FlawlessASmallTownEnemiestoLoversRomanceElsieSilver
Copyright?2022byElsieSilver
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreview.
Thisisaworkoffiction.Anynames,characters,placesorincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationandusedinafictitiousmanner.Anyresemblancetoactualpeople,places,oreventsispurelycoincidentalorfictional.
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Forthegirlwhoneverquiteknewwhatshewantedtodowithherlife,andforthewomanwhofigureditout.Sometimesweseizethemoment,andsometimesitseizesus.
GreggLevoyContents
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Epilogue
HeartlessSneakPeek
BooksbyElsieSilver
Acknowledgments
AreyouaModernBelle?
AbouttheAuthor1
Summer
“Yougotoneangrymotherfuckerhere,Eaton.”
Thehandsomecowboyonthebackofahugebullscoffsandshiftshishandaroundtheropebeforehim.Hisdarkeyestwinkleonthescreen,allthehardlinesofhisfacepeekingthroughthecageofhishelmet.“Thehardertheybuck,thehappierIam.”
Icanbarelyhearwhatthey’resayingoverthedinofthecrowdinthevastarenawithmusicblaringinthebackground,butthesubtitlesatthebottomofthescreenclearupanythingthatmightotherwisegetmissed.
Theyoungmanleaningoverthepenchucklesandshakeshishead.“Mustbeallthatmilkyoudrink.Nobrokenbonesfortheworld-famousRhettEaton.”
Theeasilyrecognizablecowboygrinsbehindthecageoverhisface,aflashofwhiteteethandthewinkofanambereyefrombeneaththeblackhelmet.AcharminggrinIknowfromspendinghoursstaringataglossy,stillversionofit.
“Beatit,Theo.YouknowIfuckin’hatemilk.”
AteasinggrintouchesTheo’slipsashespeakswithalightlyaccentedvoice.“Youlookcuteinthoseadswithitpaintedaboveyourlipthough.Cuteforanoldguy.”
TheyoungermanwinksandthetwomenshareafriendlylaughasRhettrubsahanduptheropemethodically.
“I’drathergetbuckedoffabulleverydamndaythandrinkthatshit.”
TheirlaughterisallIhearasmyfatherpausesthevideoonthelargeflatscreen,rednesscreepinguphisneckandontohisface.
“Okay…”Iventurecautiously,tryingtopiecetogetherwhythatexchangerequiresthisimpromptumeetingwiththetwonewestfull-timehiresatHamiltonElite.
“No.Notokay.Thisguyisthefaceofprofessionalbullriding,andhejustskeweredhisbiggestsponsors.Butitgetsworse.Keepwatching.”
Hehitsplayagain,aggressively,likethebuttondidsomethingwronginthiswholeaffair,andthescreenflashestoadifferentscene.Rhettiswalkingoutsideofanarena,throughtheparkinglotwithaduffelbagslungoverhisshoulder.Thehelmetisnowreplacedbyacowboyhatandaslimmanindarkbaggyclothesistakingquickstridestokeepupwithhistargetwhilethecameramanfollowsandrunstape.
Idon’tthinkthepaparazziusuallyfollowbullriders,butRhettEatonhasbecomesomethingofahouseholdnameovertheyears.Notaparagonofpuritybyanystretch,butasymbolofroughandtumble,ruggedcountrymen.
ThereportertakesalittleskipsteptogetfarenoughaheadthathecanlinehismicrophoneupwithRhett’smouth.
“Rhett,canyoucommentonthevideothat’sbeencirculatingthisweekend?Anyapologiesyou’dliketomake?”
Thecowboy’slipsthin,andhetriestohidehisfacebehindthebrimofhishat.Amuscleinhisjawflexes,andhistonedbodygoestaut.Tensionlineseverylimb.
“Nocomment,”hebitesoutthroughgrittedteeth.
“Comeon,man,givemesomething.”TheslenderguyreachesoutandpressesthemicrophoneagainstRhett’scheek.Forcingitonhimeventhoughhedeclinedtocomment.“Yourfansdeserveanexplanation,”thereporterdemands.
“No,theydon’t,”Rhettmutters,tryingtocreatespacebetweenthem.
Whydothesepeoplethinkthey’reowedaresponsewhentheyambushapersonwhoisotherwisemindinghisownbusiness?
“Howaboutanapology?”theguyasks.
AndthenRhettdeckshimintheface.
IthappenssofastthatIblinkinanattempttofollowthenowshakingandswivelingcameraangles.
Well,shit.
Withinseconds,thepushypaparazziisonthegroundclutchinghisface,andRhettisshakingouthishandashewalksawaywithoutaword.
Thescreenswitchesbacktonewsanchorssittingbehindadesk,andbeforetheycangiveanyinputonwhatwejustwatched,mydadflickstheTVoffandletsloosearumblingsoundoffrustration.
“Ihatethesefuckingcowboys.They’reimpossibletokeepinline.Idon’twanttodealwithhim.So,luckyforyoutwo,thisjobisupforgrabs.”He’spracticallyvibratingwithrage,butIjustleanbackinmychair.Myfatherfliesoffthehandleeasily,buthegetsoverthingsquicklytoo.I’mprettynonplussedbyhismoodswingsatthispointinmylife.Youdon’tlastlongatHamiltonEliteifyoucan’twithstandKipHamilton.
Luckyforme,Ihavealifetimeoflearningundermybelttobrushoffhismoods,soI’mimmune.I’vecometothinklikeit’spartofhischarm,soIdon’ttakeitpersonally.He’snotmadatme.He’sjust…mad.
“Iworkedmyassoffforyearstogetthiscountrybumpkinsponsorshipslikehe’sneverdreamedof,andthenashiscareeriswindingdown,hegoesandblowsitalluplikethis.”Myfather’shandflicksoveratthewall-mountedscreen.“Doyouhaveanyideahowmuchmoneytheseguysmakeforbeingnutsenoughtoclimbuponanangrytwo-thousand-poundbull,Summer?”
“Nope.”ButIhaveafeelinghe’sabouttotellme.Iholdmyfather’sdarkeyes,thesameshadeasmyown.Geoff,theotherinterninthechairbesideme,shrinksdowninhisseat.
“Theymakemillionsofdollarsifthey’reasgoodasthisasshole.”
Ineverwouldhaveguessedthiswassuchbigbusiness,butthentheydon’tcoverthatinlawschool.IknowallaboutRhettEaton,heartthrobbullridingsensationandmainstayteenagedcrush,butalmostnothingabouttheactualindustryorsport.OnecornerofmylipstugsupasIthinkbackonhowadecadeago,I’dlieinmybedandgazeatthatphotoofhim.
Rhettsteppeduponafence,glancingbackoverhisshoulderatthecamera.Openlandbehindhim,awarmsettingsun.Aflirtysmirkonhislips,eyespartiallyobscuredbyaworncowboyhat,andthepiècederésistance…Wranglerjeansthathuggedallthebestparts.
Soyeah,Iknowlittleaboutbullriding.ButIknowIspentanawfullotoftimestaringatthatphoto.Theland.Thelight.Itdrewmein.Itwasn’tjusttheguy.Itmademewanttobethere,watchingthatsunsetformyself.
“George,doyouknowhowmuchthatmilksponsorshiphejustflusheddownthetoiletwasworth?NottomentionalltheothersponsorswhoseballsI’llbefondlingtosmooththisshitover?”
IsweartoGodIalmostsnort.George.Iknowmydadwellenoughtoknowthathe’sawareit’sthewrongname,butit’salsoatesttoseeifGeoffhasthecojonestosayanything.FromwhatIgather,it’snotalwaysawalkintheparkworkingwithentitledathletesandcelebrities.Icanalreadytelltheguybesidemeisgoingtostruggle.
“Um…”Heflipsthroughthebinderontheboardroomtableinfrontofhim,andIletmygazelingeroutthefloor-to-ceilingwindows.TheonesthatoffersweepingviewsoutovertheAlbertaprairies.Fromthe30thfloorofthisbuilding,theviewoverCalgaryisunparalleled.Thesnow-cappedRockyMountainsoffinthedistancearelikeapainting—itnevergetsold.
“Theansweristensofmillions,Greg.”
Ibitetheinsideofmycheektokeepfromchuckling.IlikeGeoff,andmydadisbeingatotaldick,butafteryearsofbeingonthespotinthissameway,it’samusingtoseesomeoneelseflounderthewayIhaveinthepast.
Godknowsmysister,Winter,wasneveronthereceivingendofthiskindofgrilling.SheandKiphaveadifferentrelationshipthanminewithourfather.Withme,he’splayfulandshootsfromthehip;withher,hestaysalmostprofessional.Ithinkshelikesthatbetteranyway.
Geofflooksoveratmewithaflatsmile.
I’veseenthatexpressiononpeople’sfacesatworkmanytimes.Itsays,Mustbenicetobetheboss’slittlegirl.Itsays,How’sthatnepotismtreatingya?ButI’mtrainedtotakethiskindoflashing.Myskinisthicker.Mygive-a-fuckmeterislessattuned.Iknowthatinfifteenminutes,KipHamiltonwillcrackjokesandbesmiling.Thatperfectveneerheusestosuckuptoclientswillquicklyslipbackintoplace.
Themanisamaster,evenifabitofaweasel.ButIthinkthatcomeswiththeterritoryofwheelinganddealingthecontractshedoesasatop-tiertalentagent.
IfI’mbeinghonest,I’mstillnotsosureI’mcutouttobeworkinghere.NotsureIreallywantto.Butit’salwaysseemedliketherightthingtodo.Iowemydadthatmuch.
“So,thequestionis,kids—howdoesonegoaboutfixingthis?I’vegottheDairyKingmilksponsorshiphangingbyathread.Imean,afuckingprofessionalbullriderjustslammedhisentirebase.Farmers?Dairyproducers?Itseemslikeitshouldn’tmatter,butpeoplearegoingtotalk.They’regoingtoputhimunderamicroscope,andIdon’tthinkthey’lllovewhattheysee.Thiswilldenttheidiot’sbottomlinemorethanyou’dthink.Andhisbottomlineismybottomline,becausethisnutjobmakesusallalotofmoney.”
“Howdidthefirstrecordingevengetout?”Iask,forcingmybrainbackontothetaskathand.
“Alocalstationlefttheircamerarunning.”Mydadscrubsahandoverhisclean-shavenchin.“Caughtthewholedamnthingandthensubtitleditandranitontheeveningnews.”
“Okay,soheneedstoapologize,”Geofftossesout.
Mydadrollshiseyesatthegenericsolution.“He’sgonnaneedtodoahellofalotmorethanapologize.Imean,heneedsabullet-proofplanforwhat’sleftoftheseason.He’sgotacoupleofmonthsuntiltheWorldChampionshipsinVegas.We’regonnaneedtopolishupthatcowboyhathalobeforethen.Orothersponsorsaregoingtodroplikefliestoo.”
Itapmypenagainstmylips,mindracingwithwhatwecoulddotohelpsalvagethissituation.Ofcourse,Ihavenexttonoexperience,soIsticktoleadingquestions.“So,heneedstobeseenasthecharming,wholesomecountryboynextdoor?”
Mydadbarksoutaloudlaugh,hishandscomingtobraceagainsttheboardroomtableacrossfromusasheleansdown.Geoffflinches,andIrollmyeyes.Pussy.
“Thatrightthereistheissue.RhettEatonisnotthewholesomecountryboynextdoor.He’sacockycowboythatpartiestoohardandhashordesofwomenthrowingthemselvesathimeveryweekend.Andhe’snotmadaboutit.Ithasn’tbeenanissuebefore,butthey’llpickapartanythingtheycannow.Likefuckingvultures.”
Iquirkaneyebrowandleanback.Rhettisanadult,andsurely,withanexplanationofwhat’sontheline,hecanholdittogether.Afterall,hepaysforthecompanytomanagethisstuffforhim.“So,hecan’tbeonhisbestbehaviorforacoupleofmonths?”
Mydaddropshisheadwithadeepchuckle.“Summer,thisman’sversionofgoodbehaviorwillnotcutit.”
“You’reactingasifhe’ssomesortofwildanimal,Kip.”IlearnedthehardwaynottocallhimDadatwork.He’sstillmyboss,evenifwecarpooltogetherattheendofeachday.“Whatdoesheneed?Ababysitter?”
Theroomisquietforseveralbeatswhilemydadstaresatthetabletopbetweenhishands.Eventually,hisfingerstapthesurfaceofit—somethinghedoeswhenhe’sdeepinthought.AhabitI’vepickedupfromhimovertheyears.Hisalmostblackeyeslift,andawolfishgrintakesoverhisentireface.
“Yeah,Summer.That’sexactlywhatheneeds.AndIknowtheperfectpersonforthejob.”
Andbasedonthewayhe’slookingatmerightnow,IthinkRhettEaton’snewbabysitterjustmightbeme2
Rhett
Kip:Pickupyourphone,youprettymotherfucker.
Rhett:YouthinkI’mpretty?
Kip:Ithinkyoupickingthatonespecificdetailoutofmytextmeansyou’reanidiot.
Rhett:Butaprettyone?
Kip:Answer.Your.Fucking.Phone.
Kip:Orbehereattwop.m.soIcanshakeyouinperson.
***
TheplanetouchesdownattheCalgaryairport,andI’mrelievedtobehome.
Especiallyaftertheclusterfuckthatwasthelastcoupleofdays.
TheguyIpunchedisn’tpressingcharges,butI’mnotsurehowmuchmoneymyagent,Kip,offeredhimtomakethathappen.Itdoesn’tmatter.Ifanyonecanmakethisallgoaway,it’sKip.
He’sbeentryingtocallme,whichisacluehe’slosinghismindbecausewehavemoreofatextingrelationship.WhichiswhywhenIpowermyphoneupbeforeI’msupposedto,I’mnotsurprisedtoseehisnamelightingupmyscreen.
Again.
Ihaven’tansweredbecauseI’mnotinthemoodforlisteningtohimyellatme.Iwanttohide.Iwantsilence.Birds.Ahotshower.SomeTylenol.Andadatewithmyhandtoeasesometension.
Notnecessarilyinthatorder.
That’swhatIneedtogetmyheadbackinthegame.Aquietbreakathomewhilethisblowsover.TheolderIget,thelongertheseasonseems,andsomehow,atonlythirty-twoyearsold,Ifeeloldasballs.
Mybodyhurts,mymindisoverfull,andI’mcravingthequietofmyfamilyranch.Sure,mybrothersaregoingtoannoythefuckoutofme,andmydadisgoingtotalktomeaboutwhenI’mplanningonquitting,butthat’sfamily.That’shome.
Isupposethere’sareasonusboyskeepcomingback.We’reco-dependentinawayourlittlesisterisn’t.Shetookonelookatabunchofgrown-assmenlivingonafarmtogetherandgotthehellouttadodge.
ImakeamentalnotetocallVioletandcheckuponherallthesame.
Myheadtipsbackagainstthecrampedseatwhiletheplanerollstoastopontherunway.“WelcometobeautifulCalgary,Alberta.”Thecabinfillswiththeflightattendant’svoiceandtheloudclickingofpeopleundoingtheirseatbeltsbeforethey’resupposedto.
Ifollowsuit.Eagertogetoutofthesmallseatandstretchmylimbs.
“IfCalgaryishomeforyou,welcomehome…”
You’dthinkthatafteroveradecadeofplayingthisgame,I’dbebetteratbookingmyflightsandhotels.Instead,I’mconstantlyscramblingtograbalast-minutespot,whichsuitsmejustfine.EventhoughI’mfeelingalittleclaustrophobic.
Whenthepersonbesidemefilesoutintotheaisle,asighofreliefwhooshesfrommylungs.Ican’tletmyselfsinkintothatintensetirednessyet.IstillhavetograbmytruckanddriveanhouroutsidethecitytoChestnutSprings.
“Pleaserememberthatsmokingisnotpermittedinsidetheterminal…”
Andbeforethat,Ihavetogomeetwithmypitbullofanagent.He’sbeenbarkingatmesincelastnightaboutnotansweringmyphone.
Now,I’mgoingtohavetofacethemusicformypoorbehavior.
IgroaninwardlyasIreachuptograbmyduffelbagfromtheoverheadcompartment.
KipHamiltonisthemanIhavetothankformycurrentfinancialsituation.Truthbetold,Ilikehimalot.He’sbeenwithmefortenyears,andIalmostconsiderhimafriend.Ialsodreamaboutpunchinghisclean-shavenfaceprettyregularly.Adouble-edgedsword,thatone.
Heremindsmeofanolder,moredebonaireversionofAriGoldfromEntourage,andIfuckinglovethatshow.
“ThankyouforflyingAirAcadia.Welookforwardtohostingyouagain.”
Thelineofpeoplefinallystartstomovetowardtheexit,andIshuffletowardtheaisleoftheplane,onlytofeelafirmpokeinthemiddleofmychest.
WhenIpeerdownthebridgeofmynose,I’mmetwithfuriousblueeyesandapinchedbrowonashortframe.Awomanwellintohersixtiesglaresupatme.
“Youshouldbeashamedofyourself.Insultingyourrootsthatway.InsultingusallwhoworksohardtoputfoodonthetablesofourfellowCanadians.Andthenassaultingaman.Howdareyou?”
Thispartofthecountrypridesitselfonfarmingandrurallife.Calgaryishometooneofthebiggestrodeosintheworld.Hell,somepeoplecallthecityCowtownforhowtightlytiedtheranchingandfarmingcommunityistothecity.
Igrewuponamassivecattleranch,Ishouldknow.Ijustneverknewnotlikingmilkwasacrime.
ButIgiveherasolemnnodanyhow.“Noinsultintended,ma’am.Webothknowthefarmingcommunityisthebackboneofourfineprovince.”
Sheholdsmyeyesassherollshershouldersbackandsniffsalittle.“You’ddowelltorememberthat,RhettEaton.”
AllIofferbackisatightsmile.“Ofcourse,”Isay,andthenItrudgethroughtheairportwithmyheaddown.Hopingtoavoidanymorerun-inswithoffendedfans.
Theinteractionstickswithmethroughoutbaggageclaimandouttomypickuptruck.Idon’tfeelbadaboutpunchingthatguy—hedeservedit—butasparkofguiltflicksinmychestforpotentiallyhurtingmyhard-workingfans.That’ssomethingIhadn’tconsidered.Instead,I’vespentthelastseveraldaysrollingmyeyesovermymilkhatredmakingthenews.
Whenmyvintagetruckcomesintoviewinthecoveredparkinggarage,Ibreatheoutasighofrelief.Isitapracticalvehicle?Maybenot.Butmymomgaveittomydadasagift,andIloveitforthatalone.Eventhoughit’scurrentlygotrustspotsandispaintedwithmismatchedgrays.
Ihavebigplansforhavingitrestored.Atreattomyself.Iwanttopaintitblue.
Idon’tremembermymom,butinpictureshereyeswereasteelycolor,andthat’swhatIwant.AlittlenodtothewomanIneverreallygottoknow.
Justneedtofindthetimefirst.
Baginhand,Ihopintomytruck.CrackedbrownleatherseatscreakingslightlyasIheavemytiredbodyintoplacebehindthewheel.Itfiresuptolife,billowingabitofdarkexhaustasIpulloutontothefreeway,headingstraighttothecitycenter.Myeyesareontheroad,butmyheadissomewhereelse.
WhenmyphoneringsItakemyeyesofftheroadonlymomentarily.Iseemysister’snameflashingonthescreenandcan’thelpbutsmile.Violetneverfailstomakemesmile,evenwheneverythingaroundmeistotalshit.She’scallingmebeforeIevenhadthechancetodialher.
Stoppedataredlight,Islidethebuttontoanswerandtapforspeakerphone.Thistruckdefinitelyisn’tequippedwithBluetooth.
“Hey,Vi,”Ianswer,almostshoutingtoprojectmyvoiceatthephoneontheseatnexttome.
“Hi.”Hervoiceoverflowswithconcern.“Howareyouholdingup?”
“Fine,Iguess.HeadingintoKip’sofficerightnowtofindoutwhatsortofdamageI’vedone.”
“Yeah.Getready.He’sworkedup,”shemutters.
“Howdoyouknow?”
“I’myouremergencycontactonfile.He’sbeenblowingupmyphoneaboutyouignoringhim.”Nowshe’slaughing.“Idon’tevenlivethereanymore.Youneedtoupdatethat.”
IsmirkasImergeontothehighway.“Yeah,butyou’retheonlyonewhoapprovesofmycareerandwon’tshowuptolecturemeaboutquittingifsomethinggoeswrong.Basically,you’restuckwiththejob.”
“So,I’llhavetoleavemyhusbandandkidstohoponaplaneandsitatahospitalwithyou?”
Nowthattakesmeback.EverytimeIgothurtasateenageroryoungadult,itwasVioletwhotookcareofme.“You’rejustsogoodatit.Butfairpoint.IthinkColemightkillmeifItakeyouawayfromhim.”
I’mpokingfun.Ilikeherhusbandalot,whichissayingsomethingbecauseIneverthoughtshe’dmeetsomeonegoodenoughforher.ButColeis.He’salsoex-militaryandkindofterrifying.Iwouldn’twanttopisshimoff.
Mysisterjustgigglesnow.Stillfuckinggiddyovertheguy,andIcouldn’tbehappierforher.“Hewouldbefine.Icouldsendhimoutyourwayifyouneedabodyguard?”
“Andleavehisgirlsbehind?Hewouldnever.”
Shedoesn’tlaughnow.Instead,shemakesaquietgruntingnoise.“Youknowifyouneedme,I’mthere,right?Iknowtheothersdon’tunderstand.ButIdo.Icanbethereforyouifyouneedit.”
Andthisisthethingwithmylittlesister.Shegetsme.She’sabitofadaredevilherself.Shedoesn’tcondemnmycareerthewaytherestofourfamilydoes.Butshehasherownlifenow.Idon’tneedhercoddlingme.She’sgotherownkidstocoddle.
“I’mgood,Vi.Comeforavisitwiththewholefamilysoonthough,yeah?Orattheendoftheseason,I’lldragmysorryassouttoyou.Raceyouonafancyracehorse.Kickyourass.”Itrytojoke,butI’mnotsuremytoneisallthatconvincing.
“Yeah,”shereplies.AndIswearIcanseeherchewingonherlipthewayshedoes,abouttosaysomethingbutstoppingherself.“I’llprobablyjustletyouwinbecauseIfeelsobadforyou.”
“Hey.Awinisawin,”Ichuckle,tryingtolightenthemood.
Andallsherespondswithis,“Iloveyou,Rhett.Besafe.Butmorethanthat,beyourself.You’reveryloveablewhenyoustaytruetowhoyouare.”
She’salwaysremindingmeofthis.TobeRhettEaton,boyfromasmalltown.NotRhettEaton,cockybullriderextraordinaire.
Iusuallyrollmyeyes,butdeepdown,Iknowit’sgoodadvice.Oneistherealme,theotherisforshow.
Theproblemis,notverymanypeopleknowtherealmeanymore.
“Loveyoutoo,sis,”IsaybeforehangingupandgettinglostinmyheadasIcruisedownthehighwaytowardthecity.
WhenIpullupatHamiltonEliteandnabanunusualstreetparkingspot,IrealizeI’vebeensolostinmythoughtsthatIbarelyrememberthedrive.Itipmyheadbackagainsttheseat.Again.Andtakeadeepbreath.It’shardtosayforsurehowmuchtroubleI’min,butbasedonhowthatwomanscoldedmepubliclyontheairplane,I’mgoingtogooutonalimbandguessafairbitofhotwater.
ButIknowthepeopleinthisarea.They’rehard-working.They’reproud.Andthey’vegotachipontheirshouldersfromthinkingthatpeoplefromotherwalksoflifedon’tunderstandtheirstruggle.
Andmaybethey’reright.MaybetheaverageCanadiandoesn’ttrulyunderstandthebackbreakingworkthatgoesintofarming.Intostockingourgrocerystoreshelves.
Butme?Ido.
Ijustfuckinghatemilk.Thewholethingissobizarrethatit’salmostfunny.
Iwalkintotheopulentbuilding.Everythingisshiny.Thefloor.Thewindows.Thestainless-steelelevatordoors.Itmakesmewanttogosmudgemyhandsalloverthemjusttomessthingsup.
Thesecurityguardgivesmeanodonthewaypast,andIstepintotheelevatorwithabunchofwell-dressedpeople.Irollmylipstogethertosmotherthesmirkwhenonewomanglaresatmewithbarelyrestrainedjudgment.
Worncowboyboots.Wouldn’tsurprisemeiftherewasstillcowshitonthesole.Perfectlybroken-injeanstoppedoffwithabrownshearlingjacket.Myhairislong,justhowIlikeit.
Wildandunruly.Justlikeme.
Butnothowthiswomanlikesit.Infact,therepulsionpaintedonherfaceisclearasday.
So,Iwinkatherandgiveherawayoverthetop,“Howdy,ma’am.”Albertaboysdon’thavetwangyaccents,butwhenyouspendyourlifeatrodeoswithguyswhodo,it’sprettyeasytoimitate.IonlywishIhadacowboyhatwithmetocompletethepicture.
ThewomanrollshereyesandthenjamsafingeratthebuttonthatreadsCLOSEDOOR.Thenexttimethedoorsglideopen,shestormsthroughthemwithoutabackwardsglance.
I’mstillchucklingaboutitwhenIgettothefloorthatishometoHamiltonElite,andbasedonthewaythereceptionist’seyeslightwhenIwalkin,shedoesn’tsharetheelevatorwoman’sperceptionofme.
Truthfully,mostwomendon’t.Bucklebunnies,citygirls,countrygirls.I’vealwaysbeenequal-opportunity,andIdolovewomen.Lesssorelationships.
