pulling it across her torso. “Right. What about books or tea has anything to do with access to an espresso machine?”

That’s valid.

“Anyway,” she continues, turning the car on. “Your dad came in this morning and was all, ‘I’ll let it slide this once if you get Jo and her fake girlfriend slash roommate from the train station.’”

“So now you won’t be using the espresso machine?” Hunter pipes in from the back seat.

Poppy stares at her in the rearview mirror. “Who the hell said that?”

“There’s a bag of mass markets for you in the trunk,” Poppy tells me when we arrive at my parents’ house.

“Thanks!”

“I’m impressed you were able to pack everything you needed into one bag,” Hunter says, hoisting my bag out of the trunk before grabbing her own. It makes me giddy. She’s so fucking cute.

“Oh, I didn’t. I had the decor and shit mailed here, and to the inn.” I slam the trunk closed and wave at Poppy through her rearview mirror. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

I’m not looking at her, but somehow I can feel Hunter’s smile. It’s like whenever she smiles, there’s an energy-shift. Like a handful of confetti is thrown into the air.

“I’ll have to take you to a rodeo sometime.” Her voice is so gentle and teasing and safe . “That way it can be your first rodeo.”

I force a scowl at her as we walk up the driveway. “What makes you think I haven’t already been to a rodeo?”

She laughs, bright and bubbly. “Um, everything about you?”

I can’t help it, she makes me laugh, a loud, snorting laugh. It’s jarring how suddenly and violently it hits me that I don’t care that I’m snorting, that I haven’t heard Kelsey asking me if I had to laugh so loud. Hunter grins brightly at me, like she’s thinking the same thing.

“Tomorrow night is country night,” I remind her when I stop laughing. “I rented a mechanical bull and everything.”

“Well,” Hunter says, smirking at me as she rings the doorbell. “Maybe you can borrow my cowboy hat. But you know what they say—wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

She blushes and I feel my cheeks heat, as well.

“Who says that?” I ask.

“Cowboy smut,” she says plainly.

“Cowboy what? ”

“Cowboy smut?” My mother says as she opens the door. “I’ve read some of that.”

“Oh, Jesus.” I rub my hand over my face in exasperation. “I do not want to know that about you.”

She ignores me. “TikTok told me about this one with a single father and his nanny…”

“I read that one last year!” Hunter squeals. “I can’t believe romance authors manage to make cowboys hot. They’re actually the worst in real life.”

Mom pouts. Gross . “That’s a shame. They’re so nice in books. And naughty.” She winks, like a fucking weirdo.

I dry heave as Dad appears behind Mom. “Who’s naughty?”

“Your wife apparently has a thing for fictional cowboys,” I say, shuddering.

Dad smirks and teasingly nudges mom with his elbow. “Oh, I know. I love that your mother loves cowboys.”

Mom giggles. Hunter awws. I gag.

Hunter and I spend a few hours at my parents’ house, organizing the different decorations and things I'd sent here before we leave for the inn. “Audrey says we can start setting up the bridesmaids’ and brides’ rooms early, but our rooms won’t be ready until later.” I tell her, snapping a lid onto a plastic bin.

“That’s fine by me.” Hunter stretches her arms over her head and groans. “Did you notice your dad still hates me?”

I scoff. “My dad doesn’t hate anyone.”

It’s true, my dad’s never hated anyone.

But he does hate her and it’s unbelievably disconcerting. Hunter’s been her bubbly self and I see her slowly wilting as he refuses to give her his approval.

After he drives us to the SandPiper Inn, I confront him.

“I’ll be right in, Hun,” I tell her before she shuts the back door behind. I swivel my head and narrow my eyes at my dad, who at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Sean Quinn, calm your tits.”

“Calm my what ?”

“I get walking in on us was fucking weird and like I’m really sorry for traumatizing you but can you not be an asshole to Hunter? You’re hurting her feelings and it’s pissing me off.”

“I was afraid of this.” He sighs and turns his head slightly, staring out the windshield as Hunter walks into the inn.

“Afraid of what?”

“You still have feelings for her.”

“What?” I sputter. “No I do not .”

Do I?

“Do you remember how bad that fall was, Joey?” His voice is quiet, and he’s still staring ahead. “You were failing your classes and barely left your room. I was afraid we’d lose you.”

“That’s not Hunter’s fault. I was also deep in the closet and struggling with the knowledge you knew and no one else did. I’m grateful for how you handled it, making sure we were safe and keeping it to yourself, but I lived in fear that one day you’d say something. That everyone would know and reject me. I was depressed and scared. I had finally met someone I could be myself with. I probably would have been depressed no matter how or when my first relationship ended.”

