Under Summer Sky • Zarry

2. In charge

I thought he had pretty eyes.

He then took a sharp right turn and I nearly dropped my coffee over the side of the golf cart as we entered a windy dirt road and began driving across the field where I used to run around trying to catch Zayn, which wasn't that difficult, right before I tackled him down to the ground like an American football player and wouldn't get off until he said the magic word.

I never told him what the magic word was and I don't think I even knew. I also don't know why he always let me do that to him.

We kept on driving until we approached rows upon rows of grape vines growing in long, parallel lines and there were already several vineyard employees out picking handfuls of grapes and placing them into crates.

"So the first thing we do is pick the grapes that are ripe enough to be picked. You always ignore the shit looking ones. All the way down the vineyard on your left are green grapes, which we'll use to make our Sauvignon Blanc. And then here we have the darker grapes for your Merlots and specifically the Sangiovese which are pretty popular and we use them to make Chianti and Brunello di Montalcino," Zayn explained as he continued driving the golf cart along the length of the vineyard.

I was trying to retain the information as he spoke but it was reminding me of school and my natural tendency to goof off took over.

"Aw shit, I don't think I can do this," I said as I peered down the trails.

"What? Why not?" He hastily stopped the go kart and gave me a concerning look.

"I don't know my colors," I sniggered.

Zayn rolled his eyes at me and just kept on driving. "Maybe you ought to go back to year one then."

"I've just been relying on my infectious personality to get me through life," I tossed back, grinning with my dimples poking through.

"I knew it. You're the type of person who thinks being charming and good looking all the time are enough to get you whatever you want, aren't you?" he teased.

I smirked. Well, he thought I was attractive and he wasn't wrong.

"Hey I never said anything about my looks. That was all you," I pointed out humbly, but still with some amusement and suddenly Zayn had nothing else to say.

He then turned around and took a sharp left back towards the open fields. I started realizing that morning that Zayn and I had this very quick, natural back-and-forth type of banter with each other and it kind of reminded me of how I acted with my mates.

But the dynamic didn't feel quite the same as friendship.

There was this strange, heavy kind of energy that existed between us and I didn't know what it was exactly or why I felt it there.

I started to think maybe it was because Zayn still had a bit of a chip on his shoulder from how I tormented him as a kid. I kept stopping to wonder if that was actually it and if he felt that weird energy too or if it was just me.

We made our way toward the winery next, which was situated beyond the vineyard. The building resembled that of an extremely large, red barn and it had lush ivy crawling up the front of it. There were several people walking around outside, as well. Some of them were the vineyard patrons and others were just workers who were carrying crates of grapes inside up the side ramp. Zayn parked the golf cart in the front and motioned for me to follow him inside.

"So this is the winery," Zayn explained as we walked in through the front door where sat an extensive wine room filled with racks and racks of bottles to purchase.