Awalkonthewildsideiswhatonewomanrecentlycalledmeafterwespentafulldaylockedupinahotelroomcelebratingmywininawaythatwasfuninthemomentbutleftmefeelingalittlehollowattheend.
“Rhett!”Kip’svoiceboomsacrossthefoyerbeforeIevenhaveachancetochatupthegirlatthefrontdesk.
Totalcockblocker.
“Thanksforcomingstraighthere.”Hestridestowardmeandshovesahandinmydirectionbeforeshakingminesohardthatit’salmostpainful.ThishandshakeishiswayoftakingoutsomeaggressiononmeforwhateverpickleI’vegottenmyselfinto.Thefake,pinchedsmileonhisfaceisproofofthat.Theownerofthisagencydoesn’tmakeahabitofgreetinghisclientsatreception,whichmeansI’vedefinitelysteppedinit.
“Notaproblem,Kip.Ipayyouthebigbuckssothatyoucanbossmearound,right?”
Webothlaugh,butwealsobothknowIjustremindedhimI’mtheonepayinghimhere.Nottheotherwayaround.
Heclapsmeontheback,andmyteethshake.He’sabigman.“Followme.Let’schatintheconferenceroom.Congratulationsonyourwinthisweekend.You’regoingonquitethestreakthisyear.”
IhavenobusinesswinningasmanyeventsasIhavebeenthisseasonatmyage.Ishouldbeonthedownhillslideofmycareer,butthestarsarealigningrightnow.AndThree-TimeWorldChampionsoundsalotbetterthanTwo-TimeWorldChampion.Andthreegoldbucklesonmyshelfwouldlookbetterthantwo.
“Sometimesthestarsalign.”Igrinathimasheushersmeintoaroomthatholdsalongtablesurroundedbygeneric-lookingblackofficechairswithageneric-lookingmansittinginone.Brownish,close-cuthair.Brownisheyes.Graysuit.Boredexpression.Manicurednails.Softhands.Cityboy.
Nexttohimisawomanwhoisanythingbutgeneric.Deepbrownhairthatshinesanalmostmahoganycolorwhenthesunhitswhereit’stwistedintoatightbunonthecrownofherhead.Herblack-rimmedglassesareasmidgetoostrongonherdainty,doll-likeface,butheralmostover-fulllipspaintedadeep,warmpinksomehowbalancethemout.
Theivorydressshirtshe’swearingbuttonsallthewayup,lacetrimwrappedtightaroundherthroat.There’saslightlybemusedtwisttohermouth,butherarmsarecrossedprotectivelyacrossherchestandsparklingchocolateeyesgivenothingawayasshesizesmeupfromabovethetoprimofherglasses.
Iknowbetterthantojudgeabookbyitscover.ButtheworduptightflitsacrossmymindwhileIassessherallthesame.
“Takeaseat,Rhett.”Kippullsoutachairdirectlyacrossfromthewomanandsmoothlyfoldshimselfintotheseatbesidemebeforesteeplinghisfingersbeneathhischin.
Iflopdownandpushawayfromthetable,crossingabootedfootovermyknee.“Alright.GivememyspankingsoIcangohome,Kip.I’mtired.”
Myagentquirksabrowandregardsmecarefully.“Idon’tneedtogiveyouaspanking.You’veofficiallylosttheDairyKingsponsorship,andIthinkthat’sprobablybadenough.”
Irearback,andmyneckflushes.Thatsamesensationofgettingintroubleasachild.Missedcurfew.JumpedoffthebridgewiththebigkidswhenIwasn’tsupposedto.TrespassedontheJansens’farm.Therewasalwayssomething.Iwasnevernotintrouble.Butthisisdifferent.Thisisn’tchildhoodfunandgames.Thisismylivelihood.“Youhavetobekiddingme.”
“Iwouldn’tkidaboutthis,Rhett.”Hislipsflatten,andheshrugs.ThelooksaysI’mnotmad,I’mdisappointed.AndIhatethatdistinction,becausedeepdown,Ihatefailingpeople.Whenthey’remad,itmeanstheycareaboutyou.Theywantbetterforyou.Theyknowyou’recapableofbetter.Whenthey’reindifferentlikethis,it’salmostliketheyexpectedyoutoblowit.
It’swhyI’vealwayssaidIdon’tcarewhatpeoplethinkofme.Thentheydon’thavethepowertomakemefeellikethis—clearly,it’snotworking.
Ishiftinmyseat,eyesdartingtothetwootherpeopleintheroom.Theguyhasthegoodsensetolookdownatthepapersinfrontofhimself.
Butthewomanholdsmygaze.Thatsameunflinchinglookonherface.Andsomehow,Ijustknowshe’sjudgingme.
MyhandswipesacrossmymouthasIclearmythroat.“Well,howdowegetthemback?”
Kipleansbackwithadeepsigh,fingerstappingagainstthearmrestsofthechairhe’sin.“I’mnotsurewecan.Infact,Ithinkwemightbedoingdamagecontrolmorethananything.Hopingothersponsorsdon’tjumpship.Wrangler.Ariat.Theseareallcompanieswhoknowtheirclientele.Andtheirclientelearethepeopleyou’vepissedoff.Nottomention,punchingamanwithacamerarollingisaPRnightmare.”
MyeyesfindtheceilingasItipmyheadbackandswallowaudibly.“Whoknewnotlikingmilkwasacrime?Andthatguydeservedtohavehisjawadjusted.”
Thewomanacrossfrommehuffsoutasmallscoff,andmyeyesslideovertohers.Again,shedoesn’tlookaway.Thefuckisshestaringat?
Shejustsmirks.Likemeblowingamultimillion-dollarsponsorshipisfunnytoher.I’mexhausted.I’msore.Mypatienceisbeyondfried.ButI’magentleman,soIrubmytonguealongthefrontofmyteethandturnmyfocusbacktoKip.
“Ifthatcamerahadn’tbeenfilming,itwouldhavebeenfine.Butdon’tletanyonehearyoutalkingthatwayaboutassaultingsomeone.Iworkedmyassofftokeepthatfuckerfrompressingcharges.”
Irollmyeyes.I’mprettysureworkedmyassoffiscodeforspentabunchofmyhard-earnedmoneytoshuttheguyup.“Whywasthecameraevenrolling?Wasitintentional?”
Theoldermansighsandshakeshishead.“Itdoesn’treallymatter,doesit?Thedamageisdone.”
“Fuck.”IgroanandletmyeyesdriftshutforamomentasIrollmyshoulders,takingstockofhowpainfultherightoneis.ThewayIlandedonthatlastridewasnotideal.Rookiedismount.
“So,Ihaveaplan.”
IpeerbackatKipthroughtheslitsofmyeyes.“Ialreadyhateit.”
Helaughs.Andsmiles.Becausethatfuckerknowshehasmeoverabarrel.Webothknowmydaysarenumbered,andI’vemadethemistakeoftellinghimmyfamilyneedsmoremoneytomaintaintheranchlong-term.I’lltakewhatIneedtolivecomfortablysomewhereonourlandandthenworkwithmyolderbrother,Cade,tokeepWishingWellRanchupandrunning.
That’swhatyoudoforfamily.Whateverittakes.
“That’sfine.Webothknowyou’lldoitanyway.”
Iglareathim.Whatadick.
Hegesturesacrossthetable.“ThisisSummer.She’snewontheteam.Hasbeenaninternhereforseveralyears.She’salsoyournewshadow.”
Mybrowsscrunchupalongwithmynose.Becausethisplanalreadysmellslikeshit.“Elaborate.”
“Forthenexttwomonths,throughtheendoftheWorldChampionshipsinLasVegas,shewillworkasyourassistant.Amedialiaison.Someonewhounderstandspublicperceptionandcanhelpyoupolishyourimage.Youtwowilldiscussandcomeupwithaplan.Andthenshe’llconsultwithmesothatIdon’tstrangleyouforbeingsuchacolossalcocksucker.I’msureshe’dbeopentohelpingwithanyotheradministrativeworkyoumightneedaswell.Mostly,though,she’llbetheretowatchandkeepyououtoftrouble.”
Iglanceatthewoman,andshenods,notseemingalarmedbythissuggestionatall.
“NowIknowyou’rekidding.Becausethere’snowayyou’dassignamanmyageaglorifiedbabysitter.That’sjustinsulting,Kip.”
Iwanthimtoburstoutlaughingandtellmethisishisideaofpullingmyleg.
Buthedoesn’t.Hejuststaresbackatme,likethewoman,givingmybraintimetocatchuptowhathe’salreadydecidedforme.
“Thefuckouttahere.”IlaughindisbeliefasIsitupstraightertoglancearoundtheroomforsomeproofthatthisisareallyexcellentandhilariousjoke.Somethingmybrotherswouldpullonmeforsure.
ButtheonlythingIgetismoresilence.
Thisisnotadrill,notajoke.Thisisafuckingnightmare.
“No,thanks.I’lltakethatguy.”Ipointattheotherdude.Theonewhocan’tevenlookmeintheeye.He’llbeperfectformetopretendhedoesn’texist.Nottheuptightball-busterwhostaresatmelikeI’madumbhick.
Kipsteepleshishandsagainandcrosseshislegs.“No.”
“No?”Isoundincredulous.“Ipayyou,nottheotherwayaround.”
“ThenfindsomeoneelsewhowillfixthisshitstormbetterthanIcan.It’sonlythefutureofyourfamilyfarmontheline.”
Heatslashesacrossmycheeks,barelyhiddenbythestubblethere.Andforonce,I’mspeechless.Utterlyspeechless.Myjawpopsunderthepressureofgrindingmyteethagainsteachother.
Milk.Takendownbyfuckingmilk.
Apieceofplainwhitepaperslidesinfrontofmefromacrossthetable.Nudepolishedfingernailstaponittwice.Prissy.“Writeyouraddresshere,please.”
“Myaddress?”Mygazeshootsuptomeethers.
“Yes.Theplacewhereyoulive.”Iswearhercheektwitches.It’sfuckingrude.
MyheadswivelstoKip.“WhyamIgivingthisgirlmyaddressagain?”
Hesmilesandreachesforwardtoclapmeontheshoulder.“You’renotPeterPan,Rhett.Youwon’tbelosingyourshadow.Notforthenexttwomonths.”
Mymindreels.Hecan’tmean…
“Whereyougo,shegoes.”
Kipgivesmeavicioussmile,nottheonehegavemewhenIwalkedintheroom.No,thisoneisfullofwarning.“AndEaton,thatgirlismydaughter.Myprincess.So,mindyourgoddamnmanners,keepyourhandstoyourself,andstaythehelloutoftrouble,yeah?”
Thesnarkyprincessissupposedtoliveattheranchwithme?GoodGod,thisissomuchworsethanIimagined.
Myweekendhasbeenonadownhillspiraleversincethatfuckingvideo,andwhenIstormoutoftheshinyoffice,itdoesn’tgetanybetterbecauseIforgottoplugthemeteronthatgreatparkingspotIgot.3
Summer
Summer:Headingouttherenow.
Dad:Besafe.Don’tletthatassholeinyourpants.
Summer:I’mreallymoreofaskirtgal.
Dad:-_-
***
“Okay,wait.Howlongareyougoingtobegone?”
“Imean,I’mnotgone,Wils.I’mlikeanhouroutsideofthecity.Thedrivetoyourbarnisn’tthatmuchlessfromwhereyoulive.”
“Ineednoticeforthingslikethis.WhoamIsupposedtogoforboozybruncheswith?WhatifIfindawholenewbestfriendwhileyou’regone?”
Ilaughatthat.Mybestfriendhasaflairforthedramatic.It’spartofhercharm.“ThenIguessyouneverreallylovedme,”Ireplywistfully.
“Thisistheworstnews.Formeanyway.You’reprobablyallgiddyandwetinthepanties.Rememberthatphotoyou—”
“Willa,please.Thatwasalongtimeago.I’manadult.I’maprofessional.Hotathletesaremyjobeveryday.Don’tmakethisweirdforme.”
Shegroans.“Whydoyouhavetobesoresponsible?Andmature?Itmakesmefeellikeachild.”
“You’renotachild.Possiblymorelikeateenager?”Ipeeraround,tryingtomakesureIcatchtherightturnbecausethedustybackroadsaren’tthemostwell-marked.ButIseetherangeroadsignupaheadandturnjustintime,tireswobblingonthegravel.
“IguessIcanlivewiththat.Growingupistheworst.It’sjustnotforme,youknow?”
Ilaughatthat.Willaisplentygrownup.She’sjustplayful.She’sfun.She’sgoodforme.“Yourunatightshipwithalltheguysatthebar.Ithinkyou’remoregrownupthanyourealize.”
“Takethatback!”Shelaughsbeforeadding,“Andbangthecowboy.Doit.”
Willahasalwaysbeentheonetoloosenmeup,theonetopickmeupwhenI’mdown,theonetorubmybackwhenIcriedoverRob.
Butsometimesshe’salsowrong.
“Youwantmetoruinmybuddingcareertosleepwithmyteenagedcelebritycrush,whobyallappearanceshatesmyguts?Thanks.I’lltakethatunderadvisement.”
“That’sallI’masking,yaknow?”Wechuckletogether,likewehaveforthepastfifteenyears.Idon’thavealotoffriends.ButI’dratherhaveoneWillathananentirepackofpeoplewhodon’ttrulygetme.
Icatchsightofadrivewayupaheadandslowtoreadthenumbersonthefence.“Igottago.I’lltextlater.”
“Youbetter.Loveyou.”
“Loveyouback,”IsayabsentlybeforesighingwithreliefthatthenumbersareamatchforwhatRhettwroteonthepieceofpaper.IclickoffmyBluetoothandturnintothedriveway,readytofacewhatevermessI’vebeenropedintobymyfather.
Theraw-postfencesthatlinethepropertyushermeinthroughthemaingatewherethosepostsrisehighabovethedriveway.Thebeamthatcrossesoverthetopisadornedwithawroughtironsignintheshapeofawishingwell.Andattachedbytwonarrowchains,danglingbeneath,isaslabofwoodwiththewordsWishingWellRanchbrandedintoit.
ThelandaroundChestnutSpringsistrulysomethingtobehold.IfeellikeI’vebeentransportedontothesetofYellowstone.AndI’mdownrightgiddyaboutit.Goodbyestuffyoffice,helloendlessland.
DoesRhettEatonlookatmelikeI’mroadkill?
Yes.
ButamIexcitedaboutgettingoutoftheofficeanddoingsomethingdifferent?
Also,yes.
I’mgoingtoenjoythehelloutofthis.I’mgoingtotakethebullbythehornsonthisassignment.IchuckleatmyjokeasIreachforwardandturndownthevolumeonTheSadiesalbumIhadblastingbeforeWillacalledme.
IpeeraroundandslowmySUVtoacrawl.Myheadisonaswivelasthegravelcrunchesandpopsbeneathmytires.Isweartheviewouteverywindowisbetterthanthelast.MarchinSouthernAlbertastillhassomebite.Itcanbecoldandsnowy,butthenachinookcanrollin,andtheairgrowswarmandsoftagainstyourskin.Thegrassisn’tlushyet.It’sjustfieldsuponfieldsofthismossybrowncolor.Likeyoucanseethegreenlurkingbeneath,readytopop.Butnotquiteyet.
Fornow,there’ssomethingmonotoneaboutthegentlyrollingfieldsthatblendupintothegraypeakstothewest.TheRockyMountainsprovideabordertothefoothills,juttingupalljaggedandsnow-cappedwithpristinewhitepeaks.
I’vespentyearsgazingoutthewindowsofmydad’s30thfloorwindows,wishingIwasoutthere.Imaginingspendingmysummersexploringthemountainsandtherusticsmalltownsthatlaybetweenthem,butbeingtrappedinsidehisglossyofficeinstead.Or,ifIthinkevenfurtherback,stuckinsideapalegreenroomwithoutenoughenergytogetoutofbed.
IsthisworkassignmentridiculoustothepointwhereIhadahardtimekeepingastraightfacethroughthatmeeting?
Absolutely.
ButI’mgoingtomakethemostofit.Ifnothingelse,I’llgettostareatthemountainswiththewindinmyfaceratherthanthesmellofburnedcoffeeandthosestalecroissantsthatMarthasetsouteverymorning.Oraroomthatreeksofantisepticandantibacteriallaundrysoap.Thekindthat’ssupposedtobescent-free,butwhenyouspendenoughtimewrappedupinit,yourealizeit’sreallynot.
Thelongdrivewaystretchesaheadofmeuntilitdisappearsintoacopseofcloselyplanted,butleaflesspoplartrees.Theoutlineofalargehousepeeksfrombetweentheirbranches.
Ipullthrough,takingintheimpressivehomebeforeme.Thicklogsprovidetheframeforahousethatiscurvedinaslightcrescentshape,wrappingintotreesandflowingwiththelinesofthehillsbehinditsomehow.It’sexpansivewithmassivewindows.Thebottomretainingwallofthehouseiscoveredinastonefacadethatswapsintosomesortofvinylsidinginasoftsagecolor.Itcontrastsperfectlyagainstthewarmstainedtimberandcedarshakeroof.
ThehouseswhereIgrewupwerealmostatwarwiththelandscape.Fightingitwiththeirsharpcornersandharshtones.Thishouse—bigasitis—almostlookslikeitsproutedupfromtheground.Likeit’sjustpartofthescenery,inperfectharmony.
Itlookslikeitbelongshere.
Unlikeme.
IglancedownatmyoutfitasIstepoutofmyparkedcar.Ablacksweater-materialskirt,silkytartanbutton-down,andapairofbrownheeledloaferswithaprettybroguetoeareprobablyaridiculouschoiceforthesetting.
Eventhoughthisoutfitslays.
I’vegrownsoaccustomedtogettingdressedupeveryday,andItakesomuchpleasureinchoosingpiecesthatmakemefeelmoreconfident,thatIdidn’tevenconsiderhowhilariousImightlookpullingupwearingwhatI’mwearing.
Butactually,IknownothingaboutwhatI’msupposedtobedoing.WhenRhettscribbledhisaddressonthepieceofpaper,hepressedthepensohardthatitindentedthepagesbeneath.
Andthenhestormedoutwithoutanotherword.
Asmileteasedmydad’slipsasweallsatstaringatRhettEaton’sbroadshouldersandlonghair.Butdefinitelynothisass.
I’maprofessional,afterall.
“Offtoagoodstart,”mydadjokedonceRhettwasoutofearshot.
So,thatwastheextentofmyinstructions.Anaddress.Thatand,“Fixthis,Summer.Ibelieveinyou.”
Oh,and,“Don’tletthatfuckercharmhiswayintoyourbed.”
Ismiledandsaid,“Whatabouthisbed?”
“You’llbethedeathofme,girl,”hegroanedashewaltzedoutoftheboardroom,lookingliketheCheshireCat.
Andthatwasthat.Fulltrustthatthrowingmeintothelifeofmychildhoodcrushwillbejustfine.Thoughheprobablydoesn’tevenrememberthat.
Iknowthatthisisatest.Trialbyfire.IfIcanknockthisassignmentoutofthepark,I’llimpressmyfather,butI’llalsoproveI’mcapabletoeveryoneelseatthecompany.SomethingheandIbothknowIneedtodoifIplantomoveuptheranksatHamiltonElite.Ifhiringmeisn’tgoingtoseemlikepurenepotism,thenIneedtobefantasticatwhatIdo.
It’snotaneasyassignment,butnothinginmylifehasbeeneasy,somaybeitdoesn’tseemasdauntingasitshould.
“Youthebabysitter?”
Myheadwhipsaroundtothefrontporchofthesprawlinghouse,followingthedeepgravellyvoice.Anoldermanwithsilverhairleansagainstthebiglogpillarwithhisarmscrossedoverhischestandasmirkplasteredonhisface.Awell-wornblackcowboyhatsitsatophishead,andittipsdowningreetingasheswallowsachuckle.
“BeenawhilesinceIwelcomedababysitteruptothehouseforanyofmyboys.”
Ilaughoutabreathandletmyshouldersdrop,immediatelyateasearoundtheman.RhettmaylookatmelikeI’mabugonhiswindshield,butthismanisjustplaincharming.
IgrinathimasIpressmyfistsintomyhips.“BeenawhilesinceIbabysatsomeone.”
“Ireckonyou’dhaveaneasiertimewitheventhemostpoorlybehavedchild,”hesaysashestridestowardme.
Itakeawildstabatwhothismanmightbe.“Isupposethreateningtotellhisdadisn’tgoingtohelpmeany,huh?”
Themansmilesback,weatheredskincrinklingaroundhiseyes,andshootshishandoutinmydirection.“ThathellionhasnevergivenashitwhatIhavetosay.”Hewinks,andItakehispalminafirmhandshake.“HarveyEaton,Rhett’sfather.Pleasuretomeetyou.WelcometoWishingWellRanch.”
“SummerHamilton.Nicetomeetyoutoo.Wasn’tsurewhattoexpectwhenIpulledup.I’mnotsureRhettandIgotoffonthebestfootyesterday,”Iconfess.
HarveywavesmeasidewhenIpressthebuttontoopenmybackhatchandreachespastmetoretrievemysuitcase.“Well,I’vegotaroommadeupforyouhereinthemainhouse.YoucanexpectRhetttosulklikealittleboywho’sgottenhisfavoritetoytakenaway.Andwhenhisbrothersfindout,Iexpecthimtobedownrightfoulbecausetheyaregoingtoharasshimsomethingfierce.”
Igrimace.“Luckyme.”
Harveysnortsandwavesmealongbehindhimtowardthehouse.“Nottoworry,MissHamilton.They’regoodboys.Alittlerougharoundtheedges,butgoodboysnonetheless.”Hepeeksoverhisshoulderatmewithanamusedtwisttohislips.“Plus,somethingtellsmeyou’llbeholdingyourownjustfinewiththiscrew.”
Ipressmylipstogether.IfIcanmakeittomyagewithKipHamiltonasmyfatherandboss,somethingtellsmeacoupleofcowboyswillbeacakewalk—butIdon’tsaythat.I’drathernotjinxthings.Instead,Ireplywith,“Please,callmeSummer.”
Heholdsthefrontdooropenandgesturesonearmwide.“Comeonin,Summer.Let’sgetyousettledandfedbeforeyoufacethelittlemonster.”
IshakemyheadandchuckleasImoveintothehouse.Clearly,myassessmentofRhettwasn’ttoofaroff.Oratleasthisdadisn’tmakingmefeellikeI’minforaneasytime.Aboulderofdoubtdropsintomystomach,anxietyseepingoutthroughmybody.WhatifI’mnotuptothis?WhatifIfail?WillIalwaysbetheonewhocan’tgetthingsquiteright?
MyinternalmonologuemeltsawayasItakeinthehousebeforeme.Thewarmwoodthemefromtheexteriorcarriesoninside.Woodbeamceilingsanddarkgreenwallsgivethespaceacozyvibedespitetheloftyopenareas.Thefloorsaredarkhardwood,thewideplanksslightlyworninheavytrafficareas.AndasIwatchHarveymarchinwithhisbootson,IthinkIcanguesswhy.
Tomyleft,Icanseethelivingroomwithoverstuffedleathercouchesfacinganenormousfireplace.Somesortofdeerheadwithblackmarbleeyesthatsparkleenoughtolookrealandantlersthatreachhighaboveitlikethick,ornatebranches,hangsaboveit.
Mylipstugdownintoasmallfrown.Ihavenoproblemwithhunting,notthetypeofhuntingthat’sdoneresponsiblyanyway,butI’msuchacitygirlthatthesightofthismajesticanimalhangingupinthehousemakesmealittlesadaboutthedeerandwhateverendhemighthavefaced.
Let’sbehonest.I’mthinkingaboutBambi
Ishakethethoughtawayandtellmyselftobuckup.Buckup?God.Whatiswrongwithme?
Beforeusisthegigantickitchenwithalargewoodtablesmackdabinthemiddleofit,andIcanalreadyimagineallthesecowboy-typeguysrollinginhereafteralongdayontheranchtoshareabigfamily-stylemeal.
“Downhere,”Harvey’svoicepullsmeaway,andweturnrightdownahallwaylitbybrasssconcesonthewalls.“Iknowthisroomisonthemainfloor.We’lltrytokeepitdowninthemornings.RhettandIhaveroomsupstairs,soIthoughtthismightgiveyoualittlemorespaceawayfromusmen.Ithasanadjoiningbathroom.Theclosetisthebiggestinhere,too.”
Hedoesonepullupwithmysuitcase.Myvery,veryfullsuitcase.“ThinkingImadetherightchoicewiththat.”
Mycheekspinkabit.ImustseemlikearealcitygirltoamanlikeHarveyEaton.“Iwasn’tsurewhattoexpectwiththisassignment.”
Hechucklesgood-naturedly.“Expectarodeo,girl.Ilovemyboy.Buthe’sahandful.Hasalwaysbeenone.Cometothinkofit,I’mnotsureanyonehasevertrulyhandledRhettatall.Youngestboyandallthat.Evenhisbabysisterendedupbeingthemorematureofthetwo.Theonewholookedoutforhim—becauseRhettneedslookingoutfor.Myadvice?Don’tpushtoohard.He’lljustpushback.”
Inod,alittlewide-eyed.He’smakingRhettsounddownrightinsane.“Sageadvice,Mr.Eaton.”
Hedropsmysuitcasejustinsidethedoorofaroomattheveryendofthehall.“Girl,ifI’mcallingyouSummer,you’recallingmeHarvey.Wegotit?”
IsmileathimasIentertheroom.“Gotit.”