“I don’t trust her,” he says, still not looking at me.

“I do. And I like to think that you trust me. So can you be nice?”

He looks at me from the corner of his eye. “You care this much?”

“Yeah. Hunter’s my friend. You don’t have to like her, just stop being a fucking asshole.”

“I can’t believe the way my damned offspring talk to me,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “The disrespect.”

I smirk and lean over, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, Pops. Here’s your chance to practice.”

He sighs long-sufferingly as Hunter walks out of the inn. He rolls down his window. “Bye, Hunter.”

She stops in her tracks and blinks as she looks around. “Me?”

“Yes,” he says stiffly. “Goodbye.”

I roll my eyes. And here I thought we all got our dramatics from our mother.

“Thanks!” Hunter says, perking up. “And thanks for the ride, Mr. Quinn. Enjoy your weekend!”

“Don’t you feel like an asshole for being mean to that sweet angel?” I tease as she walks to the trunk.

He grunts.

We finish unpacking the car and haul everything in the lobby.

“Jo!” Audrey, the owner of the inn, waves at me from behind the front desk.

“Hey! It’s great to see you again, Audrey. Thanks for letting us set up early.”

She waves her hand at me. “Oh, anything for you.” She smiles and turns to Hunter. “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Audrey, the owner here.”

“Jo’s mentioned you! I’m Hunter Cleary, the photographer. You have a beautiful home. I mean place. I mean business.” Hunter blushes.

Audrey grins and looks proudly around the lobby. “Thank you. It is my home, in a way. My aunt owned it and left it to me when she passed. Becoming the owner is the second best thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s really spectacular,” I assure her. “It feels new and classic at the same time.”

She smiles sheepishly. “Thanks. Hunter, did Jo tell you I’ve known her since she was in diapers?”

I roll my eyes. “Audrey and Kat were best friends growing up, and she was always at our house being annoying with Kat.”

I don’t remember it that well, but I do remember that when in my early teens, Audrey stopped coming around. Kat stopped talking about her, and I didn’t see her again until I came with Becky and Kelsey a few months back for a tour of the inn. I haven’t asked her, but I guess she got married, because she has a different last name. Plus, now that we’re both adults, she’s way less annoying. I like to think I’d be monumentally less devastated if she and my older sister refused to let me play with them.

“Yep,” Audrey affirms, flashing a quick smile. “So if you want to hear any embarrassing stories from her adolescence, let me know.”

Hunter’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, I would love to hear embarrassing stories from her adolescence.”

Hunter and Audrey immediately fall into easy conversation, with Audrey telling her about the time my tongue got caught in my braces while my parents were out and Kat didn’t have her license yet, so Audrey had to be the one to drive me to the orthodontist.

She gives a giggling Hunter and I the keys to the bridal party’s rooms. “Sorry, we had one late checkout today, and I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind if it was your room,” she says as we climb the stairs to the floor the rooms are on.

“No worries!” Hunter and I say at the exact same time. We both freeze, and slowly turn our heads to face each other.

“Wait,” I say slowly, a feeling of dread slowly washing over me. “Whose room?”

Audrey stops walking and spins around to face us, putting her hands on her wide hips. “Yours.”

“Which one of us?” I ask.

“Both of you?”

“What?” Hunter squeaks. “No, no, we requested separate rooms.”

“So we could have separate workspaces,” I add. “Since you know, we’re both working this weekend.”

“I…one of the brides called to tell me that you had decided you wanted one room,” Audrey stammers.

“Christ on a cracker,” Hunter mutters. “I’m gonna kill her.”

“Oh,” I say, voice cracking. “That’s fine.”

“Aren’t you two dating?” Audrey looks confused.

I don’t blame her.

“Yep! We’re actually hella in love.” I wrap my arm around Hunter’s waist and pull her into me. “Right, honey?”

“Right. Hella in love.” She’s staring blankly at the wall, and I think she’s dissociating.

“We both plan to spend our nights working and we get too distracted by each other’s bodies if we’re in the same room,” I blurt out.

Hunter makes a choking noise next to me, and I dig my fingers into her side.

“I’m so sorry, when I canceled the separate rooms, the extra was booked immediately.” I have to give it to her, Audrey does genuinely seem to be sorry, despite the absolutely absurd situation happening in front of her.

“It’s okay,” I assure her, waving my hand at her. “Really. We’ll make it work.”

Hunter and I are silent as we decorate the brides’ and bridesmaids’ rooms. When we finish, our room is ready and Audrey brings us our key.