“Good.”Hestepsbackoutintothehall.“Takeyourtimegettingsettled.I’llbeinthekitchenwhenyou’reready.Wecaneat,andI’llshowyouaround.”
“That’sperfect.”IgivehimthebrightestsmileIcanmusterbeforeheamblesbackdownthehallway.
WhenIclosethedoorbehindhim,Irestmyheadagainstthecoolwoodandsuckinadeepbreathtochaseawaytheanxiety.
AndthenIprayforpatiencebecausesomethingtellsmeI’mgoingtoneedit4
Rhett
Rhett:Wantyourdaughterbackyet?IpromiseI’llbegood.
Kip:She’snoteventhereyet.
Rhett:Thinkofallthetimeyou’llsaveherbycallingherbacknow.
Kip:No.
Rhett:Please?
Kip:Don’ttrytobepolite.Itdoesn’tsuityou.
Rhett:Suckadick.
Kip:HowdoyouthinkI’mkeepingallyoursponsors?
***
SummerHamiltonpulledupinherfancySUVandridiculousprissyoutfitlikeshe’sgoingoutonthetownratherthanshowinguponacattleranch.
So,Imademyselfscarce.Imightbestuckwithher,butIdon’thavetolikeit.
AndIdon’t.Ifuckinghatebeingtreatedlikeachild,orlikeI’mstupid.Orworse,likeI’msomesortofcriminal.Ihadhopedthatsleepinginmyownbedandhavingsomeprocessingtimetocometotermswithmynewarrangementmightmakeitfeelalittlelessstifling—lessinsulting.
Butitstillfeelsliketrash.
WhichiswhyI’mherepoundingpostswithmyolderbrother.Settingnewfencelinesforsomeofhishorsestobeclosertohishouse,whichisjustoverthecrestofabighillfromwheremydadandIlive.Cadepullsapostoutofthebackofhispickupandheftsitoverhisshoulderwithagrunt.Helooksthemostlikeourdad,wideshouldersandtightlycuthair.Theonlythingmissingisamustache.SomethingIlovetoharasshimabout,especiallysincehe’sonegrowlymotherfucker.It’sjusttooeasy.
“Whenareyougoingtogrowoutthe‘stacheandgofullOldManEaton?”
Heglaresatmebeforehedropsthepostandlinesupthepointedendwiththespothewants.“Dunno.Whenyoucuttingyourhair,Rapunzel?”
Thisfeelsgood.Thisfeelsfamiliar.PissingCadeoffisoneofmyfavoritepast-times.Andhe’ssofuckinggrumblythatitneverstopsbeingsatisfying.He’sallbarkandnobite,oneofthenicestdudesIknow.
Ifyoucanoverlookwhataprickheis.
Ipullmycapoffandflickmyhairovermyshoulder,tryingnottowinceattheshotofpaininmyshoulder.Ortheswellinginmyknee.Ortheacheinmyback.
NevermindRapunzel,I’mmorelikeHumptyDumpty.
“Never.HowwillIpullaprincessthroughmywindow?”
HesnortsandgrabsthepostpounderwhileItakeoverholdingthepostupright.“Justoneprincess,brother?Hardlyseemslikeyou.”
Irollmyeyes.Cadeisthemonkinthisfamily.Idon’tthinkI’veseenhimwithasinglewomansincehisdivorce.
“I’mjusttryingtohaveenoughsexforthebothofus,”Ilie.Thatpartofmehaschanged.Itdoesn’tholdthesameappealtheselastcoupleseasons.Notlikeitusedto.Itbringsdrama,andI’vegrowntiredofhavingtospendtimewithpeoplewhoonlywantsomethingfrommeorwhoseemeassomesortoftrophy.
Cadereachesupandslapsthecapoffmyhead.“Douche.Yougoingtohelpdooneorjuststandtherelookingpretty?”
Istepawayandcrossmyarms.“Iampretty,aren’tI?Peoplekeeptellingmethat,”IdeflectbecauseIdon’twanttoconfessthatmybodyisfeelingutterlyrundown.AllthatwillgetmeisalectureabouthowIneedtoretire,howI’vestuckwithittoolong.
Theproblemis,I’maddicted.
RidingbullsisahighIcan’treplace.ArushIcan’tstopchasing.
“UncleRhett!”Thesmall,sugaryvoicemakesmesmile,andI’mgratefulforthedistraction.
Cadeglancesoverhisshoulder,browsdrawntogetherinconcern.
“Luke!What’sup,littleman?IthoughtyouwerewithMrs.Hill,”Isay.
Mynephewsmilesatme,exposinghislittleChicletteeth,amischievousexpressionovertakinghisface.“ItoldherIwantedtoplayhideandseek.”
“Okay…”
Lukepeeksathisdadfromaroundmybody,likeheknowshe’sabouttogetintrouble.Andthenheleansinclosetomeandholdsahandupnexttohismouth.“AndthenIranoverhereinstead.”
Hiseyesgowideashetakesinmyexpressionandthenhisdad’s,whoisprobablyscowlingbehindme.Itrynottolaugh.
ButIfail.Thiscracksmeup,andIbarkoutaloudlaugh.Thiskidrunsmybrotherintotheground.Hekeepshimlight—andGodknowsCadeneedsthat.
Thatsaid,we’reallabunchofsoftieswhereLukeisconcerned.Ourlittlesistermayhavelefttheranch,butwe’vegotLuketodoteonnow.
“Papaislookingforyou,”theboycontinues.
“Luke.”Cadewalksupfrombehindme.“AreyoutellingmeyouranawayfromyourbabysittertohelpPapafindRhett?Becausethatsoundsanawfullotlikenotmindingyourbusiness.”
Lukerollshislittlelipstogether,andIswearIcanseethegearsturninginhishead.Almostfive,smartashell,afull-ontroublemaker.Butstilltooyoungtorealizewhenhe’sblownit.
Heside-stepsthatquestion,wideninghiseyesstrategically.“Papacamelookingforyouathome.He’swithalady.”
IgroanbecauseIknowwhatthismeans.Lady.AmoreaptwordhasneverbeenusedtodescribeSummerHamilton.Myagent’sprincess.
Mybrother’seyesdarttomyface.“Lady?Didyoufinallyknocksomeoneup?”
Cadeissuchadick.“Forfu—”
“Whatdoesknocksomeoneupmean?”Webothstareblanklydownatthelittleboy,butbeforewecanrespond,mydadandSummershowupatthetopofthehill.
“Youmakingmeagranddaddyagain,Rhett?”Mydadchucklesashedrawsnear.Hehasnobusinesshearingthiswellforamanhisage.It’sannoyingthatnothinggetspasthim.
Ibracemyhandsonmyhipsandturnmyfaceupatthebluesky,blowingoutahotbreathandwatchingitturntosteamthatdancesupintotheair.
“Sorrytodisappoint,”ImutterasIturnbacktothem,tryingtoignoretheconfusedscowlonCade’sface.That’sbasicallyhisrangeoflooks:happyscowl,tiredscowl…Iimagineheevenhassomesortofhornyscowlthathe’shiddenawayforthepastseveralyears.
“Summerishere,Rhett,”mydadstarts,withalookthatsaysIbetterbehavemyself.I’vebeenseeingthatlookmyentirelife.“Youdidn’tmentionhowdelightfulsheis.Didyouknowshejustfinishedlawschool?”
Mybrowspopup.I’mnotaboveadmittingthat’salittlebitimpressive.Butit’salsoworsesomehow.She’sprissy,smart,accomplished,andassignedtobabysitme.
Andalsoinsanelybeautiful.She’schangedintojeans,andI’mtryinglikehellnottoeyethewaytheyhugherpint-sizedframe.
Withafewsurestrides,mybrotherclosesthespacebetweenhimselfandSummer,stretchingonelong,muscledarmoutinherdirection.“CadeEaton.”Hisvoiceisbrusque,butIknowhe’snotshakingherhandashardasheusuallydoes.Shehasadelicateairabouther,andCademaybeagrumpyasshole,buthe’salsoagentleman.
“SummerHamilton.”Shesmiles,anditstillbordersonasmirk.Likeshe’samusedbythiswholething.Whenshe’salone,Ibetshehasanice,long,rich-girllaughatmyexpense.
“Andsorry,howdoyouknowRhett?”Cade’sscowlisnowcurious.
Hereitis,themomenteveryonehasabiglaughatmyexpense.Mydadalreadyknows,butasmuchashejokesaround,Idon’tthinkhe’dthrowmeunderthebus.WebothknowmydickheadbrothersaregoingtogetarealkickoutofBabyBrotherbeingintrouble.Again.
He’lljustsitbackandenjoywatchingitallunfold.
ButSummerdoesn’tmissabeat.“I’manewjunioragentwithhisfirm.Justtryingtolearntheropeswithsomeoneestablished.”Hersmileissoftanddemure—sincere.
Andshe’slyingthroughhergoddamnteeth.
Thegirlisgood.I’llgiveherthat.
Mybrother’sbrowstugtogether,andmydad’seyestwinkleashewatchestheexchange.Iholdmybreath,hopingthat’sallthereistoit.Maybe,justmaybe,I’llgetawaywiththiswithoutbeingcompletelyembarrassed.
Cade’sheadquirks.“Butwhyareyouhe—”
“I’mhungry,”Lukeannounces.
“Betyouare,”Summerreplies.“What’syourfavoritesnack?”
Instantredirection.Mydadcatchesmyeyeandwinks.
“Popcorn!”Whydokidsalwaysexclaimeverything?Likethey’regoingtowinsomesortofprizeforshoutingitoutfirst.
Summerquirksahipandcrossesherarms,likeshe’sweighingthechild’sresponse.“WithM&M’smixedin?”
“Oooh!”Lukeexclaimsastherestofusmenwrinkleournoses.“I’veneverhadthat!”
“No?”Hereyesflaredramaticallyasshecrouchesdown.
“Whatareemnems?”Lukeasks,admittinghehasn’tgotafuckingcluewhatshe’stalkingabout.Theexchangeiscute,andmyeyessnaptomybrother,wonderingifhe’sfallinginlovewithSummerHamiltononthespot.Buthejustseemsperplexed.
“They’reacandy.Withchocolate.Andpeanuts.Isawstoresonmywayherethatwouldhavethemforsure.Ibetyourdadwouldtakeyoutogetsome.”
Andjustlikethat,Cadelookscolossallyannoyed.
“Canwe,Dad?”Luke’sbigblueeyeslightup.
“AfteryouranawayfrompooroldMrs.Hill?”Cade’sjawpops,andheshootsSummeradisapprovingglare.Somewomenwouldshrinkunderthatscowl,butnotthisone.
Sheshrugsandmouths,“Sorry,”lookingalittlechagrinedastheyturntowardtheirhousetoleave.Butwhensheglancesoverhershoulderatme,thatsmugsmirktoucheshermouth.
Andthat’sthemomentIrealizeshewasn’tchagrinedatall.Thatentireexchangewasacompletelyintentionalwayofcuttingoffmybrother’slineofquestioning.
Tohelpmesaveface.
“I’llgogiveCadeahandwithLuke,”mydadsays,droppinghisheaddowntohidewhatIknowhastobeagrinunderthebrimofhiscowboyhat.
WhichmeansSummerandIarehereonthetopofthedry,scrubbyknoll,allalonefortheveryfirsttime.Butshedoesn’tgivemeanyattention.ShejuststandsgazingoutoverthehillstowardthepeaksoftheRockies.
She’ssostillthatforafewmomentsIcan’thelpbutwatchher.Thecoolwindwhistlesthroughthebarebranchesofthesparsetrees.There’sasolidnipintheair,andwhenitgusts,hershoulderscomeuptightunderherears,thepuffydowncoatrubbingagainstherearringsasthebreezetosseshersilkybrownhairaroundbehindher.
Andthenshesighs,deepandheavy,andIwatchhershouldersslowlydrop,entrancedbyherreaction.Whenmyeyestracklower,Ishakemyhead.Ihavetorememberthatevenifshethrowsmeabone,sheandIarenotfriends.
We’renotevenonthesameteam.
“Usingafive-year-oldboytogetyourway.Isthatanewlow?”
Shehuffsoutalaughandshovesherhandsintoherbackpocketsbeforeturningaroundtofaceme,allwideeyes.“Ididn’tusehim.Ienlightenedhim.Mixingcandywithyourpopcornisalifeexperiencethateverychilddeserves.”
“Cadeisgoingtohateyouforthat.”
Herlipspresstogether,andsheshrugs,seemingtrulyunaffectedbytheprospect.“IguessI’llhavetohopeBrotherNumberThreelikesme.OrmaybeI’llgoforthetrifecta?Getyoualltohateme?Thatmightbeniceforme.”
Theballsonthisgirl.
“Youcouldhavetoldthetruth.”
“Idid.”
Myteethgrind.“Learningtheropes?Webothknowyou’reheretobabysitme.”
Herheadtilts,andshestaresatmeinthemostunnervingway.“Iguessweallseethingsthewaywewantto.Iamnewatthefirm.Theyonlyrecentlyhiredmeasmorethanasummerintern.Andyouareestablished.AndI’dbeanidiottothinkI’mnotheretolearnsomething.OrKipwouldhavesentsomeonewithmoreexperience,no?”
Thenshewalksbacktowardthemainhouse.
“Whydidn’tyoujustthrowmeunderthebusthen?They’regoingtofigureitout,eventually.”
“Becausethat’snotmyjob.Keepup,weneedtogooversomethings.”
Ihangbackforafewminutes,becausewhenSummerHamiltontellsmetojump,Irefusetorespondwith,Howhigh?5
Summer
Dad:How’sitgoing?
Summer:It’sbeautifulouthere.
Dad:Imeantthecowboy.
Summer:Oh,him?Hehatesme.
Dad:You’llwinhimover.Justmakesurehekeepshisdickinhispants.
Summer:I’llpassthemessagealong.Asurewaytowinhimover!
***
Menaresofragile.
ItoldRhetttokeepup,andI’malmostpositivehestoodinthatfieldsulkingjusttoproveapoint.It’skindofamusing.MylipstwitchasIsetupmyfilesandlaptoponthelivingroomtable.
Weneedtohammeroutascheduleforthecomingmonths,andI’mgoingtoneedRodeoKingheretodothat.
Eventually,Ihearthebackdoorslamandheavyfootfallstravelinginmydirection.Outofthecornerofmyeye,Icatchsightofhisframe.Hisbroadshoulders,hisunrulyhair,anddarkscruff.You’dhavetobedeadtonotappreciateamanlikeRhettEaton.
He’snotprettyandpolished.He’sruggedandalittlerougharoundtheedges.
He’sallman.
OnehundredpercentdifferentfromanymanI’vemet.Girlslikemedon’tusuallymixwithmenlikehim.Wedon’tevenmixinthesamecircles,butthatdoesn’tstopmefromappreciatinghim.ThewayapairofWranglersfithimhasn’tchangedsincehisearlydaysonthecircuit.
“Iwasworriedabearhadattackedyou,”IannounceasIseatmyselfononeofthetuftedleatherclubchairs.
“Blackbearsrarelyattackpeople,”hehusksashestridesintothelivingroom,eyeingupmyspreadlikeitmightbeanexplosiveorsomething.
“Grizzlies?”
“Mostlysticktothemountains,”hegrumbles.
“Okay.Cougar?”
Hetowersabovemeandquirksabrow.
“Yeah,”Isighandleanbackinthecomfychair,sensingthepressureofhishoneyedstareonmybody.“Youdefinitelylooklikecougarbait.”
HeshakeshisheadwhileIbitebackagrin.“Thisisgoingtobealongtwomonths.”
“YoucouldalwaysthrowyourselfdownthatwellIsawonmywaybacktothehouseandputyourselfrightoutofthismisery.”
Thatcommentsobershimandinsteadofrespondingwithsomethingflippant,heflopsdownonthecouchacrossfrommeandrunshishandsthroughhishair.ThesilencestretchesbetweenusasIregardhimcarefully.“Mymomusedtomakewishesdownthatwellwithmybrothersandme.Don’trememberitatall.”
Fuuucckkk.Talkaboutsteppinginit,Summer.Thesinkingfeelinginmychesthasmeclearingmythroatnoisily.“I’msorry,”Isay.BecauseIreallyam.
Hejustnods,andIopttochangethesubject.Puttheconversationbackonthesafegroundthatiswork.OurarrangementthathehatessomuchispreferabletowhereIjusttookthings.“TellmewhatthenexttwomonthslookedlikeforyoubeforeIcameontothescene.”
“YoumeanbeforeIgotsaddledwithyou?Itlookedprettygreat.”
Ijustnodandsayaquiet,“Yeehaw,”asItwirlmyfingeraroundbesidemyheadlikeI’mswingingalasso.Becauseit’snotlikehe’smakingthisfun.He’sactinglikeI’msomesortofenemywhenI’mactuallyjustheretomakehislifeeasier.
Ireachforthedaytimerinfrontofme,grabmyfavoritesilverpen,andproceedtostareathimuntilhetalks.Ilistenandnotespecificdatesashereadsthemoffhisphonewhilecompletelyavoidingeyecontactwithme.
Weexchangephonenumbersandemailaddresses,andImakeclearthathe’stobehavelikeagoodlittleboythatnoonecanfindfaultinforthenexteightweeks.
Idon’tgettoospecific,becauseI’mhopinghe’spickingupwhatI’mputtingdownasIspeakinvaguegeneralitiesabouthisbehavior—thatLittleRhettneedstostayinhispants.Becausehavingtodictateaman’ssexualactivitiesisjustwaybeyondmypaygrade.Kipcancallhimandbreakthosedetailsdownhimself.RhettandIaregoingtoneedtomaintainsomesemblanceofdignityifwe’respendingthenexttwomonthsstucktogether.
Rhettrespondsingruntsandstaresupattheceilinglikehewishesitwouldopenupandswallowhimwhole.Andquitefrankly,Ican’tblamehim.
“Okay.”Itapmyfingersontheopenpagebeforeme.“So,wehavethreequalifyingevents.PineRiveristhefirst,thenBlackwoodCreek,thentheonehereinCalgary.That’skindofnice.Hastherealwaysbeenastophereonyourtour?”
“Yup.”
“Norestforthewicked,huh?Theybangtheseoutback-to-back.”
Hesighsandfinallyholdsmygazeforamoment.“TheWorldBullRidingFederation,orWBRF,isascompetitiveasitgets.IfIwasn’tsittingcomfortablyaheadandwaschasingpointsinstead,I’dprobablybedoingtwomorebeforeVegas.Weusuallygoeveryweekend.”
“Right.WorldFinalsinVegas.”Istaredownatthedateonthecalendar.That’sthedayI’llbefreeofthisassignmentandthisgrumpycowboy.
“Championships,notfinals.Doyouevenknowanythingaboutthissport?”
IdrawastaronthatcalendarsquareandsighwistfullybeforetippingmyfacebackuptoglareatRhett,whoissittingacrossfromme,takingupthemaximumamountofspaceonthecouch.Longarmdrapedoverthebackofitandjean-cladlegsspreadwide.
Manspreading.
“No.JustwhatI’vesearchedontheinternet.ButIbetyou’dlovetotellmeallaboutit.”
Heglaresbacklikehe’stryingtofigureouthowhislifeturnedintothis,andthenheasks,“Whydoyouneedtogotolawschooltobecomeanagent?”
“Youdon’t.Well,notreally.Butit’salotofcontractwork,soitdefinitelyhelps.”
“Huh,”isallhesayswhilespinningthesilverringonhisfinger.“That’salotofschool.Youmustloveit.”
Igivehimaflatsmile.I’mnotsureI’dtakeitthatfar,butI’mnotabouttotellaclientthat.“Yeah.Canyouexplainthescoring?SoIunderstandwhatI’mwatchingnextweekend?”
Heeyesmeasuspiciouslyandthenhestarts.“So,you’vegottwojudges.Eachjudgegivestheriderascoreoutoftwenty-fiveandthebulloutoftwenty-five.Addthemupandyougetanoverallscoreoutofonehundred.”
“Andwhataretheyjudgingon?”MyhopeisthatifIcangethimtalkingaboutsomethinghelikes,he’llwarmupabit.
“Severalthings.Theiragility,speed,whethertheyturn.Youpullabullthatrunsdownthearenainastraightlineandyouaren’tgoingtogetgoodstylepoints.Butyoupullonethatwantstokillyouandwillspininacircleandtosshishoovestotheroof?Thenyou’retalking.”RhettismoreanimatedthanI’veeverseenhimasheexplainsthesport.Hisexcitementisalmostinfectious.
“Nowtheriderismoreabouthisform.Hisbalance.Hiscontrol.”Heshowsmehowthatlooksbymovinghishandsintotheposition.“Thewayhecoversthebull.Ifyoucanspur‘em,theybuckharderandthereareextrapointsforthat.Andofcourse,you’vegottahangonforeightwholeseconds.”
“Andifyoudon’t?”
Heclickshistongueandtiltshishead.“Noscorethen.”
Iblowoutabreathandtapmypenagainstthetable.“Doordie,huh?Ican’twaittoseeitlive.”
Heeyesmeupanddownnow,likehecan’tquitefiguremeout.“Yeah,”—histonguepushesintohischeek—“that’llreallybesomething.”
Idon’tknowwhatthehellacommentlikethatissupposedtomean,soIjustforgeahead.“I’llbookourflightsandhotelsforthesedates.Flyinonedayearlyandleaveonedayafter?”
“Separaterooms.”
Irollmyeyes.
Andtheregoesallthatpositivemomentum.Thisguyhassomeseriousnerve.Itmakesallmyprofessionalismflyoutthewindow.“Noshit.”
“Justtryingtokeepthelineclear,Princess.”He’smockingme,butIdon’tbite.EventhoughIwishwitheveryfiberofmybeingthatKipwouldstopcallingmethat—especiallyinfrontofotherpeople.“Yourdadmadeitseemlikeyouweregoingtoputmeonaleash.”
“Onlyifyou’reintothatkindofthing.”ThewordsareoutbeforeIevencomprehendwhatI’msaying.Myheadsnapsuptogaugehisreaction.I’msoaccustomedtomyfather’sbitingcommentaryalongwitheveryoneelseintheofficethatit’sacomfortableroletofallinto—evenwithsomeoneasun-funasRhettEaton.
He’sglaringatmewithhismostunimpressedexpressionwhenthebackdoorbangsopenagain,interruptingourexchange.
LukefliesintothehouselikeabatoutofhellandlauncheshimselfintoRhett’slap,followedbymoreheavyfeetanddeepvoices.Cadestepsintothekitchenfirst,followedbyhisdad,andthenamanwhohastobethethirdbrother.
He’sadeadringerforeveryothermaninthisfamily—excepthesmileslikehisdadandhiseyesarelight.
“YoumustbeSummer,”hesays,grinningatmeappreciativelyasheleansupagainstthedoorframe.Hishairistrimmedtightandthere’sapolishabouthimthatRhettandCadedon’thave.
“ThisisBeau,”Harveypipesup,pullingaseatoutattheoversizedtable.“Youcaughthimhomebetweendeployments.”Ican’thelpbutsmilebackattheolderman.Hisprideisspillingoutofhimalloverthefloor.
HarveyEatonloveshisboyswithafiercenessIadmire.
“Nicetomeetyou,Beau.I’mSummerHamilton.”Ismilesoftly,alreadylovingthefamilyatmospherehereinthecozyhouse.Evenifitistestosteroneoverload.
“Youallfinishedwithyourmeeting?”HarveyasksasCadestartsdiggingthroughthefridgeandpullingoutingredientsfordinner.
“Yes,”RhettannouncesbeforeIcansayanything.
Istand,feelingsufficientlydismissedbyRhett’scooltone.“I’llgetoutofyourhair.”
“Whereyougoing,lady?”Lukeasks.“It’sdinnertime.Ithoughtyoulivedherenow?IheardGrandpasayit.”
IsuckinadeepbreathandglancedownatRhett,whoseeyeshavedroppedshut,asmallsmileplayingacrosshisfeatures.
Itlooksgoodonhim.
“Youliveherenow?”Cade’sheadsnapsup,hisfaceinwhatseemstobehisfavoriteexpression—bitchy.
“Um.Justforawhile.”MygazesettlesonHarvey,whoshakeshisheadandlooksdownlikeheknowswhat’scoming.
“Hangon.”Beau’sheadisswivelingbetweenRhettandme,amusementdancingoneveryfeature.“Youragentislivingwithyou?Why?”
“It’sverytemporary—”Istart.
“Isthisbecauseyoupunchedthatguy?”Beaucontinues,intelligenteyesworkingthroughthingssoplainly.
“Youpunchedsomeone?”Cadeasks,browsknittingtogether.
“Bro.YouneedtoturnaTVonnowandthen.Youliveinthedarkages.”Beaulaughs.
CadeturnstoRhett,whostillhasn’topenedhiseyes.“Didhedeserveit?”
Rhettsmilesnow,arealbigsmile.“Sofuckingmuch.”
“Badword,UncleRhett!”Luke’shandsslapdownoverhisearswithashit-eatinglittlegrin.
Myeyesbouncebetweeneveryoneintheroom,livingforthelevelofcomforthere.It’samusing.It’scharming.It’ssodifferentfromhowmychildhoodhomefelt.
“He’sinatightspotwithhissponsors,that’sall,”Iclarify.
Cadegruntsashechopscarrots.“Whenishenotintrouble?”
“Wait.”Beau’sfacebrightens.“Didyougetassignedababysitter?”
Rhettgroansanddropshisheadbackagainstthecouch.
“Idon’tlikemybabysittereither,UncleRhett.”Lukepatshimlikeadogandalaughbubblesupoutofme.BecauseRhettcalledthis.Harveycalledthis.Theyknewexactlyhowitwasgoingtogodown,andthatleveloffamiliarityisheartwarmingtome.It’schaoticinherealready,andIloveit.I’mstarry-eyedandgiddy.
“Mindyourmanners,LucasEaton,”Cadesayswhilepullingapanoutfromunderthestove.“Answerthequestion,Rhett.”
RhettglancesoveratBeauandsays,“Youcancontactmyagentforacomment.”
Beaubarksoutalaughandlooksoveratme,handsheldupinprayerposition.“Please,Summer.Makemyday.Tellmehe’sintimeout.Tellmehe’sathirty-two-year-oldmanwithafull-timenanny.”
Ipressmylipstogether,dedicatedtonotthrowingRhettunderthebus—nomatterhowbadlyI’dliketo.“I’mnewatthefirm.ThisjobissothatIcangetsomeexperienceundermybeltoutsideoftheoffice.”
“Yeah.Shetoldmethattoo,”Cadeinterjectsasheseasonsasizeablechunkofbeefnow.“IthinkMissHamiltonmightbefullofshitthough.”
“Mindyourmanners,Daddy!”Lukeshouts,rightasHarveyscoldshim,“Cade!”
Irubahandovermymouthtocovermysmile.YougrowuparoundKipHamiltonandafewbadwordsaren’tgoingtophaseyou.
“I’llgograbdinnerintown,leaveyoualltoit.Idon’twanttobeanuisance.”
Beauholdsupahandtostopme.“Notachance,Summer.You’regoingtotakeaseatandtelluseverythingoverCade’sfamouspotroast.ThenI’mgoingtotakeusallfordrinksintownatTheRailspursoyoucangetawarmChestnutSpringswelcomeandmeetmybuddy,Jasper.”
“Jasperishome?”Harvey’sheadsnapsupfromwherehewaswatchinghisgrandsonwithanamusedexpressiononhisface.
Andjustlikethat,I’msuckedintoadinnerofheartyhome-cookedfood,friendlytaunting,andcomfortablelaughter.
EvenRhettlightensupnowthatit’snotjustus,buthestillavoidslookingatmethroughoutthemeal.6
Summer
Willa:Imissyourfacealready.HavefunplayingHellonWheels?
Summer:What?
Willa:Yourcowboy.Ilookedhimup.HelookslikethehotguyfromHellonWheels.Youknow,theonewiththelonghair?Didyouknowtheyfilmedthatshowoutthere?
Willa:Youshouldbanghim.
Summer:No.
Willa:Wantmetoprintyouapictureofhimforyourwall?
Summer:Idon’tmissyouatall.
***
RhettandIdriveinuttersilence,whichisfine.Itgivesmetheopportunitytogetacquaintedwitheverythingoutthewindow.
“Turnhere.”Onesmallturntakesustoadead-endsidestreet,atthebottomofwhichsitsTheRailspur.
ThepubisnotwhatIwasexpectingfromasmalltown.Infact,ChestnutSpringsisnotwhatIwasexpectingfromasmalltown.IthinkmydadandIhavewatchedafewtoomanyoldwesternmovies,andI’mrealizingthatIamtrulyanobliviouscitygirl.
BecauseChestnutSpringsisbeautiful.Themainstreethastheseadorablebricked-insidewalks,ornatelamppostswithlittletownflagsdanglingfromthem,andthebusinessesdownherehavemaintainedthehistoricfacadeswhilemodernizingoraddingontotherest.OldbrickbuildingswithdramaticarchwaysorcharmingcolorfulawningslineeachsideofRosewoodStreet,themainthoroughfareintown.
Andthepubisnotsomesmall-towndiveeither.It’slike…cowboychic.
“Isthisanoldtrainstation?”IaskasIrollintotheparkinglotthatRhettjustsilentlypointedto.
“Yup.”
“Iguessthenameshouldhavebeenclueenough,”Isay,mostlytomyselfsinceRhettseemslimitedtogruntsandone-wordanswers,beforepullingtoastopinaspacenottoofarfromthedoor.
Hegrunts.
AndIturntohimasheflingsoffhisseatbelt,likehecan’tgetawayfastenough.“Areyoualwaysthismonosyllabic?Oristhisspecialjustforme?”
“Idon’tneedthis,”hemuttersjustbeforeheslamsthepassengerdoorinmyfaceandstormstowardthebar.
Iflopbackagainstmyseatandblowaraspberryoutthroughmylips.
IaskmyselfwhatIalwaysdo.
Ifthisweremylastmomentalive,howwouldIwantittobe?
Myeyesfluttershut,andIsuckinadeepbreath,likethatmighthelpmegrowsomeextrapatiencetodealwiththebigassholebullriderassignedtome.Becauseinmylastmoments,I’dwanttofeelhappy.IfIstepoutofthiscarandgetrundown,Iwanttogooutfeelinggood,notpissedoffatsomelong-haired,broad-shouldered,round-assedcowboy.
ThatisnothowSummerHamiltongoes.
Nottoday,Satan.
Thenmydooriswrenchedopen.“Areyouhavingastroke?”Rhettpeersdownatme,lipscurvingtowardtheground.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask,browsknittinginconfusion.Ithoughthe’dstormedintothebar.
“Openingyourdoorforyou.Nowgetout.”
MylipstugupandasilentgigglefillsmeasIrealizehe’stryingtobegentlemanlikewhilealsobeingagrumpydick.Andwiththat,IstepoutofmySUV,pattingthehoodonthewaypastwithaquiet,“Sorry.”Becausethatdickslammedherdoorwaytoohard.
Wedon’tlookateachotheraswewalk,buthetouchesmyshouldergentlyandgesturesmeacrosshisbody.Hemovesmetotheoppositesideofhimbeforetakinguppositionbytheroad.
Thismangivesmewhiplash.
Hetugsthebardooropenbygrabbingoneofthelongbrasspullsthatstretchesalmostthefulllengthofthewoodframe.OnceIpassthrough,Rhettisgonewithoutaword,andI’mleftadmiringtheinteriorofthepub.
Insidethere’salongbarthatrunsthefulllengthoftheleftsideofthebuildingandhigh-toptablesdotthemainarea.Furtherback,Icanseeaslightlyraisedsectionwithapooltable,burgundyleathercouches,andafireplace.
Rhettclearlymadeabeelineforthebar,andafewlocalshavecorneredhim.Therearebackpatsandhandshakesexchangedbetweenthemen,butthere’salsoatensiontothegreeting,andIcan’thelpbutwonderwhatthey’resayingtohim.
Beauwasstoppingtopickupafriendandisafewminutesbehindus,soIopttodoawalk-bybehindRhettandseeifIcanoverhearanythingbeforeheadingtotheladies’roomtoburnsometimebeforepeoplewhoactuallyacknowledgemyexistencearrive.
I’mstillwearingmyfavoriteskin-tightskinnyjeansandwhiteeyeletblouse.Ievenpairedtheoutfitwithapairofsuper-cutebootiesthatseematadcountrytome.Minustheheel,butwhatever.
Youcantakethegirloutofthecityandallthat.
ButitmustbeobvioustothelocalsthatI’mnotfromaroundhere,becauseI’mdefinitelygarneringsomelooksasIweavemywaythroughthetables.Rhett’sgazedartstomeasIeasemyselfinhisdirection,butasidefromthatoneflickoftheeyes,hedoesn’tacknowledgemyexistence.
It’sanobvioushintthathe’drathernotassociatewithmerightnow,soItrailpasthim,catchingawhiffofwhatevercolognehe’swearing.There’saliquoricenotetoitI’venevernoticedbeforenow,followedbyleather.Idon’tknowifit’shisboots,orhisbelt,orjustthatamanthatruggedisdestinedtosmelllikesomethingequallymasculine.
Eitherway,it’saheadycombination.Onethathasmetakingadeepbreathonmywaypast,creepyasthatmakesme.
Itiswhatitis.
OnemansqueezesRhett’sshoulder.“Weknowyou,Rhett.Weknowyourfamily.Whatthemediatellsusaboutyoudoesn’tmatter.You’reagoodboy.”
Ialmostsnort.Boy.Maybethat’stheproblem.Everyonestillcoddleshimlikehe’salittleboyratherthantellinghimtotakesomeresponsibilityforhisactions.Shouldhebeintroubleforwhathesaid?No.Buthedoesn’tneedabunchofbackpatsoveriteither.
Thebathroomsarestraightofftheendofthebar,andIpushthedooropentofindfarmorewomenprimpingunderthebrighthalogenlightsthanIwasexpectingonaMondaynight.
Igivethemthatweirdclosed-mouthsmileIoftengivetostrangersinsteadofjustsayinghi.Iknowitlookspained,forced—alittleserial-killer-y—butIkeepdoingitanyway.
It’saproblem,andIcan’tstop.
Theyeyemesuspiciouslyastheirconversationpauses,butassoonasIlockmyselfinthestall,theygoonlikeI’mnotevenhere.
“DidyouseeRhettEatonatthebar?”Thegirl’squestionismetwithachorusofmoansand“oohs”likehe’skingcrabandabowlofbutterorsomething.
Anotheronepipesup.“NobodycallAmber.She’llmarchdownhereandfreakoutwhensheseeshimgohomewithsomeoneelse.”
“Sheneedstogetoverhim.”
“Yeah.”Thefirstgirllaughs.“Givetherestofusaturn.”
“You?No.Me.Idon’tjustwantaturnthough.I’dlockthatshitdownforever.ThoseEatonboystakeaftertheirdad.AndHarveyEatonisatotalDILF.GILF?”
“Iguesswe’llseewhohechoosestonight,then.”Thegirlwhosaysitistryingtosoundlighthearted,butIrecognizethestreakofvenominhervoice.
Theyalldissolveintoafitofgigglesthataredulledonlybythesoundofmepeeingandrubbingmyhandsovermyface.
Becauseit’sonlyDayOne,andI’malreadygoingtobecalledupontohelpkeepLittleRhettinhispants.
***
Backoutinthebar,theflockofwomenhavedescendedonRhettandareusheringhimovertoatable.
I’mstandingattheendofthebar,steelingmyselftowalkoverthereandmakeRhettEatonhatememorethanhealreadydoes.I’verackedmybrainforsomethingIcandothatdoesn’tinvolvemebeinganembarrassingwetblanket.
Kipwouldwalkoverthereanddoleoutafirmbutfairverbalspanking.ButI’mnotKip.I’matwenty-five-year-oldwomanwhoisbrandnewtothejobandinwayoverhergoddamnhead.
Whatwasmydadthinking?
“Summer!”Ifollowthesoundofmynameoverthebuzzingseaoftablestowardthebackcouches.Beauisthere,wearingafriendlysmileandwavingatme.Theperfectout.
AndItakeit.
Iopttogositthereandplanratherthanshootfromthehip.MyheelsclackagainstthewoodenfloorasIheadinBeau’sdirection.WhenIreachthecouches,Iseetheshapeofhisfriendsittingwithhimonthecouch,facingawayfromthemainfloorofthebar.Itisn’tuntilIgetclosertothelow-slungtablebetweenthemthatIgetagoodlookattheotherman.Andevenwithabeardandcappulleddownoverhisface,Irecognizehim.
Everyoneinthiscountryprobablydoes.
JasperGervais,professionalhockeyplayer.Goaltenderextraordinaire.CanadianOlympicsensation.Andanotheroneofmydad’sclients,whosenameIknowfromspendingthelastseveralsummersofmylifedoingpaperworkatHamiltonElite.
“Summer,thisismybuddy,Jasper.”Beauhikesathumbinhisfriend’sdirectionandscootchesdownasIhithimwithmystupid,awkwardsmile-greetingbeforeIcanreelitin.ButI’malittlerelievedwhenJaspergivesmeamatchingserial-killersmileback.
“Hi,Jasper,”IsaybeforefloppingdownontothecouchnexttoBeau.
“Hey,”hehuffsout.Clearlynotchatty,whichisfinebyme.
“Weorderedyouadrink.”Beaupushesasmallwineglass,fulltothetop,inmydirectionwithabitofagrimaceonhisface.“Thoughtyouseemedlikeawhitewinegal.”
Jasperchucklesandtipshisbeerback.
Myeyesroll.Theseguysarehavingwaytoomuchfunwiththecity-girljokes.Theworstpartis,they’renotevenwrong.“Wineandtequila.Butthisdoesn’tfeellikeatequilanight.”
Theybothlaugh,andIreachfortheglassofwine,prayingIdon’tspillitallovermyself.
Fromhere,IhaveaperfectviewofRhett,seatedonastoolwheretworoundtableshavebeenpulledtogether.He’ssmiling,talkingwithhishands,andmyeyestrailalongthem,theveinedtopsofthem,catchingontheglintofsilveronhisfinger.Theringthatmatchesthesilvercuffbraceletaroundhiswrist.
OnlyRhettEatoncouldmakejewelrylooksogoddamnmanly.
Outwardly,heseemslikehe’shavingagoodtime,butthere’ssomethingoffaboutit.Somethingisnotquiteright.Hisfacelookssereneandinhiselement,buthisshouldersaretight.There’sasettohisjawandapinchtothecornersofhiseyes.Hissmiledoesn’tquitestretchalltheway.
“Youtryingtocastsomesortofcurseonmylittlebrother?”Beauasks,headswivelingbetweenmyfaceandwhereI’mstaring.
Isnortandtakeabiggulpofwine.Ittastesterrible,butIdon’tcare.Ineedalittleliquidcourage.“No.I’mtryingtofigureouthowtodomyjobwithoutmakinghimhatememorethanhealreadydoes.”
“Fair.Hedoesseemtohateyou.”
“Rhett?”Jasperaskswitharaisedbrow.
InodabsentlyjustasBeausays,“Oh,hellyeah.”
Thehockeyplayersnorts.“Nah.Thatkiddoesn’thaveameanboneinhisbody.He’snicetoeveryone.”
Butdoeshemeanit?That’sthequestionbouncingaroundinmyheadasIwatchhimsitthererigidlyasawomanrubshisshoulderwhilestaringathimwithheartsinhereyes.
“Youthinkhe’llbenicetomewhenIwalkoverthereandtellhimhecan’ttakeallthosegirlshometonight?Ordrinktoomuch?”Iprobablyshouldhaveputmyfootdownongoingoutatalltonight.Allthewaystonightcouldgowrongflashthroughmyhead.
Jasperscoffsandshakeshishead.Butit’sBeauwhopipesup.“Rhettdoesn’tcareabouttakingthosegirlshome.He’sjusttoonicetotellthemtoleavehimalone.”
“Facts,”Jaspergrumbleswithasmirkbeforetippingthebrownbottlebackagainsthislips.
“IfhewasapricklikeJasper,he’dbefine.”
Jasperdoesn’teventrytocorrecthisfriend’sassessment.
“Idon’tknow…”MynosewrinklesasIweighmyoptions.
It’satthatmomenttheserverswingspast.“Y’alldoingokay?CanIgrabyouanotherround?”
AndthenBeau’seyeslightuplikeakidonChristmas.
“Yeah.”Hepullsatwenty-dollarbilloutofhiswalletandplacesitinthemiddleofthetable.“Iwillgiveyouanotheroneofthoseforeveryultra-girlymilk-basedbeverageyoutakeovertomybrother.”
Theserver’seyeswiden.Andsodomine.
Jasperholdsafistupoverhislipsandhisshouldersshake.“Putanumbrellainit.”
Beau’snotdonethough.“Andannouncetothetablethatthedrinkisfromhisfuturewifeandthatsheknowsthisishisfavorite.”
MyjawdropsasIstareatBeau.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Pissinghimoffenoughtodraghimawayfromthattableforyou.”
Ilaugh.ThisisnottheplanIhadinmind.Boys.
Theservernibblesatherlip,staringdownatthecashasshehugsthebrownplastictraytoherchest.“Isthisatrick?”
“No,Bailey,”Beauanswers,hisvoicesoftening.“Thishasnothingtodowithyou.Allingoodfun.”
Sheturnswideeyesonhim,lookingparticularlyyounginthismoment.ThoughIknowtoworkinthebar,shehastobeatleasteighteen.“Okay.Fine.”
Andwiththat,sheswipesthecashoffthetableandscurriesaway.7
Rhett
Kip:Talkedtotherestofyoursponsorstoday.Acouplewereundecidedonwhatthey’regoingtodo.ButWranglerandAriatarestillon…solongasyoukeepyourshittogether.
Kip:Hello?Yougoingtothankme?
Rhett:Nope.
Kip:Iknowyouloveme.
Rhett:Idon’t.Yousiccedanattackdogonme.Yourprincessisarealball-buster.
Kip:Good.Yourballscouldusesomebusting.
***
I’minthemiddleofrecountingoneofmymostrecentrides,somethingIactuallyliketalkingabout,whenaglassslidesinfrontofmyspotatthetable.
MyeyessnapuptolittleBaileyJansen,nibblingonherlipwithrosycheeks.“Thisisfromyourfuturewife.”Irearbackatthat.“Shesayssheknowsit’syourfavorite.”Baileycanbarelygetthewordsout.
IdosomementalgymnasticsasIglancearoundthetable,buteveryonehereseemsequallyconfusedasIfeel.Thefewmenherearechuckling,butthegirlsrangefromlookingconfusedtodownrightferal.
Ifoneofthemwassmilingatme,I’dknowitwasher.
WhenItakeaproperlookatthedrink,I’mevenmoreconfused.
“Whatisthis?”
“It’s…um…aWhiteRussian?”
MybrowsknittogetherasIstaredownatthemilkydrink,threadsofdarkliquorpullingupfromthebottom.Whatthefuck?
“Enjoy!”Baileysqueaksbeforepeelingaway.IfIdidn’tknowshewastheonlygoodJansenoftheentiregroup,I’dsuspecther.ButtheonlythingIsuspectisthatsomeoneelsehasputheruptothis.
MyfirstguessisBeau.
MyeyesscanthebarforhimasLaura,someoneI’veknowninpassingsincehighschool,triestoflagdownaserverlikethismilkyumbrelladrinkisanaffronttomymasculinity.There’sevenafuckingmaraschinocherryontop—plumpandbright.AndasIstareatit,I’mremindedofSummer’smouth.
Iditchedheranddidn’tthinktwiceaboutitwhenwegothere.Notmyfinestmoment.Anddefinitelynotagentlemanlywaytowelcomehertotown.Iswivelonmystool,tryingtoseewhereshelanded.
WhenIfinallyfindher,shelooksdeepinconversationwithmybrotherandhisfriend.Theyallseemrelaxed,andoblivioustowhateverthisstuntishere.So,Irulethemout.Thoughmyeyeslinger.She’stalking,andthosefuckersarehangingoneverywordlikeshe’sthemostinterestingpersonintheworld.
Andtruthbetold,ifIwasn’tsomiffedaboutthiswholething,Imightbeinterestedintalkingtohermore.Shedoesseeminteresting.There’ssomethingintriguingabouther.Thewayshelooks,thewayshetalks,herconfidenceandspunk.
SummerHamiltonisanunusualcombination.
“Excuseme,Rhettwouldneverdrinksomethinglikethis.”Ialmostscoffoutloud.ThewayLauraistalkinglikesheknowsmegratesonmynerves.
Someonepromptlytakesawaythedrinkandreplacesitwithabottleoflocalbrew.SomethingIlike.
Butwithinminutes,Baileyisback,lookinglikeshe’dratherrunoutthefrontdoorthanfaceourtableagain.
“Yourfuturewifesentthisover.Shesaidsheknowshowmuchyoulovechocolatemilkshakes.”ThenshedartsawaywhileIstaredownatthecreamybrowndrinkinalong-stemmartiniglass.
Withanumbrellaandcherryagain.
Thesecherriesaregoingtobethedeathofme.Somehow,mybrainhasconnectedthemtothelipstickSummerwears,andthecolorisn’teventhatsimilar.Butit’sgoingthereanyway.
It’sgoingotherplacestoo.Likehowthatmouthwouldlookwrappedaroundmydick.
WhenIpeerupatherthistime,herbigbrowneyesflitinmydirection,butshepursesherlipsandturnsaway,likeshefindssomethingdistastefulaboutme.
Someguysatthetablearehavingarealgoodlaughnow.“Thoughtyoudidn’tlikemilk,Eaton?”oneoftheoldermenblurtsout,andasmiletugsatmylips.Atleastthesepeopledon’thatemeforsayingwhatIsaid.Andasusual,theirattentionfeelsgood.Irollmyshouldersbackandchoosetoignorewhoeverispullingthehilariousprank.
“Thisisridiculous,”Laurahisses,rubbingmybacklikeI’mupset.ButIdon’tgetmad,Igeteven.AndwhenIfigureoutwhoisgettingakickoutofsendingmethesemilkyfuckingmesses,itwillbegameon.
“Bailey,darlin’,Idon’twantthis.”
Shenodsquicklyandsnatchesitawaybeforeleavingusagain.
Lauraleansclose,herlipsbrushingacrossmyearinawaythatshouldbesexy,butmakesmerecoilasshewhispers,“I’msosorrysomeoneisdoingthistoyou.Mockingyoulikethis.It’sbeenatoughweekforyoualready.”
She’snotwrongaboutthat.Butshewon’tbethefactorthatturnsthisweekaroundeither.Thingsaren’tgoingtoturnarounduntilIcanditchmybabysitteronceandforall—evenifsheisn’tfollowingmearoundlikeIthoughtshemight.
Idon’tthrowLauraanybones,butIdon’tpushherawayeither.EvenifI’mnotremotelyinterested,Idon’twanttoberude.So,Itipmybeerbottleinherdirectionbeforetakingaswig.
“Allgood.I’mabigboy.”
Shesmilessuggestively,readinganinnuendothatisn’tthere,andItakeanotherswallow.BecausethatwasnothowIintendedforittocomeout.
Withawink,sheslidesherhanduptoplaywiththeendsofmyhair.“I’veheard.”
AndthatiswhyIdon’thookupwithwomeninthistownanymore.IhadonecasualgirlfriendbeforeIlearnedmylesson.YougetablowjobfromsomeoneinChestnutSpringsandthenextthingyouknow,it’sinthenewspaper,andtheladiesatthesalonareplanningafuckingwedding.No,Ikeepthatshitontheroadwhereitbelongs.
WhenIcomehome,Iwantprivacy.
Myeyesflituptowheremybrotherissitting,andthistime,I’mmetwithallthreeofthemstaringbackatme.Whentheycatchmelooking,SummerandBeauquicklyglancedownandreachfortheirdrinks.
Jaspergrinsatmefrombeneaththebrimofhiscap.Theguyisquietanddoesn’tsmilethatmuch.Hegivesthoughtfulpausesandone-wordanswersuntilyougetafewdrinksintohim.Theysaygoaltendersareadifferentbreed,andinJasper’scase,that’strue.Ishouldknow,wegrewupwiththeguy.
Andmorethananything,itgetsmewonderingwhyhe’sstaringatmelikethefuckingCheshireCat.It’screepingmethehellout.Thewayitslowlywidensfurtherashiseyesdroptothetableinfrontofme.
IglanceoverintimetoseeBaileyhustlingaway.Thistime,shedidn’tevensayanything.Justdroppedthedrinkandran.Can’tsaythatIblameher.
“Isthat…”Lauralooksoffended,likesomeonejustcalledhermotherawhore.
Theclearglassmugisonetypicallyusedforspecialitycoffee.Buttheliquidinsideissolidwhite.It’stoppedwithwhippedcream.
Andafuckingcherry.
WhenItouchtheside,it’swarm.Nothot.Warm,likeI’dmakehotchocolateforLuke.
“Isthatwarmmilk?”Laura’svoiceisshrill,andIhearsnickeringfromaroundthetable,butIdon’taddressthem.
Instead,Itearmyeyesawayfromthewhippedcreammeltingdownthesidesofthemug,makingacolossalmess,andpeerupatthecouchesintheback.
Jasperisstillstaringatme,butthistime,hishandisthrownoverhismouth,shouldersshakingwithbarelyrestrainedlaughter.Beau,thecocksuckerthatheis,hasfloppedbackonthecouch,likethisisthefunniestjokeintheworld.
Spoileralert:it’snot.
Ijustlostahugesponsorshipovermilk,andthesedickheadsaresittingaroundsendingmewarmmilk.Ialmostshudderatthethought.
Butit’sSummerthatreallygetsme.She’ssittingtherelookingperfectlyputtogether,perfectlysmug.Legscrossedinthemostlady-likewaywiththechocolatemilkmartiniIsentbackinherhand.Sheholdsituptomeinasilent“cheers”andthenplucksthecherryoffthetopandwrapsherlipsaroundit.
AndthenI’mmovingacrossthebar.Storminguptowardthem.HalfamusedandhalfpissedoffthatthesefuckingtraitorsareplayingtricksonmewiththewomanwhosepresencetheyknowIdon’tlike.Itseemslikethey’retakinghersidewhenit’smethey’veknowntheirentirelives.AmIhavingaminorinternaltempertantrumoverit?
Maybe.
I’vealwaysbeenthejokeinthisfamily.Theonethatgetspokedfunat.Theonenobodytakesseriously.
“Rhett,youforgotyourwarmmilk,”JaspersaysasIapproach.Beaumakessomehonkingnoiseashetries,andfails,tokeephimselffromburstingoutlaughing.Healwayshasbeenthegiddy,lightheartedoneofus.Whichisfuckingwildconsideringhe’sJTF2,Canada’stopspecialforcesunit.
“No,no,no.”Beaugaspsforair.“He’scomingupherebecausehewantstheWhiteRussianinstead.”