“Maybe we’ll have separate beds!” Hunter says hopefully.

We do not have separate beds, and we stare at each other across the singular, king sized bed.

“What in the regency road trip romance is this bullshit?” I groan, rubbing my hands over my face.

“Well,” Hunter says quietly. “At least it’s a king.”

“Could this weekend get any worse?” I complain, throwing my hands up.

“It’s your ex’s bachelorette weekend. I’m a thousand percent certain it’s going to get worse.”

She’s not wrong.

“Okay, well…”

“Are you going to use the dresser?” Hunter interrupts, striding to her suitcase, which is leaned against the wall in the entryway next to mine. .

“Cool.” She pulls her bag right in front of the dresser, squatting down to unzip it.

I just stare at her like an absolute creep. I stare at her hands, the way they move as she unzips the bag, then her lower lip which is clasped between her teeth in concentration. I have to force myself to look away as she straightens.

Thud .

I look back her way as something falls to the ground. Our eyes meet before looking down to see what fell.

“Oh my god,” I choke out, just as Hunter lunges to grab the hot pink object from the floor. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Hunter straightens her back again. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“Are you lying to me?” I ask, mouth dry.

“Obviously, Giovanna,” she snaps, eyes meeting mine. “I dropped my fucking vibrator.”

“Why did you bring a vibrator?”

“I was supposed to have my own room!” She brandishes the rabbit vibrator at me like a wiggly sword. “I don’t know about you, but I have a feeling I’m going to need some stress relief this weekend, and I’m not ashamed of that!”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate you should be ashamed of masturbating,” I stammer. “I just…we’re sharing a room now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was this inanimate object supposed to magically make its way back to the city when the plans changed? I’ll have a talk with Reba later.”

She named her vibrator after a country singer. That checks out.

“Now I can’t use it, so be prepared for me to be extra cranky this weekend,” she adds.

I nod absently. “Okay.”

She bends back down and shoves it into the suitcase. “There. Safely stowed away. No more scary vibrator to get you.”

As she finishes unpacking, I bring my toiletries to the bathroom. I look in the mirror, and yep. My face is flushed. Not surprising, considering I can’t stop imagining what Hunter looks like when she uses her toy on herself. I wonder if she still giggles when she comes, if she’s still strangely sensitive between her breasts, if she’d moan my name if I were the one using it on her…

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Hunter asks, barreling through the doorway into the bathroom, and dumping her toiletries on the sink top.

“Everyone should be here by seven, and we’re having a catered welcome dinner and karaoke in the event room downstairs. So I have to decorate and get ready…”

“Want me to help?” she interrupts.

“Oh no, I’m sure you have your own shit to set up.”

She shrugs. “Not really. Just have to check the lighting, which shouldn’t take long.”

“Aren’t you doing a photobooth?”

“Am I? Ah, shit. I forgot.” She smiles sheepishly.

“If you can’t do it, it’s fine. I took care of all the accessories and backdrops, since they wanted specific theming.”

“Oh, that’s easy then.” Hunter waves her hand dismissively. “Did you get box lights?”

“I did.” I wanted to be sure we had everything we needed, and it’s on Kelsey and Becky’s dime, so why the hell not buy what she’d need? Hunter usually does event photography, so light boxes aren’t a part of her usual equipment.

“Giovanna Quinn.” I’m surprised when Hunter wraps her arms around my shoulders and presses a kiss to my cheek.

“What just happened?” I ask, eyes widened as I stare at us in the mirror. Her eyes meet mine in the reflection, and I almost collapse when she rests her head on my shoulder.

“I was going to say I was so happy I could kiss you. But then I decided to do it. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s cool,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “Totally, totally cool.”

“Okay. Yay,” Hunter says, smiling at my reflection. Her fingers brush mine and for a moment, I let myself pretend this is real, like I did that summer. It’s as if I see our past and our present in the reflection. Hunter and I are touching, for the sake of touching. Because I let myself love her, and she loves me.

God, how pathetic.

I clear my throat. “We should go over the itinerary before decorating.”

She’s still looking at our reflection, and it makes me want to keep looking, too. What is she thinking? Is she imagining the same things I am? Or is she imagining I’m a better woman, one who’s worthy of her goodness? One who’s not me.

“That sounds perfect,” she says softly. “What do you need from me?”

Too much . I think to myself. I need too much from you and that’s why this can’t happen. Why I can only pretend.

“Just help decorating, really,” I say instead, finally forcing my gaze away from the mirror. The reflection felt too real. A reflection of two women who love each other. A reflection of everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’ll never have.