Ishakemyhead.Thecornersofmymouthtiltup,eventhoughI’mworkinghardtokeepthemdown.“Youguysaresuchfuckinglosers.”Ipropmyhandsonmyhipsandstareupattheceilingwhereanornatebrasschandelierhangs,completingtheupscalecountryvibethisplacehastakenonundernewownership.
“Shouldn’ttalktoyourfuturewifethatway,”Jasperbitesbeforesnortingandbarkingoutanotherlaugh.
Theirlaughterisinfectious,andI’mtryingtonotletitovertakeme.Idon’twanttofindthisfunny.Butiftherewaseverapersonwhocouldgivemethegiggles,itwouldbeBeau.Andrightnow,heisunhinged.
IpeekdownatSummer.Herwide,sparklingeyeslookingupatmearedownrightdisarming.She’stryingnottolaugh,andI’mtryingnottogetabonerfromstaringathermouth.It’safuckingstruggleforusboth.
“Wasthisyouridea?”
“No.”Shehuffsoutsalaugh,hercomposurefinallycrackingasapinkstainspreadsoutoverhercheeks.“Notevenalittlebit.Iamaninnocentbystander.”
Iregardherwitharaisedbrow,notentirelysureifIbelieveshewasn’tplayingapartinthis.Shealreadyseemstobeamusedbymysuffering,soI’mnotsurewhyshe’ddrawthelinehere.
Plus,thefactthatIcan’tstopstaringathergorgeousfacemakesmefeellikesheisn’tinnocentinmyfrustrationatall.
“Heynow,”Jasperinterjectswithhisraspytonebeforetakingabigswigofhisbeer.“Don’tpickonSummer.Thewarmmilkwasmyidea.ThatwasmorefunthanI’vehadinages.”
Beauslapshiskneeandwheezes.“Youshouldhaveseenyourface!”
Ishakemyheadandletoutachucklethatrumblesinmychest.
“I’mgoingtogetyoubackforthis,”Isay,butmyeyesdartbacktoSummer’sface.Andthenshenods,droppingmygazeforamomentastheshadowsfromherlashesfanacrosstheapplesofhercheeks.Shelooksalmostshy,notsmugatall.
NotwhatIexpected.
Withadeepsigh,IturnandkickJasper’sboot.“Shoveover,asshole.”
IflopdownbesideourchildhoodfriendandfeelimmediatelymoreateasethanIdidatthatothertable—evenwithmylush-lippedbabysitterprincesshere.
ThenIreachforwardandswipetheWhiteRussianoffthetableinfrontofmeandtakeabigswigofitasIthrowanarmoverthebackofthecouch.
“Fuckingdelicious,”Iannouncewithacockygrin.Beaugiggleslikeaschoolgirlalloveragain.Idiot.IrollmyeyesathimandthenturnmyattentiontoSummerasItakeanothersipofthemilkydisasterinmyhand.She’ssmilingatmenow.
AndasmuchasIhatetoadmitit,Ilikehereyesonme.
***
IthoughtafewdrinkswouldprovidemethepainreliefIneedtogetagoodsleepsincethatroughdismountlastweekend,butIwaswrong.
I’vebeenlyinghereforthepasttwoandahalfhourstryingtogetcomfortable.Failing.Andthenberatingmyselffortakingsuchastupidfall.I’vebeenatthisforoveradecade.Thebulldidn’tpiledrivemeintotheground—noavoidingthat—itwasjustastupidlanding.
AndbecauseI’mtruthfullytoooldtostillbedoingwhatI’mdoing,Idon’tbouncebacklikeIusedto.I’mtryingsohardnottoliveonpainkillers—onlyonesetofkidneysandallthat—butI’vebeenpoppingthemlikecandyforthebetterpartofmylife.Ijustdidn’tusetocare.
Scrubbingmyhandsovermyface,Iletoutagroanandrollmyselfoutofbed,wincingasIdo.ThewoodenfloorboardsarecoldagainstmyfeetasIpadacrossmybedroomandturnthedoorhandle.Inthehallway,Itiptoelikeachild.
Ifeellikeone,too,tryingnottowakemydadup.Can’tsayIeverimaginedlivingwithhimatthisage,butwhenI’montheroadforthebetterpartoftheyear,maintainingmyownhousemakeslittlesense.
OnceIretire,I’llbuild,justlikemybrothershave.
OnceIretire.
That’swhatIkeeptellingmyself.That’swhatIkeepputtingoff.Becausewithoutabulltogetoneveryweekend,IhavenoideawhoI’llbe.OrwhatI’lldo.
It’saterrifyingprospect.OneI’mhappytocontinueignoring.
OnceI’mdownthestairs,Itakenormalstridesagain,headingstraighttowardthekitchenwhereIkeepmymedsuphighsoLukecan’tgethisgrubby,trouble-makinghandsonthem.
Roundingthecornerintothekitchen,IfreezewhenIfindit’snotempty.
Summerissittingatthebigfamily-sizedtable,scrollingthroughherphonewithaglassofwaterinfrontofher.Thelightfromherscreenreflectsonherbareface,capturingthelookofsurprisewhensherealizesI’mstandinginthewidearchwaywatchingher.
“Hi,”shesayscarefully,likeshe’snotsurehowI’llreacttoherpresence.
Thingsseemedtosettlebetweenusatthebarafterweallgotagoodlaughoutoftheway.Idon’twanttobeadicktoSummer.Noneofthisisherfault.ButI’mprettysureI’vebeenoneallthesame.Thewomancangetariseoutofmewithouteventrying.
“Hey.Everythingokay?”Iask,soundingloudintheotherwisesilentkitchen.
It’sonethingIloveaboutcominghome.Thesilence.Youjustdon’tgetthatinhotelsorinthecity.Outhere,itistrulyquiet.Trulypeaceful.
Sheplacesherphonedownbeforeliftingherglassinmydirection.“Afewtoomanysugarydrinksmixedwiththebiggestglassofwhitewineever.Thanksfordrivingback.”
IclickmytongueasIpullopenthecupboardoverthesink.“TheRailspurhasgottenafaceliftinrecentyears.Stillnottheplaceforfancy-girlwinethough.”
Shehumsthoughtfully.“Goodpoint.I’llgoforthewarmmilknexttime.”
“Youjustgonnamakefunofmeforthenexttwomonths?”Ipouraglassofwaterandthenmarchbackovertothetable,notmissingthewayhereyestrailovermybody.I’monlywearingboxers,notreallyaccustomedtohavingtocoverupforawomaninthehouse.
HerlipspressintoathinlineasItakeaseat,decidingnottobeatotaldickandstormoutofhere.Hercompanyisn’ttheworst.ShecouldbeLaurapawingatmelikeabearonabeehive.Thatwouldbeworse.
“Probably.It’smydefaultwhenI’muncomfortable.”Shedoesn’twhisperordropmyeyes;shejustsayssomethingvulnerablelikesharingthatkindofshitisnormal.
“You’reuncomfortable?”
Summerblowsaraspberryandflopsagainstthewornladder-backchair.Andit’sonlynowthatInoticeshe’swearingsomesortofsilkytanktopandmatchingshorts.They’relightpurple,andtheyshimmerinthedimlightcastfromthebulboverthestove.
“Ofcourse,Iam.”
“Why?You’reallsmirksandquickcomebacks.Winningeveryoneover.”
Shereachesup,combingherfingersthroughherlongsilkyhair.Tressesthatshimmerlikehermatchingpajamas.Andit’snowInoticethescaronherchest,followedbytheoutlineofhernipplesthroughthetop.They’renothard,butIcanseetheswell,theteaseoftheshape.It’salmostmorealluringtoimaginewhattheymightlooklike.
Iflickmyeyesup,buttheylandonherlips.Smirkinglips.WhichremindsmethatSummerHamiltonpissesmeoff.
“Youthinkthisisidealforme?”sheasks.“Trialbyfire?Havingtofollowaroundsomeonewhoclearlycan’tstandmeasItrytodoabrand-newjobwhilealsotryingnottomakehimhatememore?Oh,yeah.Signmeup.Goodtimes.”
Iraiseabrow.“Theembarrassingmilkdrinkswereanexcellentpathtomakingmelikeyou.Wellplayed.Havingyoujoininwithmydickheadbrotherfeltgreat.”
Thatactuallymightbetheworstpart.Iwantedhertopickmyteam,notBeau’s.EveryonepicksBeaubecausehe’sallsunnyandhandsomeandshit.
Shescoffsandsqueezeshereyesshut.ThefirstsignoffrustrationI’veseenonher.“WouldyouhavepreferredImarchoverthereandintervene?Embarrassyoumyself?”
MybrowfurrowsasIswallowthepill.“Whywouldyou?”
Shelevelsastareatmeandveryseriouslysays,“BecauseIwasfreakingoutthatweshouldn’thavegoneoutatall.ThatI’mnotgoingtobeabletohandlethis—oryou.”
“Iwasn’tdoinganythingwrong.”Jesus,isafewbeersatmylocalwateringholeoffthetable?
“Iknowthat.ButI’msupposedtokeepLittleRhettinyourpants.Andthatonegirlwasreadytopackhimupandtakehimhome.”
“Pardonme?”
“Yourdick.”Shepointsatmylap.“Nocomingouttoplayuntilthisisalldealtwith.Kip’sorders.Yourreputationcan’ttakeyougettingcaughtupinanymoredrama.You’resupposedtoseemwholesome.”
“Iamwholesome.Doesenjoyingsexmakeapersonlesswholesome?”
Sheshivers,andthenquicklyrollshereyeslikeshedoesn’tbelieveme.“Itdoesn’tmatterwhatyouareorarenot.Youneedtolookwholesome,whichmeanskeepitinyourpants.Keepyourhandstoyourself.Winthewholefuckingthingsowecanbothputthisbehindus.”
Istareather.Isthisfresh-out-of-law-schoolknockoutseriouslytellingmewhatIcanandcannotdowithmydick?Howmustsheseeme?
“Andforcryingoutloud,Rhett.”Shestandsandswipesherphoneoffthetablebeforepointingdownatme.“RealizethatI’monyourside.Idon’twantthistobemiserable.Idon’twanttoembarrassyou.Ifyouletme,wecanbeateamratherthanfightingtheentiretime.Useyourhead.”
I’maccustomedtogettingdresseddown.Gettingintroubleisn’tnew,andI’mnotabouttorolloverandtakethisfromher.WhichiswhyIreplywith,“Whichone?”
Andwiththat,shestormsout.Assbarelyconcealedbyhersilkyshorts.Leavingmewonderingifthosearethenew“team”uniform.
Becauseifso,Ijustmightbein.8
Summer
Dad:Ishebeingadick?
Summer:No.
Dad:Wouldyoutellmeifhewas?
Summer:Alsono.
Dad:Summer,ifyouneedbackup,justtellme.IcansendGabriel.
Summer:That’snotevenhisname.Plus,Igrewuparoundyou.Icanhandledicks.
Summer:Fuckmylife.ForgetIsaidthat.
Dad:Alreadydeleted.
***
Isleeplikeshit.AllthewittycomebacksIwishI’dsaidtoRhettlastnightrunthroughmyheadlikethetickeronthebottomofanewschannel.
Heagitatedme.Ilethimgetundermyskin,andIshouldn’thave.Iwalkedawaylikethebiggerperson,eventhoughwhatIwantedtodowaskickhimintheshins.WhichwouldhavehurtlikehellbecauseeverythingaboutRhettEatonishard,andtoned,andcut.
He’snotbulky,buthe’sfit.Aswimmer’sbuild.Strongenoughtostayon,butnotcumbersome.
Andmaybethat’swhyI’magitated.StaringatamagazineadofRhettinWranglerswithheartsinmyeyesasateenagerisfunny,butseeinghimstrippeddownasanadultisnot.
It’sfrustrating.SomethingIneedtoworkoff,whichiswhyI’mpullingonmyfavoriteleggings,sportsbra,andloosetee.Aquicksearchonmyphonebroughtuponeoptionintownforagym,andthat’swhereI’mheaded.
Imarchdownthehallway,ponytailswingingbehindmeasIstrutintothekitchenwithmyheadheldhigh,tryingnottorememberthewaythelightplayedoffeveryridgeonRhett’sbodylastnight—theshadowsbetweeneverydefinedab,thedipatthehollowofhisthroat,thatperfectvheadingtowardtheotherhead.
Whatafuckingdick.
Andthatdick’sdadisalreadysittingatthetable,sippingacoffee,andreadingthenewspaper.
“Goodmorning.”Harveysmilesatme.“Earlyriser,huh?”
“Yeah.”Ireachforamugandpourmyselfacoffee,makingmyselfathomebecause,rightnow,Idesperatelyneedsomecaffeine.“Alwayshavebeen.”
“Metoo,”hetellsme.
AsIpassthefridgewithmycoffeeinhand,Icatchsightofaphotothere,heldupbyamagnetintheshapeofahorse’shead.ApetiteblondewomanbeamsatthecamerabesidetheshiniestblackhorseI’veeverseen.She’swearingblackandgoldjockeysilksandthehorsehasablanketofrosesdrapedoverhim.
“Who’sthis?”IaskHarveycuriously.
Hisrespondingsmileisimmediate.Deepandgenuine.“That’smylittlegirl.Violet.She’sachampionshipracehorsejockey.LivesovernearVancouverwithherhusbandandmyothergrandbabies.”
Ipullthechairoutacrossfromhim,returninghisgrin.“Youmustbeveryproudofher.”
Asadlookflashesinhiseyes,buthecoversitquickly.“Youhavenoidea.”
Iswallowthickly,sensingthat’sasfarasIcangowiththissubject.So,Ichangethetopicentirely.“I’mheadingintotowntotryoutthegym.”
Theoldermannods.“Goodforyou.Ibetyou’llbebackbeforeRhettevenwakesup.”
“Well,great.Ifhegetsup,givehimatranquilizeruntilIreturn.”
“Hegivingyoutroublealready?”
“Nochance.He’sadoll.”IwinkatHarvey,andwesharealaughbeforefallingintoaneasyconversation.
ImakeHarveyandIeachapieceoftoastforbreakfast,andheseemsthoroughlyamusedbymemakinghimbreakfast.Whenwehitanaturallullintheconversation,Icleanupandheadoutthefrontdoortohopinmycar.
Forthehourthatfollows,Iworkoutuntilsweatpoursdownmybody.Iswearitsmellslikecheapwine.ButIdon’tevencare.Myheartpumpsbloodoutthroughmybody,andIfeelalive.Ifeelstrong.Thegymisquiet,andImonopolizeasquatrackuntilmymusclesburnandmylegsshake.
AndwhenIdrivebackthroughthefrontarchwayatWishingWellRanch,Ifeelsubstantiallysaner.
IbreatheinthecrispmorningairasIwalktowardthesprawlinghouse,admiringthewaythefrostonthedeadgrasshasturnedthelandscapeasparklywhite.Somethingthatwillmeltawayassoonasthebrightprairiesungetshighenoughinthebluebirdsky.
WhenIheadbackintothekitchentomakeanotherpotofcoffee,Rhettissittingatthetable,lookingasfrostyasthegrass.
“Goodmorning.”Ismirkathimbecauseheremindsmeofapoutyteenagerscrollingthroughhisphonewithaforcedfrownonhisface.
Hegrunts.Eyesdon’tevenliftfromhisscreen.
So,everythingisgoinggreat.
“WhopissedinyourShreddies,Eaton?”Iask,unshakenbyhissourattitudebecausethere’salreadycoffeemade,readyandwaitingforme.It’sthelittlethingsinlife.
“Everyone.”
Isnort.“Soundsdelicious.”
Rhettmakesagrowlingnoiseandtosseshisphoneonthetablehardenoughthatitslidesalmostdownthefulllength.“AmIjustabigjoketoyou?Ijustlostanothersponsor.YouthinkeverythingI’veworkedforthesepasttenyearscirclingthetoiletisfunny?”
Iturnandregardhim.Obviously,we’renotdoingthebitingbanterthingthismorning.He’strulydowntrodden.
“Idon’tfinditremotelyfunny.”
Hepropshiselbowsonthetableanddropshisheadintohishands,hismaneofhairfallingaroundhisfacelikeacurtainthathideswhateverexpressionmightbethererightnow.
Asighshuddersthroughmybody,andIapproachtopulloutthechairnexttohim,ratherthanacrossfromhim.WhenIsitbesidehim,hestilldoesn’tlookup.He’sclearlytryingoutsomesortofdeepbreathingtechnique,basedonthewhooshofairfromhisnostrils.
MyclaymugclunksonthetableasIreachoutwithmyoppositehandtowardthebroadexpanseofhisback.Ihesitate,myhandflutteringabovehisplainwhitet-shirt,becauseIseriouslywonderiftouchinghimisagoodidea.
It’salittlelikestickingyourhandbetweenthefenceboardstopetadogyoudon’tknow.Theymightbeaverygoodboywholovesattention.Ortheymightbiteyou.
ButI’manempath.Acaretaker.Icanseethedisappointmentemanatingfromhim.Ahugneverfailstomakemefeelbetter,butIwon’thughim—mostlybecauseI’denjoyitfarmorethanisprofessional.However,agentlebackpatneverhurtanyone.
So,Idropmyhandontohisshoulder.First,Igiveasqueeze,butheflinchesandsucksinadeepbreath,likehe’sinpain.
Ipullmyhandaway.Butwhenhisreactionendsthere,andhedoesn’tmakeanyothermovestogetawayfromme,Iputmyhandback,alittlelowerthistime.Runningitalongtheridgeofhisshoulderbladethroughthefabricofhisshirt.
Imovemyhandinasoftcircle,thewaymydadusedtodotomewhenIwashavingaroughday.He’dsitinthatchairbesidemyhospitalbedandrubmybackforhours.Andhenevercomplained.
“Iwasunwellasateenager.Ihadasurgerythatwentwrong,”Isayquietly,lettingmyselfthinkbackonthattime.“Ispentalotoftimeinthehospital.IevenspentsomeofthattimethinkingI’dneverleavethathospital.So,Icameupwithanewwayoflookingatthings.Areyouinterestedinhearingthemusingsofaneternallyoptimisticteenager?”
“Sure.”Hisvoiceistightashepusheshispalmsharderintohisforehead.
“Ifthesewereyourlastfewmomentsonearth,wouldyougohappy?”
Hisrespondingsighisragged.Heclearshisthroat.“No.”
“Butwhy?Youhavesomuch.You’veachievedsomuch.Noone’slifeisperfect.”
Hesitsupstraightnow.AmbereyesregardmelikeImightnotbetheshe-devilhetookmefor.“Haveyougoogledmyname?It’salljust,”—hehuffsoutasadlaugh—“stupid.”
“Itis,”Iagree,solemnlynoddingmyheadandlettingmyhandfallaway.
“IgotanemailfromyourdadsuggestingwespinthisasIwasjokingabouthatingmilk.”
Ileanback,turningslightlytowardhimasIsipmypipinghotcoffee,inhalingthecaffeinatedsteam.Ifyoucouldhuffcoffee,Iwould.I’mprettysureI’mtryingtorightnow.“Youcould.”
“ButIdon’twantto.”
Myheadtilts.“Why?”
Hishandsflyupinfrustration.“Becauseit’strue!Ifuckinghatemilk.Andthatshouldn’tbeacrime.”
Abreathylaughescapesme,mycheekstwitchingasIstruggletocontainmysmile.
“See?You’relaughingatme.”HescrubsahandthroughthescruffonhischinbeforeswinginghisfingerovermyfaceinaUshape.“Youhavebeensincethatfirstdayintheoffice.Thatsnarkylittlesmirk.”
Isitupstraightnowashisgazedropsagain.“Rhett.”Hiseyesroll,andheavoidsmakinganyeyecontactwithme,likeapetulantchild.Ileanforwardandnudgemykneeagainsthis.“Rhett.”
Whenheturnshisfullattentiononme,myheartskittersinmychest.Nomanhasanybusinesslookingasgoodashedoes.Thedarklashes,thesquarejaw.
Withoneshakeofmyhead,Iregainmyfocus.“Iwasnotlaughingatyou.Iwaslaughingatthissituation.BecauseyouknowwhatIthink?”
“Yeah.ThatI’madumbcowboy.”
Irearback,facescrunching.“No.IthinktheyblewthissofaroutofproportionthatIcan’thelpbutlaugh.Whothehellcareswhatyoupreferasabeverage?I’mlaughing,orsmirking,orwhateveryouthink,becausethisentiresituationissoinsultingandfar-fetchedthatifIdidn’tlaughaboutit,I’dstraightupquitmyjobandbecomeapersonaltrainer.”
Hestaresatmeblankly,eyesdartingovermyfacelikehe’ssearchingforproofI’mjoking.
“IfIthinkaboutittoomuch,itmakesmeangryonyourbehalf.AndIdon’twanttobeangry.”
Hegazesdownathishandsandspinsthesilverringonhisfingerbeforewhispering,“Okay.”
God,he’sreallygotthiswounded,insecurelittleboyroutinedown.Inudgehiskneeagain.“Okay,”Irepeat.“Yougonnatellmewhyyouhatemilksomuch?”
“Everhadrawfarmmilk?”heasks.
“No.”
“Okay.Well,it’sthick,andyellow,andfatty,andwehadacowgrowingup,andmydadwouldmakeusdrinkaglassofiteveryday,andI’mprettysureitwasborderlinechildabuse.Now,thethoughtofsittingdownandjustsluggingbackanentireglass…”Heshudders.“I’veneverbeenhappierthanIwasthedaythatcowdied.”
“That’sdark!”Iburstoutlaughing.“Itsoundsterriblethough.I’llgiveyouthat.”
“I’mproperlytraumatized.”Hischeektwitches,andhegivesmeasoftsmile.Agenuineonethatmakesbutterfliesswarminmychest.
Didwejusthavesomesortofbreakthrough?Itseemslikeit.Butsofar,thisguygivesmewhiplash.SomaybeI’mwrong.
WhatIknowforsureisthatIsmelllikesweatandlooklikeamess.So,Ipushtostanding,notrealizinghowcloseIamtohimwhenIdo.Ourkneesbrush,andhiseyeslockonthatspot.
Isuckinasharpbreathandwalkaway.I’mverydueforashower,butIstopatthedoorway,mullingovertheconversationwejusthad.WhenIglanceovermyshoulder,Icatchhiseyesloweronmybodythantheyshouldbe,buttheysnapuptomyfaceinstantly.Mycheeksheatallthesame.Afterall,RhettEatonjustcheckedoutmyassingymtights.
Whichmustbewhymyvoicecomesoutmorehuskythanusual.“Don’tspinitifyoudon’twantto.Anddon’tletKipbullyyouintoit.”
Hislipspresstogether,andhenodsatme.ThenI’mgone.Headingtowardashower.
Acoldone.9
Rhett
Summer:Wanttocometothegymwithme?Itwillbegoodforyou.Youcan’tjustliearoundallweek.
Rhett:Areyoumynewpersonaltrainernowtoo?
Summer:Willthatmakeyoufeelbetteraboutmebeinghere?
Rhett:Maybe.
Summer:Well,then,I’mwhateveryouwantmetobe.
Rhett:That’sadangerousthingtosay.
***
“I’vebeendoingabitofreadingongoodexercisesforbullriders.”Summeriswaitingrightoutsidethemen’schangingroom,talkingatmethesecondIclearthedoor.
“Uhhuh,”IsayasIstepaheadofhertowardthecardioarea,pullingmyhairbackwithanelastic.Treadmills,bikes,andellipticaltrainersfaceoutthewindowsontoRosewoodStreet.
“Doyouusuallyworkoutmuch?”ShepeersupatmecuriouslyasIoptforabike,thinkingitwillhelpstretchoutmyhip,andshovemywaterbottleintotheholderasIclimbup.
“Usually.Lotsofbalancestuff.Butnotlately.It’sharderontheroadsometimes.”
Shehopsuponthebikebesideme.“Icanalsohelpyouwithexercisestoaccommodatewhateverinjuriesyoumighthave.”Andthenshemakesthisadorablesqueakingnoiseandfallsforwardontothehandlesofherbike.“Shit.”
Ilookdownandstoponesideofmymouthfromhitchingup.Shewassobusytalkingtomethatshefailedtonoticetheseatonthebikeshechosewaswaytoohighforsomeoneasshortasherandtippedforwardwhenshereachedforthepedal.
Hercheeksareallpinklikeshe’sembarrassed.Itrytofocusonthefactthatsheappearstobehilariouslyoffbalanceratherthangawkingathowinsanelygoodshelooksingymclothes.Thewaytheyhughercurvescouldalmostmakeaguyjealous.
“ShouldIaskiftheyhaveanychild-sizedbikesyoucanride?”
“Veryfunny.”Shehopsoffandeyesthebikelikeit’spersonallyoffendedhersomehow.“Ihatecardio.”
“Isitbecausethemachineryistoocomplicatedforyou?”Iwinkather,andshescowlsasIstepoffmybikeandpointatthetoo-highseat.“Standnexttoit.”
Herarmscross.“I’mperfectlycapableofadjustingtheseatonmyownbike.”
“Couldhavefooledme,”ImumbleasIrotatetheknobtoloosenthepostanddropitdown.IraiseaneyebrowathertoseeifsheplansonsteppingclosersoIcanmeasuretheseatforher,butshejustcontinuestomean-mugme.So,Ieyeballtheheight,shrugwhenitlooksgoodenough,andthenhopbackontomybikeandstartthewarmupprogram.
Eventually,shereachesoutandreadjuststheseat.Up.Down.AndthensettlesontheexactsamespotIhaditinthefirstplace.
Stubborn
“Ah,yes.Thatlookssomuchbetter,”Ihuffoutwhilekeepingmyeyestrainedontheroadoutfront.Idon’tneedtoturnmygazeonhertoknowshe’sscowlingatme.
“LikeIsaid,I’mperfectlycapableofdoingitmyself.Especiallyifyou’regoingtobeasnarkyprickabouthelpingme.WhatifI’dbeeninjured?”
Ishakemyheadandbitebackasmile.“Areyouinjured,Princess?”
“No,”shegrumblesasshehopsbackonandpedals.“Butyouare.”
“I’mnot.I’mfine.”
“You’reaterribleliar.”Nowit’sherturntoshakeherheadatme,butshedoesn’tpushitanyfurther.Instead,shepopsherbudsintoherearsandblocksmeoutasshedropsherheadandgetstowork.
Andsheworkshard.Harderthanme.BecauseI’mtoobusystealingglancesatherandtryingnottogetcaught.Thereareenoughlocalsinherealreadywho’llbetalkingaboutthefactIwasherewithsomegirl.Idon’tneedtogivethemmoregossipfodderthanthat.
Butthewaysweatshimmersonherskinisfuckingdistracting.Thewayherchestheavesandthepulsepointinherneckflutters.
It’salmostannoying.ThatIcan’tstopstealingglances.ThatI’msopainfullyawareofherrightnexttome.
Butthemostannoyingthingofallisthatshedoesn’tpaymeanyattentionatall.Andaftertwentyminutes,shehopsoffherbike,wipesitdown,andwalksaway—givingmethemostgloriousviewofherpertass—withoutsayingagoddamnwordtome.
I’mfairlycertainShirleyatthefrontdeskseesmestaringatSummer’sasswhileshewalksacrossthegymtowardasquatrack.Sheraiseshereyebrowsatmeandsmilesknowingly,erasinganyquestionsaboutwhethershesawme.
Idropmyheadbackdownandtrytofocusonmyownworkout,myownbody.Takingphysicalinventoryofeveryacheandpain.ThemoreImove,thebettermyhipfeels.Iknewafewdaysofrestwouldhelpthat.Butmyshoulderstillisn’tright,anditisn’tgettingbetterveryquicklyeither.
Deepdown,Isuspectthere’ssomethingmoregoingonthanasimplestrainthatwilltakeafewdaysofftoheal.Youbeatyourbodyupforthismanyyears,andyouknowthedifference.
ButIdon’twanttoadmitit.BecauseifIletmyselfacceptit,I’lljustfeelworse.I’llstartsecond-guessingmyself.AndIcan’taffordtodothat.
IpeekoveratSummeragain.She’sseatedonthegroundwithherbackpressedagainstabenchandalongbarbellrestingacrossherwaist.Whenmygazetracesdowntotheendofit,myeyesbulge.Thenumberofplatesshehasstackedthereseems,well,almostimpossibleforawomanhersize.
Butthenherhipsthrustup,andsheliftsthebarwiththestrengthofher…Idon’tevenknow.Herass?Thewayit’sclenching,thewayherlipspartonaheavybreath.
It’salljustconfirmationthatI’mafuckingpervert.
Justpervertedenoughtoditchmybikeandwanderoverforacloserlook.Idon’thavetolikeSummertobeimpressedbyher,right?
“What’sthisonecalled?”IaskasIapproach.
“Hipthrust.Wanttotry?”
DoIever.
Thewayshe’sstaringupatmerightnowmakesmydicktwitch.
Shepointsdownatthebar,though,andmyhipspasmsjustlookingatit.“No,thanks.”
“Isitbecauseyou’reinjured?”Shegivesmeaflat,snarkylittlesmile.Idon’tthinkI’mfoolingheratall.
“I’mnotinjured,”Ireply,feelinghergazecoastoverme,mimickingthesweattrailingdownmyspine.
Shejustsighs.“Okay.You’renotinjured.But…”Sherollsthebaroffherselfandpushestostandbeforeme.Iwatchabeadofperspirationrolldownherchest,throughthevalleybetweenherbreasts,andstraightintoherhotpinksportsbra.“Pretendabullriderwasinjured.”
Summerflipsapalminmydirectionandwidenshereyesslightly.“Whatwouldbeacommoninjuryforhimtodealwith?”
Iregardher,seeingwhatshe’sdoinghereandtryingtodecideifIwanttotrustherenoughtogowithit.
“Handsandshoulders,”Iblurt.Shenodsasmyeyesdroptothebarshewashipthrusting.“Andsometimeships.”
Herfingertapsagainstherlips,andshehumsthoughtfully.“So,thispretendbullriderwouldprobablybenefitfromaspecializedworkoutthatincludescoreexercises?Andmaybesomestretching?”
Ifeelsomeofmytensionseepout.Ifeelreliefthatthishasn’tturnedintoascoldingoraconversationabouthowrecklessIam.Andwithmyhandsproppedonmyhips,Iofferherastiffnod.
Oneshereturnsbeforeputtingmetoworkuntilmyabsburn.
Twentyminuteslater,Iwheeze,“I’mtappingout.”Iflopbackonthemat,absolutelybrutalizedbythepetitepowerhousewhojusttriedtomurdermewithher“specializedworkout.”
Specializedtokillme.
“Okay,let’sstretch,”ishowsherespondsasshetossesamatdownandkneelsbesideme.WhenIglanceupather,afaintsmiletouchesherlips,andhereyesdartaroundmyface.
“Whydoyoulooksopleasedwithyourself?Icanseethatevillittlesmile,”Ipantout,stilltryingandfailingtocatchmybreath.
Shejustlaughs,reachingforsomelongpieceoffoamthatshebroughtoverearlier.“It’sasatisfiedsmile.Thatwasfun.”
“Youliketotorturemenforkicks.Gotit.”
Shepatsmeontheshoulder.“Onlytheoneswhodeserveit.”
Ihuffoutalaugh.BecauseIprobablydodeserveit.
“Okay,situp.I’mgoingtoslidethisunderyourbackandletyoulieonitforabit.Openuptheshoulders,stretchoutthechest.”
I’mpusheduptosittingbeforesheevenfinisheshersentenceandfindmyselfface-to-facewithher.CloserthanIshouldbe,eyesgluedtothewayherlipsmoveandtheflashesofwhiteteethbehindthemasshechattersaway.
Shehasnoideahowdistractingsheis.
Whenshereachesaroundmewiththefoamroller,Icatchawhiffofcherriesandthesaltytangofsweat.
“…andthenyou’llletyourshouldersdroptothefloor.”
Imissedmostofwhatshewassaying,butshe’soblivious.Hersmallpalmlandscarelesslyinthemiddleofmychestandpressesmebackdowntothefloor.
Ithinkabouthowbadachickenfarmsmellstokeepfromgettinghard.AndonceI’mlyingflat,spineproppedovertheroundedfoampiece,Iforcemyselftofocusonthebanksoflightsabovemeandtheclankingofmachineryaroundmeratherthanthewayshelookshoveringovermeandthequietwayshemurmurs,“Goodjob.”
Shecountsunderherbreath,andIletmyeyesclose,tryingtorelaxontotheroller,lettingmyselfsoftenintothestretchacrossmybackandchest.Thepainslowlyeasingwhenhertouchmovestothefrontofmyshoulder,gentlypressingdown,deepeningthestretch.
“Howdoesthatfeel?”Summer’svoiceiscurious.
Ipeerupather,takingintheearnestexpressiononherface.Thedamphairsatthebaseofherneckjustbelowherear.Shereallyisfuckinglovely.
Andallherattentionisonme
“Reallygood,”Ireply,myvoiceallgravel.ThenIrisklookingherintheeyeasIhuskadeep,“Thankyou.”
Shebrightens,asoft,satisfiedsmilegracingherfeatures.“You’rewelcome.Anytime.”
Andjustlikethat,IthinkIhavemyfirstgymcrush.10Summer
Dad:Howmanyinterviewshaveyousetupforthisweekend?
Summer:Two.
Dad:Good.Youneedtotellhimwhathe’llneedtosay.He’srefusingtoplaythisoffasajoke,soheneedstoatleastseemremorseful.
Summer:Forpunchingaguyorforhavingabeveragepreference?
Dad:Both.Wecouldhavehimgooutandorderaglassofmilkandcallsomeonetosnapphotos.
Summer:No.We’renotdoingthat.Don’tevensuggestit.
Dad:Why?
Summer:Becausehedoesn’tlikeit.
***
“How’sthehotcowboy?”Willaasks,soundingsomewhatdistractedontheotherendoftheline.
“Good.Fine,”Isay,leaningontopofmyleatherduffelbagtocloseeverythingintoit.Ithoughtitwouldbeperfectforourweekendsaway,butIdon’tpacklight.
“Actually?”Shesoundssurprised,andIsupposeafterourlastconversation,thatmakessense.
“Yeah.Ithinkwecametosomesortoftruceearlierthisweek.Mydayshaveinvolvedworkingouteverymorningandthenmakingtravelarrangementsandsendinginterviewrequestsforthecitieswe’reheadingto.I’mthinkingifIcancuratesomeofthesenewsstoriesforhim,theymightbemorefavorable.”
IresolvenottomentionthatIalmostclimbedontopofhimatthegymyesterday.Thathelookedgoodenoughtoeatandthathefinallytreatedmelikehemightnottotallyhateme.
“Huh.Andhe’sstayingoutoftrouble?”
“Wils,he’snotadogwhokeepsgettingoutoftheyard.Hemostlysleeps,reads,andhelpshisdadandbrothersaroundtheranch.He’snotanidiot,andthere’sonlysomuchtodoouthere.I’mnotgoingtoridehisassunnecessarily.”
Shehumssuggestively.“Butwouldyoulethimrideyours?”
“Okay,it’sbeennicechatting!Bye!”
“Prude,”shemutters.
“Loveyoutoo,”Isaybeforeendingthecallandputtingmyfocusonthelastsectionofzipper.WhenIfinallyrealizethatit’sgoingtobreakthebagifItravelwiththesmallerduffel,Igiveupandpackeverythingintothehard-shellsuitcase.
IdragmybagdownthehallwayandmeetRhettatthefrontdoortoleavefortheairport.Heholdsafistoverhismouthforamomenttostiflealaugh.Isupposelaughingatmeispreferabletothescowlingwestartedwith.
“IsKiphidinginthatsuitcase?”
Mylipstwitch.“Shutup.”
Hedoesn’tshutup.Hesays,“Youknowwe’regoneforfourdays,right?”Buthesmilesatme.Anditstunsme.Allmasculineconfidenceandplayfulallure.
Ithinkitmightbethesexiestsmileanyonehasevergivenme.
***
Theplasticarenaseatiscoolbeneathme.Iscrollthroughmyemails,whichhaveallbeenreadandrespondedto.Eventheincessanttextsfrommydadabouthowthingsaregoing,whatwe’redoing,andishekeepinghishandstohimself.
Thosepartshavemyeyesrolling,becauseevenifRhettandIareonfriendly-ishterms,hewouldneverbeinterestedinsomeonelikeme.He’smadethatabundantlyclear.Andthat’sfinebecauseIcan’ttakeanotherheartbreak.
Myex,Rob,putmyheartbacktogetherandthentoreittoshreds.IwishIcouldsayIhatehim.Ishouldhatehim.Butit’shardtoextricatemyselffromhim.There’ssomethingintenselypersonalaboutlettingsomeoneinsideyourbodythatway.
Butrightnow,myheartfeelsjustfine.Asidefromthefactthatit’spoundingasIlookoutintothedirtring.
Ihavetoadmit,thisisquitetheshow.Thestandsarefillingwithhappychatterandlaughteroverthedinofsometwangycountrysongsinthebigstadium.It’snotsometinyrodeo,it’sfull-onentertainment.Bigsponsors,highstakes.
Thehigheststakes.BecausefromtheresearchI’vedoneonthesport,theriskofseriousinjuryisenoughtokeeptheaveragepersonaway.Statistically,it’samiraclethatRhettisstillgoingathisage.Thathehasn’tbeenseriouslyinjured.ThoughI’msuspectinghe’smoresorethanheletson.Thepainkillers.Thewayheflinches.ThewayhehobblesaroundlikeIdoafterdoingtoomanysplit-squatsatthegym.
It’sobvioustomethathe’sinpain.
AndItellmyselfthat’swhyI’mnervousrightnow.ThekneeIhavecrossedovermylegisstillbouncingasIclickoffmyphone,butitdoesn’tstopmefromrappingmyfingersanxiouslyagainstthescreen.
Whenthelightsgodark,Istopbreathing.Butthenspotlightsflashandtheannouncertalksaboutthepointsracefortheupcomingfinals.Rhettisfirmlyinfirstplace,someonenamedEmmettBushissittinginsecond,andTheoSilva,theyoungerguyfromtheinfamousmilkclip,isinthird.
Rhetttoldmeearlierthathedrewagoodbull,andwhenIaskedwhatthatmeans,aslightlypsychoticexpressioncameoverhisfaceashislipsstretchedintoatoothygrin.“Itmeanshe’sgoingtowanttokillme,Princess.”
Princess.
Thefifteen-year-oldinmefaintedonthespot,becausethistimeitdidn’thavethebiteofaninsult.Butthetwenty-five-year-oldmeliftedafingerathimandsaid,“Don’tprincessme,Eaton.”
Hechuckledandswaggeredawaytothelockerroomswherealltheridersgetready,notlookingconcernedatall.AndIlefthim.DespitewhatKipthinksIshoulddo,I’mnotbargingintohisdressingroomtofollowhimaround.Weallhavelines,andthat’smine.
So,hereIam,watchingandnibblingonmylip.Theenergyinthearenaisdownrightinfectious.ThesmellofdustandpopcornwaftthroughthestandsasIlooktothegatedareaattheclosestendofthering.
There’sabrownbullinthechute.Icanhearitssnortsandseeafewguysapproachingthemetalfences.Cowboyhatsasfarastheeyecansee.FirmbuttsintightWranglers—theviewisn’tterrible.
EspeciallynotwhenIcatchsightofRhettclimbingontothetopofthefence.Myheartstutter-steps.Yeah,IwatchedhimonYouTube,butseeingitinreallifeisdifferent.
There’ssomethingaboutamanwhoisdamngoodatwhathedoesthatholdsanappealforme.Everystepissure.Practiced.Fullofconfidence.Hiswarm-brownleatherchaps,withdarkenedspotsfromwear,matchhiseyes.They’rethecolorofthetiger’s-eyestonesIlikedasachild.Brightandshiny,perfectlypolished.
Thecollarofhisdarkblueshirtrubsagainstwherehishairispulledbackinashortponytail,andhisbroadshoulderspeekoutfromthevesthewears.Theonewithpaddingtoprotecthimfromhardfalls,orflyinghooves,orwell-placedhorns.
Itlooksdownrightflimsynexttothesnortingbullinthechute.Likeachildwithafoamswordabouttobattleaproperknight.
TheohopsdownontothebullandthenglancesupatRhett’sfacewithashit-eatinggrinandawink.Theysharealaughandfistbump.There’sthissmallsenseofreliefinsidemethatit’snotRhettwho’sgettingonthebulljustyet.I’msobusywatchingthewayhisbodybalancesonthetopofthefence,thatIjumpwhenthegatesflyopenandthereddishbullsurgesout.
Thebull’snosegoesstraighttothegroundandhishoovesflyuphighbehindTheo’shead.Aflimsycowboyhatistheonlyprotectionhe’swearing,andIfeellikeamotherhenwantingtorushdownthereandscoldhimfornotwearingahelmet.
Thebullturnsinatightcircleandmyeyesflashuptothetimer,shockedtofindthathiseightsecondsarealmostup.Whenthebuzzersounds,therodeoclownsrushovertohelphimdismount,butheleapsoffandtossesahandintheairbeforeturningandpointingatRhett,whoisstillsittingupinthefencing,clappinghard.
Lookingsodamnproudoftheyoungerrider.Truthfully,it’sadorable.
“Youokay,sweetheart?”awomanbesidemeasks.
Ismilebackather.“Yes.Just…nervous.”
“Icantell.”Shenodsherheaddownatmyhands,whicharecurrentlyfistedinthefabricofmyskirt.“Youherewithoneoftheboys?”
“Oh.”Ilaughnervously,notwantingtothrowRhettunderthebustosomeonewhoiswearingaWorldBullRidingFederationt-shirtwithalonghornskullonit.“I’mworkingonthebusinessend.Thisismyfirsttime.”
“Nowtheskirtmakessense,”shesayskindly,eyeingmyoutfit.Idon’tparticularlycareifIappearoutofplace.Ifeelgoodinskirts.Lookgood,feelgood.Andafteryearsofnotfeelinggood,wearingprettyclothesmakesmefeelgood.So,Idoit.EvenifIlookoverdressed.
Ilaughpolitelyallthesame,butwhenshemakesagrumblingnoise,Ifollowherlineofsight,andmyeyeslandrightonRhett,whoispullingahelmetwithacageoverhisheadasawhiteandblackbulltrotsintothechute.Thegateslamsclosedbehindtheanimal,trappingitbetweenthepanels,whichitclearlydoesnotlikebasedonthewayit’scrashingagainstthem.Rhettpullshimselfbackup,wincingashedoes.
Mythroattightens,butRhettonlypausesforamomentbeforedescendingontothebeast’sback,likehe’snotterrifiedbytheprospect.
Iguessit’sjustme.
Herunshishandsovertheropebeforehim,andevenfromsomedistanceaway,IswearIcanheartheraspofhisleathergloveagainsttherope.Thefirmgrip.Thewayhishandripplesoverit.
It’sdownrighthypnotic.Soothing.
“Thatboythinkshe’sGod’sgifttothissport,”thewomanbesidemesays.Herstatementhasmesittingupalittletaller,pinchingmyshoulderbladestogether,andtippingmychinup.AmIRhett’snumberonefan?No.Butafterspendingaweekwiththeguy,afterseeinghowhardhe’stakingthiswholething—howvulnerablehewasatthekitchentablethatmorning—myprotectivestreakisfiredupandreadytoburn.
Ibitemytongueandturnmybodyaway.Iftheseweremylastmomentsalive,I’dratherspendthemenjoyingthethrillofwatchingRhettridethanmouthingofftosomesnarkysuperfan.
Iwatchinraptfascinationashesecureshishandagainstthebull,theoppositeonebracedagainstthefence.Forabeat,hiseyescloseandhisbodygoeseerilystill.
Thenhenods.
Andtheyfly.
Thegatecrashesopen,andhisbullgoesnuts.Ithoughttheotheronebuckedhard,butthisoneistrulyterrifying.Thewayitsbodysuspendsinmid-airasittwists.Thewaysalivafliesfromitsmouthanditseyesrollbackasitunexpectedlychangesdirection.
Ithasmeaudiblygaspingandpressingahandagainstmychesttopushawaytheballoftensionbuildingthere.
Rhettispoetryinmotion.Hedoesn’tfightthebull,it’slikehebecomesanextensionofit.Onehanduphigh,bodyswayingnaturally,neverlosingbalance.
Ichecktheclock,andsomehowthisridefeelsmuchlonger.Itfeelslikehe’sgoingtogetkilledbeforethebuzzersounds.
ThecolorsonthepatchesadorninghisvestblurtogetherasIwatchhim,thesoundofthecrowdandtheannouncerblendingintowhitenoise.Ileanforward,swallowingonadrythroat,eyesdartingbetweenRhett’stonedbodyandtheclock,suckedintotheride.
Andwhenthebuzzerfinallysounds,allthenoiseandmovementcomerushingbackin,everythinginhyperfocusasRhettyanksathishand.
It’snotcomingloose,he’sstruggling,andsuddenlyI’muponmyfeet,watchingwithbatedbreath.
Acowboyonahorsegallopsupbesidehim,andtheyreachforoneanother.Withonesolidtug,hishandcomesfreeandthebullsurgesaheadasthecowboysetsRhettbackdownonsolidground.
Theannouncer’svoicecracklesthroughthespeakers.“Awhopping93pointsforRhettEatontonight,folks.That’sgoingtobeatoughscoretobeatandallbutguaranteeswe’llseehimbackheretomorrownight.”
Thecrowdcheers,butit’snotnearlyaslouditwasforTheo.Infact,it’sborderlinequiet.Rhettstandsinthemiddleofthering,hisshouldersdroopingandhischintippingdowntohischest.Hishandheldprotectivelyagainsthistorso.Hestaresdownatthetoesofhisboots,analmost-smiletouchinghislips,andIswearmyheartbreaksforhiminthatmoment.
Overadecadeofputtinghislifeonthelinetoentertainthesepeople,andthisiswhathegets?
So,Iguessthat’swhyIputtwofingersinmymouthandpulloutthemostuselessskillI’veeverlearned.OneI’vemastered
Iwhistlesoloudthatyoucanhearitovereverything.IwhistlesoloudthatRhett’sheadsnapsupinmydirection.Andwhenheseesmeinthecrowd,grinningbackathim,thesadlookonhisfacewashesaway.
Replacedbyoneofsurprise.
Oureyeslock,andforonemoment,wetraceeachother’sfeatures.Then,almostlikethatmomentneverhappened,heshakeshishead,chucklesunderhisbreath,andlimpsoutofthering,thefringesonhischapsswingingashegoes.
Igathermythingstogomeethimbackinthestagingarea.Iwanttohigh-fivehim.Orgivehimathumbsup.Ordosomeotherequallyprofessionalcelebrationwithhim.
ButnotbeforeIbenddowntothewomanbesidemewhojusttoldmehethinkshe’sGod’sgifttothissportandsay,“Maybeheis.”11Rhett
Kip:Stopgooglingyourself.That’smyjob.YoujustweartheWranglersandridethebulls.
Rhett:Thisistheworstfatherlyadviceyou’veevergivenme.
Kip:JustdowhatSummersays,you’llbefine.Don’tstress.Wegotthis.
Rhett:Stopbeingnicetome.It’sfuckingweird.Andyourdaughterisapaininmyass.
Kip:Don’tbesuchapussy,Eaton.
Rhett:Better.Thankyou.
***
“Rhett!”SomegirlsaregatheredrightbytheexitoftheringwhereIditchmyhelmetandplacethebrowncowboyhatbackonmyhead.Irecognizeafew.Therest…well,Irecognizethetype.“Hellofaride,”onesays,bitingherlipinaveryintentionalway.
“Thanks,”Isayandkeepwalking.Notinthemoodtostopforthem.
Lameasitsounds,partofwhatIloveaboutthisgigistheattentionIgetforbeinggoodatsomething.ItmakesmefeellikeIhavesomethingtooffer,likepeopleareinvestedinme.Andnotjustridingmydicktosaytheydid.
BecauseascloseasIamtomydadandmybrothers,noneofthemhaveevertakenmyjobseriously.It’smorelikethey’reallwaitingformetooutgrowit.Togrowup.AndIhatethat.
IgritmyteethasIwalkthroughthestagingareatowardoneofthelockerrooms.Thesplashofheatburningonmycheeks.Oneofthebestridesofmylife,andthecrowdgavemeafuckinggolfclap.IswearIcouldfeeltheirdisdainforme.
ExceptforSummer.Thatwomansurprisesmeateveryturn.Ican’tfigureoutwhattomakeofher.IthoughtIhadherpeggedasasmuglittleprincess,butI’msecond-guessingthatassessmentmoreeveryday.
“Rhett!”
Istartatthevoice,andwincewhenpainshootsdownfrommyshoulder.IsaidIwouldn’tstop,butI’llstopforSummer.
Istopbecausethere’snoavoidingher.She’srelentless,andshe’sreallyfuckingnice.Whichmakesmefeellikeatotaldickforbeinggrowlyather.
Turningstiffly,Iseeherpetiteformstridingtowardmelikeasplashofcolorinaseaofconcrete,dirt,andbrownfencepanels.She’spairedherdarkyellowsweaterwithaflowingskirtcoveredinsomesortofflowerprintandapairofhigh-heeledboots.Herleatherjacketandpurseareslungoverherarm,andherheelsclickagainsttheconcrete,drawingattentionfromallsides.
Shecarriesherselflikeroyalty,oblivioustotheside-eyeshe’sgettingfromthepeoplebackhere.Especiallythebucklebunnieshangingaroundbythegates.
“Thatwas…”Herdarkeyesgowide,sparklinglikestars,andthosecherrylipspopopenwordlessly.“Justincredible.Ithinkmyheartisstillracing.”
Herexcitementovermyrideisreal—notatallforced.Theskinbeneaththesprinklingoffrecklesacrosshernoseandcheeksisasoftpink,andshesoundsoutofbreath.
Herencouragementshouldn’tfeelthisgood.Ishouldn’tlikethatshe’sexcited.So,Ijustsay,“Welcometothewildside,Princess.”
Iturntowalkaway,wantingtogetthevestoff.Justtheweightofitagainstmyshoulderisagitatingme.IwaveheralongbutsuckinabreathasIdo.Painlancesupintomyneck.
Iheartheclickingofherheelsbehindme,andthenherhandslipsovermyelbow,daintyfingerssplayedoverthejointassheleanscloseandwhispers,“Didyoumakeitworse?”
IgruntbackbecauseIdon’twantabunchofpeopleknowingI’minjured.It’lljustgivethemonemorethingtotalkabout,andI’mnotfeelingterriblytrustingrightaboutnow.
“Let’sjustgetbacktothehotel.”Iwantoutofherebeforeatourdoctorgetswindofthisorbeforesomeoneconvincesmetocomeoutandpartytonight
Herfingersrubgently,makingthefabricofmyshirtraspagainstmyskin.Heatbloomsthroughthejointinanunfamiliarwaybeforeshepullsawaywithastiffnod.
***
Ourdriveintherentalcarfromthearenaissilent,somethingIdon’tentirelymind.Andwhenwe’rebackatthehotel,thesilencecontinuesallthewaythroughthelobby.
Intheelevator,weleanagainstoppositewalls.SomeshittyinstrumentalversionofwhatI’mprettysureisthatsongfromTitanicfiltersthroughthespeaker.Myarmsarecrossed,andhersarepressedbehindher.
Andwestare.Actually,Iglare.Butthisgirldoesn’tbackdown.Myeyesonherdon’tmakehernervous,andshejuststaresrightback.Notsayingagoddamnthing.Likeshecanreadthethoughtsrunningthroughmyhead.
“Staringisrude,Summer.”
Shedoesn’tsmile.“Runningyourselfintothegroundwhenyou’realreadyinjuredisstupid.Youneedtotakecareofyourself.”
“Don’tride,don’tgetpaid,”Ibiteout.Itsoundsharsh—harsherthanIintended—butthisisn’tanewconversationforme.Everyoneinmyfamilytriestogetmetoretire.Theyhaven’tsucceeded,andneitherwillSummer.
“Whatareyoudoingtomanageyourinjuries?Anything?”
Icrossmyarmstighteracrossmybodyandclampmymolarstogether.“Yougoingtoplaynursemaidnowtoo?GoallMaryPoppinsonmyass?”
Shesighsdeeply,shouldersdroopingasshedoes.“Doyourememberthepartwhereshedaydreamedaboutholdingoneofthosekidsdownandgaggingthemwithaspoonfullofsugar?”
Igobacktoglaringnow.
“Yeah,meneither,”shemutters.
Whenthedoorsslideopen,Istormout,leavingherbehind.AndIfeellikeshitaboutnotlettingtheladygofirsttheentirewaytothedoorofmyroomandintothescaldinghotshower.Theguiltalmostoutweighsthepainofremovingallmyclotheswithamangledshoulder.
Butnotquite.
I’vejustgottenoutoftheshower,wrappedatowelaroundmywaist,andampouringaminiaturesizedbottleofcheapbourbonintoaplasticcupwhenIhearaknockatthedoor.
“No!”Ibarktowardthedoor.Thesefuckingbucklebunniesarerelentless.Itwouldn’tbethefirsttimeonefollowedmebacktomyhotel.ButIdon’twantthatrightnow.AndevenifIdid,I’mtoosoretoputouttonight.I’mnotopeningthatfuckingdoorforanyone.
“Yes!”Summerbarksback,bangingagain.“Openup.”
ExceptmaybeSummer.
Isighandtakeahugeswig,theliquorburningdownmythroatasIstrideforwardandpullthedooropenwide.
Summershootsmeadirtylookandbargespastme—withoutbeinginvitedin—towardthedesknearthewindowoverlookingtheparkinglot.Sheplunksaplasticbagontopofitandstartspullingoutsmallboxesandtubesofcream.
“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”Iask,takinganothersip.
“Takingcareofyou,”shemumbles,unboxingabottleofpillswithjerkymovements.
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’retoodumbtotakecareofyourself.Iwentandboughtsomestuffatthepharmacyacrosstheparkinglotsowecantrytopatchyouup.”
“Idon’tneedyourhelp.”
Shemakesthisadorablelittlegrowlingnoisethatsoundslikeanangrykittenasshepropsherpalmsonthedeskanddropsherheaddown,staringattheglossyexpansebetweenherhands.“Hasanyoneevertoldyouwhatamassiveprickyoucanbe?”
Ichuckle,kindofenjoyingseeingherfrustrationbubbletothesurface.Ilikeourverbalsparring.Summercankeepup.She’switty,andIlikethatabouther.“Nope.You’rethefirst.Usually,it’smoreaboutwhatamassiveprickIhave.”
Shehuffsoutaquietlaughbutdoesn’tlookupatme.“Nobodyisgoingtocareaboutyourcockwhenyou’retoobrokentobangthem,Eaton.Nowputsomeclotheson.”
Jesus.Thethingsthatcomeoutofthosecherrylips.
IliftthecupbacktomymouthandwatchSummer.Hershinyhairtuckedbehindherears,herbackrisingandfallingundertheweightofdeepbreaths.
Imustreallyannoyher.AndIkindofgetoffonthat.Ialsogetoffonthewaythewordcocksoundsonherlips.
Whensheturnsherattentionbacktome,oureyeslock,andforthebriefestmomentherstraildownmybarechest,landingonthecheapwhitetowelwrappedaroundmywaist.“WasIunclear?”
AllIdoissnort,swipeapairofsweatsIlaidoutonthebed,andsaunterintothebathroomtogetchanged.WhenIemergebackintothemainpartoftheroom,she’slaidoutanentirepharmacy.
“Shirt,too,please,”shetrills,tidyingallthewrappers.
Iignoreherrequest.Thetruthis,Idon’tthinkIcancurrentlyliftmyarmshighenoughtoputashirton.“Whyareyoudoingthis?”
“Becauseit’smyjob.”
Igoquietbecausedeepdownthat’snottheanswerIwashopingfor.
“Whatdidyouhurt?”
Myeyesdroptoherlips,pursedindispleasure.
Needmorebourbon.
“Myshoulder.”
Shenodsandholdsupabottle.“Youcantakeoneoftheseeverytwelvehours.Andoneofthose”—shepointsatthedesk—“everyfour.Tostart,though,let’sdoubleyouup.”Shepoursoneofeachintoherpalmandmovestostandrightinfrontofme,headtippinguptogazeintomyeyesassheholdsherhandoutflat.“Takethem.”
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’regoingtogetonabulltomorroweitherway.Nopointinsuffering.”Shejigglesherhandatme.Pushylittlethingthatsheis.
Itakethepillsfromherpalmandtossthemintomymouth,holdinghergazetheentiretime,evenasIchasethemwithmylastsipofbourbon.
“Happy?”
“Happier.”Sheturnsawayonasighandgrabstwotubesofcreamoffthetable.“Thisisarnicacream.It’shomeopathicbutIswearitworksanditdoesn’tsmellterrible.IalsogotyouIcyHotthatwillburnandclearoutyournostrils.Don’trubyoureyesafterusingit.Andwhenwegetbackhome,you’reseeingsomeonetohelpwiththis.”
“Wehaveadoctorontour.I’mgood,thanks.I’lldophysiooncetheseasonisover.”
“Thengoseethedoctor.”
“No.”
Hercheeksflush.“Why?”
Isnortbecauseshedefinitelydoesn’tgetit.“He’lltellmenottoride.Everyonetellsmenottoride.”
Hereyeswiden.“Thendon’tride.”
“Ihavetoride.”
“Why?”Hervoiceisfullofdisbelief,likeeveryoneelse’s.Noonegetsit.Thehigh,theaddiction,thethrill.ThatI’llhavetofacefiguringoutwhoIamwithoutit.
Withafewsteps,Itakeaseatontheedgeofthebedandconfess,“BecauseI’mmoremyselfonthebackofabullthanIamanyothertime.I’veonlyeverbeenabullrider.”
Thefrustrationleechesoutofheratthatconfession,andsheregardsmewithsomanyquestionsinhereyes.Ilookdownattheplasticcup,smallandflimsybetweenmyhands,andafterwhatseemslikealongtime,shefinallytalksagain.
“Okay.WhenwegetbacktoChestnutSprings,willyouatleastagreetoletmebookyouamassageoracupunctureappointment?Canwejustmanagethepainresponsiblyforthenextcoupleofmonthsuntilyouwin?”
Myheadflipsup,thetipsofmyhairbrushingagainstthetopofmyshoulders.“YouthinkI’mgoingtowin?”
Allatonce,Ifeellikethelittleboywhosobadlywantsattention,whowishedhismomwastheretoseehimdosomethingimpressive.Thetrouble-makingshitdisturberwhodidn’tcareaboutgettingascoldingbecauseitwasstillattention.Itmeantsomeonecaredaboutme,andasoneoffourkidswithasingledadbreakinghisbacktorunaranch,Isometimesgotlostintheshuffle.
Sheblowsaraspberryasshemovestowardthedoor.“You’repuremagicupthere.Ofcourse,youwill.Nowputyourcreamonandgotobed.”
Mychestwarmsasshereachesfortheknob,andsuddenlyIdon’twanthertoleaveatall.
IwanttohearallabouthowIlooktoher.
It’sfuckinglame.
IclearmythroatandblurtoutwhatI’vebeentryingtofigureoutsinceshementionedthecream.“Idon’tthinkIcanliftmyarmtoputthecreamonmyshoulder.”
Shefreezes,skirtswishingagainstherknees.Onaheavysigh,sheturnsbacktomewithanexpressionIcan’tquiteplaceonherface.Somecrossbetweenannoyanceandsadness.Andthenshe’skickingherbootsoffandpaddingacrosstheroominsockedfeet,swipingbothcreamsoffthedesk,andthencrawlinguponthebeduntilshe’skneelingbehindme.
“Whichshoulder?”Hervoiceistightasherbreathdancesacrossmybareback.
“Therightone.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“Jesus,Rhett,”shebreathes.
“Gettinghunguptonightdidn’thelp.”Nothingworseeitherbecauseyoucanseethedisastercominginslowmotion.Thissenseofpanicsettlesintoyourgutthatyourhandisreallyfuckingstuckinthere.
“Okay,beforetonight,wheredidithurt?”
“Undertheshoulderblade.”
Thetipsofherfingerslandgentlyrightwheretheplateofmyshoulderbladerestsovermyribs,andIshiver.“Here?”
“Jesus,whyareyourhandssocold?”
“Becauseit’sfreezingoutside,andIwalkedtogetyouallthis,dumbass.”Herfingersprodalongthelineoftheblade,andIwince.
“Careful.Yourdadtoldmetokeepmyhandsoffyou.”
“Yeah,well,hedidn’ttellmetokeepmyhandsoffyou.”
Aquiet,stranglednoiselodgesinmythroatasherhandsflutterovermyskin.Somehow,thatonesentencefromherlipshasallmybloodrushinginasingulardirection.Andsuddenly,thingsfeelawkward.Altogethertooquiet.Toopersonal.
“Thankyou,”Imutter,it’ssomucheasiertosaywithoutlookingherintheeye.
Sherestsherhandflatagainstmybackforafewbeatsandquietlyreplieswith,“You’rewelcome.”
Icanhearhersqueezethecreamoutintoherpalmnext,thesoundofherhandsrubbingtogetherasshewarmstheointmentbetweenthem.Andthenshe’sslatheringitovermyshoulder,handsglidingagainstmyskinwithsuchtendernessthatitdoesn’tevenhurt.Shemassagesgently,andIletmyeyesfallshut,myshouldersdroopingwhenIdidn’tevenrealizeIhadthemtensedup.
Herfingerspressandslidedowneverylineofmuscle,downintomymid-back,towardmyspineandoverthetopofmyshoulder.
“Thesemusclesarehardasrocks,”shemutterswithathreadofannoyanceinhervoice.
Yeah,andsoissomethingelse.
Whenherfingertipspushupthelinefromthetopofmyshoulderintomyneck,Igroan.
“Isyournecksoretoo?”
“Itoldyoueverythingissore.”
Shesighsandreachesfortheothertube.Icansmellthemintymedicatedscenttheminuteshesqueezesitout.“Yourneckissorebecauseallthemusclesbeneathitaresofucked.”
“Isthatthemedicaldiagnosis?Fuckedmuscles?”Iaskasshebrushesmyhairaside.
Herrespondinglaughisquiet,butthenherhandsareonmyneck,digitsdigginginatthebaseofmyskullandpullingdown,thumbsworkinghard.AndwhenIgroanthistime,it’sinpleasure,notpain.Ileanintohertouchlikeadoggettingascratchbehindtheear.
Ihateseeingthetourdoctoronthebestofdays,butafterTheSummerTreatment,Iwilldefinitelydreadhisthick,roughhandswhenIcouldhavehercareful,softonesinstead.
Mycockthrobsbetweenmylegs,andI’mmomentarilygratefulformyloosesweatpants.
Atleastshe’llneverknow.
Shespreadsthemusclebalmovermyshoulders,coveringareasshe’salreadysoothed.Andforamoment,Iletmyselfimaginethatshereallylikesthis.Dotingonme.Caringforme.Puttingherhandsonme.Thatit’snotjustajob.Thatsheisn’tjusttryingtoproveherselfinwhatI’massumingisabrutallycutthroatindustry.
Whenshepullsaway,Ibitemytonguetostopmyselffromaskinghertokeepgoing.
Sheswallowsaudiblybeforeshecrawlsoffthebedandstraightensherselfbesideme.“Justmakesureyoucoverthatcreamupwithashirt,soitgetsniceandhot.”
“Okay.Yeah.”Myeyesshiftovertomyluggage,wonderingifI’llbeabletoliftmyarmscomfortablyenoughtopullashirton.
Summermustcatchthelookonmyfacebecauseshesighsdeeplyandmovesovertomyopenbagwhileshakingherhead.“Isthist-shirtokay?”Sheturns,holdingupawell-worngrayshirt.
“Yeah.”Iscrubatmybeard,feelingalittleembarrassedbyherinvolvementhere,butalsorelieved.BecauseI’mtired.Tiredofhurting.Tiredofknowingmybodyisn’tkeepingupbutpretendingit’sfine.It’snicenothavingtopretendinfrontofsomeone.
Shesauntersbacktowardme,gatheringthebodyoftheshirtupandholdingtherightsidearmholeouttomefirstasshecomestostandbetweenmyknees.Isilentlyputmyarmthrough,liftingitaslittleaspossible,andinhaleherscent.Sheevensmellslikecherries.Oncebotharmsarethrough,shestepsevencloser,legsbrushingagainstmyinnerthighassheliftstheneckholeovermyheadandpullsitdown.
AllIcanhearisthebrushoffabricovermyearsandthesoundofusbreathingthesameair.
Thet-shirtfallsovermybody,andshegivesmeaforcedclosed-lipsmile.Shebrushesmyshoulder,asthoughthere’ssomethingthere,andthenquicklyturnsaway.Almostlikeshecan’tgetawayfrommefastenough.
Andwhocouldblameher?I’msuredressingagrown-assmanwasn’twhatsheimaginedforherselfwhenshewentthroughlawschool.
“Thankyou,Summer.”Myvoicecomesoutgravellyinmydrythroat.
“Ofcourse.Justdoingmyjob,”shereplies,pullingherbootsupovertonedcalves.“Youwereincredibletonight.Youshouldbeveryproudofyourself.”
Shesaysitasshewalksout,notlookingmeintheeye.Whichisfine,becauseshe’dseehowmuchitbothersmethatshe’sjustdoingherjob.
Becauseitdoesbotherme,andIcan’tputmyfingeronwhy.
Theworstpartis,itdoesn’tbothermeenoughtostopmefromlimpingovertothebathroomandfuckingmyhandwhilethinkingabouthercherrylipstheminutesheshutsthedoor.12Rhett
Beau:How’sSummer?
Rhett:Seriously?
Beau:Yeah.Areyoubeingnicetoher?
Rhett:WhyiseveryonesoworriedaboutSummer?
Beau:Becauseyou’readickandshe’sreallynice.
Rhett:Oh,yeah.I’msureit’sherpersonalityyou’reafter.
Beau:Itdoesn’thurtthatsheseemsreallysmarttoo.
Rhett:Youdonehere?
Beau:Ialsoreallyenjoylookingather,sothere’sthat.She’slikethetotalpackage,yaknow?
Rhett:Canyoufuckoffnow?
Beau:Sadly,no.You’restuckwithmeforever.Don’tdieouttheretonight!
Rhett:Whatifthatwasthelastthingyoueversaidtome?
Beau:ThenI’dthinktomyself:ifonlyRhetthadlistenedtomygoodadvice.
***
I’msittingontheedgeofmybed,scrubbingatmystubbledfacewithmyhands,whenIhearasoftknockatthedoor.
AsImarchtowardthedoor,IrealizethatwhileI’mstilltired,I’mnotassoreasIwas.Thoughthepaindidwakemeupatonepointinthenight,andIgotuptotakemorepills—whichSummerhadlaidoutinarowforme.
Seeingthemsittingoutlikethatmademychestpinchinacompletelynewway
InthesamewayitdoeswhenIswingthedooropenandseeherpetiteframestandinginthehallway,bundledinapuffydownjacketholdingapapercupofwhatI’massumingiscoffeeinherhand.
“Goodmorning,”shesaysflatly,holdingonecupouttome.SheseemsalittletirednowthatIgetacloserlookather.
“Youokay?”Iask,holdingthedooropenwideforhertocomein.
Summersighswhenshestepsacrossthelineandbrushespastmetowardthedeskwherehermedicinaltreatmentsarelaidout.“I’mfine,”shesays,countingthepillsthatsheleftthere.“Howareyoufeelingthismorning?Youwokeuptotakeapill?Orhaveyoujusthadonethismorning?Youneedtotakethetwelvehourone.”
“Yes,Boss.”Iswaggerover,havinganinternallaughatherfussingovermelikethis.Ionehundredpercentgetoffonit.
Aftergrabbingthepillsandthestaleglassofwater—theonethatstilltastesasmidgelikebourbon—Itossbackthemedicinewhilenotingthedarksmudgesbeneathhereyesandthewayherlashesfluttershutwhileshetakesadeepswigofhercoffeelikesheneedsittosurvive.
“Youlooktired.”
Shetiltsherheadandhitsmewithhermostunimpressedlook.Allwideeyesandpursedlips.“Thankyou.Howcharming.Nowlosetheshirtandgetonyourbed.”
IblinkslowlyasIputtogethertherealmeaningbehindwhatshe’ssaying.“That’sveryforward,Summer.”
“Don’ttestmypatiencethismorning,Eaton.IneedatleastthreecupsofcoffeebeforeIcandealwiththisadorableversionofyou.”
“It’salright.Ilikeitwhenawomanknowswhatshewantsandjustasksforit.”IchuckleasIheadtowardthebed,loweringmyselftotheedgeintheexactspotIsatlastnight.
“Someone’sinagoodmoodthismorning,”shegrumblesassheexchangeshercoffeeforthetwotubesofcreamandtossesthemontothebedbesideme.
Shedoesn’tevenask;shejuststepsupbetweenmylegsandreachesforthebottomhemofmyshirtbeforepullingitup.Nofanfare,nooohingandaahinglikesomewomenhavedoneinthepast.Juststraighttobusiness.
ButIalsodon’tmissthewayhereyessnagonmybodyassheliftstheshirtupandovermyhead.Sheseemsgenerallyindifferenttowardme,butnowandthen,Iswearsomethingflickersbetweenus.
“HowcanInotbe?Youjustcalledmeadorable.”
Sheclambersupbehindme.“Saveitforthebucklebunnies,Rhett.”
Whenherhandstouchmyskin,they’reicecold.Ijump.“Jesus,Summer!You’refreezing.Haveyoubeenoutsidealready?”
“No,”shesaysbeforewordlesslygettingtoworkonmyshoulder.
“Howdoyouknowaboutbucklebunnies?”Iask,tryingtotalkaboutsomethingthatwillkeepmycockfromfixatingonSummer’shandsglidingacrossmyskin.
“Ididn’tshowupatyourranchwithoutdoingsomeGoogleresearch.”
“Huh.”Irollmylipstogether,wonderingwhatshemighthaveseenonthereaboutme,aboutthesport.
Shemassagesmelikelastnight,butitdoesn’tfeelquitethesameinthemorninglight.Somehowlessprivate,thoughnolesskind.Itrynottoreadintohowshewokeup,gotcoffees,andwalkedacrossthehallwaytotakecareofme.Especiallysinceshedoesn’tneedtodothis.
“Whyareyousocold?”
Shesighs,runningathumbintoadeepknot.“Theheatinmyroomisn’tworking.”
“What?”
“Thatradiantheaterthing.”Shepointstowardthemetalgratebeneaththewindowinmyroom.“It’snotworking.”
“So,yousleptinafreezingcoldroom?”
“Yeah.Itwasokaywithmycoatandblankets.I’vesurvivedworse.”
I’msuddenlysittinguprigid,lessfocusedonherhandsthanIamonthefactthataftersleepinginafreezingroomallnight,she’sheretakingcareofme.“Theyneedtogetyouadifferentroom.Didyoucalldownandask?”
“Idid.Thehotelisfull,thankstotheWBRFevent.”
Iturntofaceher,gazetracingthesoftfrecklesacrossherbuttonnose.“Thentheyneedtogetitfixed.Orwe’llmovehotels.”
Shesighsagain,suddenlysoundingjustaswearyassheappears.“Ilooked.PineRiverisn’tbig.Thereareonlysomanyhotels,andthey’reallsoldout.They’regoingtosendmaintenanceovertodaytotakealook.”
“Fuckingright,theyare.”SuddenlyI’mincensedthatshespentanentirenightfreezing.ThatI’vemadeherfeellikeshecouldn’tknockonmydoorandaskforhelp.“I’mgoingtotalktothem.”
“Okay,machoman.”Shelaughsbreathily.“Shutupandletmerubyourback.It’swarmingmyhands.”
AndIlether,becausewhensheputsitlikethat,itsoundsanawfullotlikeshe’senjoyingtouchingme.
***
Ispentmydaydoingafewinterviewsandactingsuitablyhumbledwhenpeopleaskmeaboutmycommentsandactionsregardingthemilkshitstorm.
SummermademepracticetherightfacialexpressiontomakewhilefeedingmelittlepillslikesomesortofPezpainkillerdispenser.
ItoldherI’mnotreallysorry,andshetoldmethatsometimeswedoorsaythingswedon’tmeantomakeotherpeoplecomfortable.It’sasentimentI’vebeenturningoverinmyheadallday.
I’mnotsureshe’sright.
Wewalkedthroughthetradeshowattachedtotherodeo,andwhenfansapproached,she’dstepaway.Alwaysthere…butnotreally.Asthedayworeon,Ifeltlikeabiggerandbiggerdick.Butnotthegoodkind.
Towardtheendofourwalkthroughtherowsofvendors,shefoundaleatherworkerthatmakescustomchapsandtriedonapre-madepair.Theywerecharcoalleatherwithivoryhighlightsandornatesilverdetails.HerasslookedlikeanapplethatI’dtradealimbtobite.
Shecheckedthepricetag,andIsawherconsiderit.I’veonlyknownSummerforashorttime,butIalreadyknowshelikesnicethings.Niceboots,niceskirts—qualitystuff.Butshehesitatedwiththese.
“Youtakingupriding,cowgirl?”I’dteased.
“Ialreadyknowhow.”Shesmiled,afarawaylookonherface.“It’sbeenawhilethough.IwasprettyintoitbutquitwhenIgotsick.”Andwiththat,shehandedthechapsbacktothemanandcarriedonintothecrowd,leavingmetocatchupwithherafterIspentafewbeatsstaringatherperfectlyroundass.Again.Andwishingshe’dstuckaroundsoIcouldaskhermoreaboutherpast.
Now,I’mbackinthelockerroomwiththeotherguys,tryingtogetmyheadinthegame.ButitkeepswanderingbacktoSummer.
Herfingersbrushingmyhairaway.
Herbreathonmyneck.
Herlipswhenshepursesthemindisapproval.
Herassinthosegoddamnjeansandchaps.
“Who’sthehotnewpiece,Eaton?”Emmettasksfromwhere’she’sloungingonabenchacrosstheroom.Idon’thateEmmett,butIdon’tlikehimeither.Andthathasnothingtodowithhimbreathingdownmyneckinthestandingsthisseason.
Hepretendshe’ssowholesome,alltightlycroppedblondhairandbigblueeyesthatthegirlsseemtolosetheirmindsover.Buthe’sasleazebag.Somethingtheyfindoutquicklywhenhetreatsthemlikeshitthemorningafterhegetswhathewants.
Igenerallysticktoaone-nightstand.It’sjustlesscomplicatedthatway.AndI’mnotabovebangingtheoddbucklebunny.I’mjustnotadisrespectfuldickaboutit.ThedifferencebetweenEmmettandmeisIlikewomen…withhim,I’mnotsosure.Iwouldn’twantmysisterstuckinanelevatorwithhim.That’sforsure.
Ialsoknowhe’srevelinginmycurrentscandal.Heseesitasanopportunityratherthansomethingshittythat’shappenedtoafriendorteammate.
Yeah,ItrustthisfuckeraboutasfarasIcanthrowhim.Which,consideringthecurrentstateofmyshoulder,isnotatall.
“She’snotanewpiece,”Ireply,mytonesharperthanIintendasItapemyhandswithoutbotheringtoglanceupathim.
Hechuckles,likeheknowshe’sstruckachordIdidn’tevenknowwasthere.“So,fairgamethen?”
“She’smyagent.So,no.Notfairgame.”
Emmettpropsabootedfootacrosshisknee,knowingthathehastheattentionoftheotherguysintheroomnowtoo.“IthoughtKipHamiltonwasyouragent?”
“Yeah.Andshe’shisdaughter.”
“Hoooboy!”Heslapshiskneeandlaughs,hishillbillyaccentreallyshiningthroughrightnow.“Sonotfairgameforyou.Butfairgameforme.”
Ihuminresponse.I’mprettysureSummercouldhandlethisfuckboywithoutmyhelp,butIdon’tlikethethoughtofit.Notatall.
“Justignorehim.”Theoelbowsmeandmumbles,“Youknowhe’stryingtothrowyouoff.”
“You’resmartforababy,Theo.”
Hesmilesandelbowsmealittleharder.Hisdad,aworld-famousbullriderfromBrazil,wasmymentor,untilabulltookhimfromus.So,I’vetakenTheoundermywing,andImakeitmybusinesstoseehimsucceed.Togivehimallthesupporthisoldmangavetomeonceuponatime.
“Ready,oldman?”Heremoveshisearbudsandcomestostandinfrontofme.Hepullsmeupandthenwe’reoff,walkingthroughthestagingareatowardthedinofthecrowdandtheflashinglightsinthering.
Idrewanothergoodbullfortonight.Arealjumper.Aviciousspinner.He’lltossmelikealawndartorgivemetherideofmylife.LaterGatorisjustthatkindofbull.I’veriddenhimbefore,andhehatedit.ButIlovedmyscore.So,here’shopinghehatesthefeelofmyspursagainsthisribsagaintonightbecauseafterthatexchange,Isureasshitdon’twantEmmettBushleapingmeinthestandings.
Peoplesayhello,butit’sallinmyperiphery.ThisalwayshappenstomebeforeIstepintothering.Theworldmeltsaway,andIhearnothingelse.Iseenothingelse.Myfocusissingular,andIlovethisfeeling.
Otherriderstaketheirturns.ThecheeringandcolorfromthecrowdbecomesabackdropformeandwhatI’mabouttodo.
DoIknowabullcankillme?Yeah.ButIdon’tthinkaboutthat.Halfthebattleinthissportismentaltoughness.IfIthinkthatway,whoknowswhatwillhappen.I’vealwaystoldmyselfassoonasIlookdownatabullandfeelfearratherthananticipation,that’swhenI’llknowmycareerisdone.
Soinstead,Iturnuptheswagger.Theconfidence.Thedevil-may-caresmile.It’samaskmeantforthefansandcompetitorsjustasmuchasit’smeantforme.
Whenmynameiscalled,IshovemymouthguardinandswapmyfavoritebrownhatformyfavoriteblackhelmettoclimbupthefencewhileLaterGatormakeshiswaydownthechute.
Myshoulderissore,reallyfuckingsore,butnotlikeitwasbeforeSummergotherhandsonit.Shedidn’teventrytostopmefromgettingontoabulltonight,somethingIappreciatemorethansheevenrealizes.
Mychinturnsmomentarilytothestandswhereshesatlastnight.Exactsamespot.Amuscleinmychesttwistswhenmyeyeslingeronher,leanedforwardinherseat,elbowsproppedonherknees,onehandoneachcheek.Shelooksnervous.AndnotbecauseshethinksI’llgethurt.Shelookslikeyoudowhenyourfavoritehockeyteamisinashootoutforthewin.
Shelooksinvested
Anditmakesmegrindownatthevibratingtwo-thousand-poundbullbeneathme
Withinmoments,Ijumpdownandrubatthebullrope,therosinwarmsandsoftensasIdosothatIcanwrapitjustthewayIlike.
It’sgoingtobeagoodride.SometimesIhavethisgutfeeling,andIrollwiththatfeeling,lettingitseepintoeverybone.
Theosayssomethingtome,butI’mnotsurewhat.Hesmacksmyshoulder,andIsinkdown,findingmycenterofbalance.Idon’tevenregisterthepain.
ThenInod.
Andthegatefliesopen.
Theangrybullinstantlydropshisrightshoulderintoaspin.Dirtpeltsmyvest,andIfindmybalance,leaningawayfromtheholehecreatesinthatturn.Idefinitelydonotwanttofalldowninthere.
EightsecondsfeelslikeitlastsforeverwhenallyouwanttodoisstayonandkeepyourarmintheperfectLshape.Becauseofmysize,myformneedstobetextbookforalltheanglestoworkinmyfavor.Anditis—that’ssortofwhatI’mknownfor.I’mananomaly.
Ikeepmychindippedtomychest,becauseIknowthisfuckerisgoingtoveerleftatsomepoint.
AndIknowit’sgoingtohurt.
Afewbreathslater,itcomestofruition.Heleapsintheair,twistingliketheathleteheisbeforedroppingandturning.Myshoulderscreams,andIfocusonkeepingmyfingerstightontheropeandmyelbowtuckedtightagainstmyribs.It’sallIcandofornow.
Mybodyriots,butIforceitintoposition,cursingundermybreathasthebullcontinueshistourofdestruction.
Thebuzzersounds,andreliefhitsme.
IusedtofeellikeIcouldgoforeveronthebackofabullbuckinglikethis,butlately,theminutethatbuzzergoes,Iwantoff.There’sthislittlepartofmethatknowsthestatisticsarelessinmyfavoreverytimeIhoponabull.SomethingisboundtohappenafterhowlongI’vebeenatit.
Noonecanbethislucky.
Tonight,myhandcomesfree,andIleapoff,landingonmyfeet.Therodeoclownstakeover,andLaterGatorchasesthemtowardtheoutgatewhileIracetothesidefence.
Standingandcelebratinginthemiddleoftheringalwaysseemsverycinematic—untilyouseeacoupleofunsuspectingguysgetrunoverbyabullthatcomesbackforsecondsbehindtheirback.
Safelyonthesidelines,thefirstplacemyeyesgoistowhereSummerwassitting.Forthesecondnightinarow,she’sonherfeet,whistlinglikeagrizzled,oldsportsfan.Itmakesmelaugh.Whensheseesmelaughing,shegivesmeatimidthumbsup,followedbyashysmile.
Andfuck,itfeelsgood.
Becausethat—rightthere—isnotpartofherjobdescription.13Summer
Dad:How’dtheinterviewsgo?
Summer:Good.
Dad:That’sallIget?Didhebehavehimself?
Summer:Hegaveexcellentinterviews.Thepictureofprofessionalism.Unlikethewayyoutalkabouthim,Kip.He’snotadog,youknow.
Dad:Areyouscoldingyourboss?
Summer:No.I’mscoldingmydad.Unlessyoustillhaven’tfiguredoutyournewemployee’sname.ThenImightscoldmyboss.
Dad:Poor,poorGeronimo.
***
Thisisnotanormallevelofexcitementforapersonwhoissupposedtobedoingajob.WatchingRhettrideabullisathrillI’veneverexperienced.It’sliketheultimateshowofmasculinity.Crazyenoughtoclimbuponananimalthatwantstokillyou.Strongenoughtostayon.Andaccomplishedenoughtolookgooddoingit.
PrettysurethethrobbingbetweenmylegsmeansI’mabucklebunnynow.
IlaughinwardlyatthethoughtasIdartdownthestandstowardthebackstagingarea,flashingmylanyardpassatsecurityasIgo.
Excitementoverhisridemixesinmygutwithconcernthathe’smakinghisinjuryworsebycontinuingtoridewhenwhatheneedsismedicalattention.Butthat’snotmyjob.
MyjobishelpingRhettmaintainhisimage.Takingcareofhim.
Oratleastthat’swhatIkeeptellingmyself,eventhoughI’mprettysureKiphasn’ttakenaroadtripwithanyoftheathletesherepresentsorspentaneveningrubbingtheirmuscularshoulders.
“Hey,Doll.”SomeKen-BarbielookingcowboyisleanedupagainstthewallwhenIroundthecorner.
HereachesformyarminawaythatIdon’tappreciate,butIslinkpast—avoidinghistouch—andbrushhimoffwithaforcedsmileand,“ThenameisSummer.”
Theguysmilesback,butitdoesn’ttouchhiseyes.Whichisrightwhenaleatherglovewrapsaroundmyelbowfollowedbyadeep,raspy,“Hey.”
Rhettdoesn’thavetopullmehard.Mybodymovestowardhimlikebuttermeltsontohottoast.
IturnmybackontheotherguyandlookupatRhett’sstubbled,ruggedfaceFuck.Hereallyishot.I’vebeentryingsohardnottoadmitthattomyself.Buteverynowandthen,justaglimpseofhimhitsmeinthegut.
Hishairisloosearoundhisshouldersandhe’sstillwearingthevestcoveredinsponsorlogosoverabutton-downshirt.Awarmgrayonethistime,unbuttonedjustenoughformetoseethesprinklingofhairacrosswhatIalreadyknowisaperfectlytonedchest.
Iswallow,attemptingtomovemysuddenlydrythroat.“Idon’tevenknowwhatyourscorewas,”Iblurtoutstupidly.“Butyouwereamazing.”
Hiswhiskeyeyesgofrompinchedintheotherguy’sdirectiontowarmandbright.
Atme
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”Itakeastepback,needingtoputalittlespacebetweenusandthetemptingheatofhisbody.“You…”MyhandsflaparoundawkwardlyasIsearchforwhatistheappropriatethingtosaytohim.“Yourodethefuckouttathatbull.”
Rhett’sheadtipsbackasadeep,whole-heartedlaughovertakeshim.HisAdam’sapplebobs,andhisfingersgivemyelbowafamiliarsqueeze.
“Youshouldgetthemtoputthatinanadabouthim.”TheoSilvacomesupfrombesideus,grinning.Handsome,butsodamnbaby-facednexttoRhett.
Heholdshishandsupandslidesthemoutstraight,likehe’simagininganewspaperheadline.“Oldasballsbutcanstillridethefuckoutofabull.”
“Youlittleshit.”Rhett’slefthandshootsoutandplayfullypunchesatTheo’svest.Theylaugh.
Untiltheblondguyadds,“Andeverybucklebunnyontour,”ashesauntersaway.
Andthat’swhenIstepoutofRhett’shold.Becausethatguymaybeadick,buthe’snotwrong.Rhetthasareputation,andIhaveabadhabitoflettingmenIshouldstayawayfrombreakmyheart.
***
Ourdrivebacktothehotelisquiet.Strainedalmost.
Backatthearena,thingsfeltnatural.Iwaslaughing,hewaslaughing,hishandswereonme,andhisfriendwaspokingfunathim.Heseemedhimself.
Andthenthatonesnarkycommentbroughtitallcrashingdownintoreality.BecauseI’mhereworking,andhe’sthegig.It’ssomethingIhavetoremindmyself.
Thistimeintheelevator,wedon’tstareateachother.Atleast,Idon’tstareathim.Instead,IfixateonmybootsasIwigglemytoesinsideofthem.
Icanfeelhimstaringatme,butIdon’tmeethisgaze.BecausewhenIgavehimthatthumbsupandhegrinnedbackatme,mystomachflippedandthenbottomedout.ThesamewayitusedtowhenRobwouldwinkatme,andIcan’tdothatagain.
“Didtheyfixtheheaterinyourroom?”
Ithinktheonlythingaccomplishedbyhimflashinghissmileatthewomanatthefrontdeskwhileinquiringabouttheheaterinmyroomthismorningwasherslidinghernumbertohimacrossthecountertop.Anycomprehensionofwhathewastalkingtoheraboutwasgonetheminuteshecaughtsightofhim.
I’dbeenwaitinguntilwewereoutofearshottocrackajokeaboutit.Butassoonaswewalkedaway,hecasuallydroppedthepieceofpaperwithhernumberonitintoagarbagecaninthelobby.
“I’mnotsure.Ihaven’tbeenbacktomyroom.”
WhenIchancealookupathim,hiseyesdartaway,andhenodshishead.
“How’syourshoulder?”Iask,realizingIhaven’tcheckedyet.
“Notworse.”
“Good.”Ilickmylipsandrubthemtogether.“That’sgood.”
“Listen.AboutwhatEmmettsaid…”HetrailsoffandIholdupahand.
“Youdon’tneedtoexplainathing.”
“IfeellikeIdo.I’mnotreallylikethatanymore.”Hesoundsalmostdesperate.
“Truly,it’sfine.”Justtalkingabouthimwithotherwomenmakesagnawingsensationtakerootatthebaseofmythroat.Ishimmymyshouldersthen,standinguptaller,refusingtocurlinonmyself.
“I’vesownmywildoats,butalargepartofwhatyouseeinthemediaisgrosslyexaggerated.I’mnotapig.”
“Rhett.”Idon’tknowwhyheneedstokeeptalkingaboutthis.“Iknow.Iknow.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseI’vegluedmyselftoyoufordaysonendnow,andyouhaven’tdoneasinglethingtomakemethinkyouare.You’vebeenaperfectgentleman.”
Westareateachothernow,andmylipstwitch.“Agrumpy,stubborngentleman.”
Hehuffsoutalaughandshakeshishead.Theelevatordings,andthemomentevaporates.Wewaveandsayourgoodbyesbeforedisappearingintoourrooms.
Or,Ishouldsay,hedisappearsintohiswarmone,andIdisappearintomycoldone.Becausetheyclearlydidn’tfixshit.
Iopttohaveahotshower,layerup,andcrawlundermycoverstodreamaboutthecozyroomI’vebeenassignedatWishingWellRanch.Thehotcoffeeinthekitcheneverymorning.Thecharmingfamilydinnerswhereallthemenontheranchfileintothemainhousetomakefunofeachotherwhilecookingameal.
Butfirst,myphonerings.
Rob’snameflashesacrossthescreen.Hecallsnowandthenwhenthecoastisclear.AndIknowIshouldn’tanswer,butourconnectionsaresotangledthatit’shardtotellrightfromwrongwherehe’sconcerned.
“Hey,what’sup?”Ishuckoffmybootsandflopintothearmchairinthecorner.
“Checkingtoseehowyou’refeeling.”
Healwayssaysthat,andIdon’tbelievehimanymore.
“I’mfine.What’sup?”
“IsawyouonTVtonight.”
Mybrowsknittogether.“Forwhat?”
“Atarodeo.Givingthumbsuptosomebullrider.”
Ah.Thereitis.Anytimeheseesmepotentiallymovingon,heswoopsin.IusedtothinkitmeantIhadachancetogethimback.Now,I’moldenoughtoknowit’shispowerplay,it’showhekeepsmeinline.Underhisthumb.
Heseesmyattentionshift,andhedanglesacarrotintomylineofvision,thinkinghe’llmakemelosefocus.Theproblemis,I’mnotallthatintocarrotsthesedays.I’mfavoringwhiskeyandleather.
“Yup.Listen,istheresomethingwrong?Igetworriedwhenyoucallmethatsomethingiswrong.”
“Ijustworryaboutyou.Youneedtobecareful.Specificallywithguyslikethat.”
Ialmostscoff,butthere’sstillthispatheticpartofmethatpurrswhenhesaysthingslikethat.Thingsthatmakemefeellikehecaresaboutme.Robhasgroomedmealmostbeyondrepair.
“I’mgood,thanks.Don’tneedyoulookingoutforme.”Mypatiencefrays.I’mtired.I’mcold.Andtruthbetold,I’mhorny.Thisweekendhasbeenjam-packedfulloftoomuchtestosteroneforonesimplecitygirltowithstand.
IalsohavetoconfessIdon’tappreciatehimtalkingaboutRhettthewayheis.
“Listen…”
“Yup,”Icuthimoff.“It’sbedtimeformehere.We’llchatatmynextappointment.Bye.”Ihanguponhim.
Agitated,butalsocastbackintime,Istayinthechair,lostinmemoriesofRobandmytimeswithhim,forIdon’tknowhowlong.
AllIknowisIcan’tfeelmytoeswhenaknockatthedoorpullsmeoutofmyjogdownmemorylane.Iwoodenlymovetowardthedoor,tryingtoshakemychilledlimbsoutasIgo.WhenItugthedooropen,Rhettisfreshlyshowered,smellingdelicious,andlookingevenbetter.
Hisarmsareacrosshischestandhiseyesperusethefulllengthofmybody—cream-coloredsweaterdressandcamelpeacoat.WhenIpulledthecoaton,itremindedmeofRhett’schaps.
Iworeitbecauseitlookedgood,notbecauseit’sallthatwarm.Andnow,withhiseyestracingmybody,Ishiver.
“So,you’recold.”Hisjawpopsashisteethgrindtogether,andhepushespastmeintotheroom.“Summer.It’sfuckingfreezinginhere.”Thebiteinhisvoicemakesmeflinch.“Ithoughttheywerefixingthistoday.”
Ileanagainstthewall,kindofenjoyingwatchinghimstalkaroundmyroomlikeacaveman.Theonlythingmissingisaclubinhishand.“Iguesstheydidn’t.”
“You’renotsleepinginhere.”Hishandslandonhishipswhenheturnsandstaresatmesquareintheeye.
“Oh,yes.I’lljusttakemypillowandblanketoutintothehallwayandsleepthere.”IsmileatRhett,buthedoesn’tsmileback.
“Don’tberidiculous.You’llsleepinmyroom.”
Iblinkslowlyafewtimes,waitingforthepunchline.Andwhenitdoesn’tcome,Iburstoutlaughing.“That”—Ipointathim—“isnothappening.”
“I’llsleepinthechair.Youcanhavethebed.”
“Thatwillbejustgreatforyourshoulder.Nochance.”
“ThenI’lltakemypillowandablanket,andI’llsleeponthefloor.”
“Rhett,”Iscold,heatburningovermychestathowpushyhe’sbeing.“I’mnotdoingthat.We’renotdoingthat.”
Hesmirksnow,cockyprickheis.“Why?Youworriedyouwon’tbeabletoresistme?”
Myjawdrops.“Rude.Andno.I’mmoreworriedImightaccidentallyholdapillowoveryoursmug,prettyfaceuntilyoustopbreathing.Ihaveasweatsuit.I’lldresswarm.I’llbefine.”
Heturns,andinafewstridesheflipsthetophalfofmysuitcaseclosed,andIstandfrowningathimashezipsmybagshut.
“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“AllIheardwasthatyouthinkIhaveaprettyface,”hesaysashemarchespastme,rollingmysuitcasebehindhimself.
“Ofcourse,youmissedthepartaboutmewantingtokillyou.”
Whenhegetstothedoor,hewavesahandoverhisshoulderandpushesoutintothehallway.“Keepup,Princess.Killme,don’tkillme.Atleastyou’llbewarm.You’rewithmetonight.”14Summer
Willa:Didyoubanghimyet?
Summer:Goodnight,Willa.
Willa:Youonlyliveonce,youknow.Thisisastoryyoucouldtellyourkidsoneday.
Summer:Whatthefuckkindofstoriesdoyouplanontellingyourchildren,Wils?
***
IassessmymatchingbraandpantiesinthemirrorofRhett’sbathroom.AsetIsplurgedon.AsilverysilkthatI’mobsessedwith.Icontemplatetakingthemoffandjustslippingintothematchingdustypinksweatpantsandsweatshirtthat’sfoldedonthecounterbesideme.
I’moverthinkingthis.
IfIkeepthelingerieon,whatdoesitmean?Doesitmeananything?IfIgooutthereandpulloutadifferentbraandpanties,I’lljustdrawattentiontomyself.AndifI’mbeinghonest,noneofmyothersetsareanybetter.I’manabsolutewhoreforfancylingerie.
Longmonthsspentinahospitalgownhavemademeappreciateallthingsthatmakemefeelpretty.Sexy.Eventheangryredscardownthecenterofmychestdoesn’ttakeawayfromthatformeanymore.I’veoutgrownthatinsecurity.
Butisgoingnakedunderneaththesweatsuitanybetter?
Yes.It’smorecasual.Morecomfortableforsure.
IpullmybradownandamabouttoflipitaroundtoundotheclaspswhenIcatchsightofmybreastsinthemirror.
Fullandpale.Andpeakedwithrock-hardnipples.
“Fuckmylife,”Imutter,pullingthebrabackupandreplacingthestraps.
BraitisbecauseI’mnotfacingRhettEatonwithfullheadlights.
Isliponthesweatsuitandneatlyfoldmyotherclothesbeforemakingmywaybackintothebasichotelroom.
Thebasichotelroomwithonequeen-sizebed.Andaqueen-sizebedhasneverlookedquitesosmallasitdoesrightatthismoment.Deepdown,IknowIcan’tletRhettsleeponthefloor.Notwiththecurrentstateofhisbody.Itwouldn’tbefair.
I’mstillchilledfromsittinginmyice-coldroom,andIshiverwhenIcatchsightofhimstandingatthedoorwaytalkingtosomeone.Hisbroadshouldersdonothingbutpronouncethetaperofhiswaist,whichdoesnothingbutpronouncehisniceass.
LettingmyeyestrailoverRhettEatonislikespendingtimeatanamusementpark.Eachpartisbetterthanthelast.Whenheturnstofacemewithtakeoutboxesinhislargehands,mymindflashestohowtheymightfeelonmybareskin.Big,warm,andcalloused.
HelooksnothinglikethemenI’vegrownaccustomedtospendingtimewith.They’reallpaleandsmooth—wellmanicured.Somehavebeenfansofliteralmanicures.
Rhettisweathered,hist-shirttanlinefromlastsummerstillfaintlynoticeable.Andwhenhesmiles,theskinbesidehiseyescrinklesinthemostgenuineway.
Hiswork-hewnhandswouldfeellikeheavenslidingovermyskin.
Ishiveragain,butthistimeIdon’tthinkit’sbecauseI’mcold.
“Food?”heasks,knockingmerightoutofmytreacherousthoughts.
“Uh,”Ireply,scramblingtocomeupwithsomethingtosaythatdoesn’tinvolvemewonderingoutloudhowitwouldfeeltobeman-handledbyhim.“I’mgood.”
Hequirksabrow,likehedoesn’tbelieveme,andstridesovertothebed.Foodinhand,heperchesontheendofthemattressbeforeflickingontheTV.Thechannelsflipuntilhelandsonsometypeofgladiatorshowwherepeopleworktheirwaythroughanextremeobstaclecourseanddotheirbestnottodie.
“Youjustgonnastandthere,Princess?”
Mymouthopensandclosessilently.Iamseriouslynotfiringonallcylindersrightnow.
“Haveyoueaten?”Heopensthewhitebox.
“No.”Iworrymybottomlipbetweenmyteeth.IalreadyfeellikeI’mimposinginhisspace,soIcan’twaltzinhereandstealhisfoodontopofthat.
“Summer.”Heshakeshisheadandtossesanapkintowardthebed’soppositecorner.“Sit.Youneedtoeat.”
Imovetowardthebedandfoldmyselfontotheedge,sittinginakneelingpositionacrossfromhim.“I’mgood.Youneed…”
“What?”Hesqueezesapacketofketchupintotheboxthat’sfulloffries.
“Isthishowyou’reeating?”
Hechucklesbutkeepssettinghislittlespreadupinfrontofhimself.
“Rhett,you’reanathlete.Youcan’ttreatyourbodythisway.”IglanceattheFrenchfriesinonecontainerandbuffalochickenwingsintheother.“Thisfood?Thelackofphysicaltherapy?Areyouevenworkingout?”
Hegrinsatmenow.“Why?DoyouthinkIlookgood?”
“Ithink…”Myeyesroamoverhimagainashisleatherscentblendswiththetangofthewings.“Ithinkyoulooklikeyou’rerunningyourselfintotheground.Ifyou’regoingtowin,youneedtobebettertoyourself.”
“Ilikethewayyouputthat.YoumightbetheonlypersonIknowwhoisn’tonmyasstoretire.”
Mystomachpicksthismomenttogrowllikeagrizzlybear.
“Listen,boss,ifyoueatsomething,I’llletyoupampermehowyouseefitforthenexttwoweeksuntilthenextrodeo.IfI’dknownyouwerecoming,I’dhaveorderedmore.Wecanordermore.Justsharethiswithmefornow,soIwon’tdrownintheguiltofholdingastarvinggirlhostageinmyroom.”
“IfIeat,you’lldowhatItellyoutoforthenexttwoweeks?”
Hestaresbackatme,allwhiskeyeyesandstubbleandunrulyhair.Buthisexpressionissincere.“Yes.”
Isighinresponse.“Okay,fine.Deal.”
Henods,butwe’restuckinthatweirdlimbowherewestareateachother.Likewewanttosaymorebutdon’tknowwheretostart.
Iopttobreakthetensionbyreachingforafryandshovingitinmymouth.Rhettsmilesanddoesthesame.
Wewatchtheshow,gaspingwhenpeoplefallandcheeringwhentheyseemlikethey’reonaroll.Ithinkthefoodtastesbetterjustbecausewe’resittingatthefootofashittyhotelbed,legscrossed,takeoutcontainersspreadoutbesideus.
“IthinkIcoulddothis,”Ifinallyannounce.
“Yeah?”Helooksatmecuriouslybeforepointingatthechickenwingbox.“That’syours.”
Ipeerdownandseethelastwing.“Youshouldhaveit,”Itrytoargue.
“Nochance.”Rhettlickshislipsashestaresatthescreen,andIcan’tlookaway.“Youneedyourenergytoputupwithme.Haveit.”
Iswearthatonelittledrumstickisstaringbackatme.Daringmetomakethismeanmorethanitdoes.Butgivingmethelastpieceisjustso…sweet.Ialmostcan’treconcileit.Ialmostwanttoaskmyselfwhatitmeans.
ButevenIdon’twanttobethatpathetic.So,Iliftthewingandstarttakingbiteswhilegettingbacktomylaststatement.“Yeah,IthinkIcoulddothis.IthinkI’mstrongenough.”
“Smartenough,too.Ithinkhalfthebattlewiththeseishavingastrategy.Youcan’tjustbruteforceyourwaythroughit.Youknow?”
Ipolishoffthewing,nodding.Becausehe’sright.Andmyheartisallaflutteroverhiscompliment.“Thanks,”Isaywithasmile.
Hesnorts.“You’rewelcome.Butyou’vegotsauceonyourface.Abigoldsmudgeofit.”
Immediately,Ishootahandovermymouth.“Where?”
“Kindahardtoseewithyoucoveringhalfyourface.”
“ButtheminuteImovemyhand,you’regoingtolaughatme.”Ishiftbackupontomyknees,asomehowlessvulnerableposition.
Hissmilewidensasheleanscloser.“Oh,absolutely.”
IletoutanexasperatedgroanasIdropmyhandandgazeupattheceiling.“Fine.Tellmewhereitis.I’mtootiredtogotothebathroom.”
Afterafewbeats,whenmyeyesgobacktoRhett,he’snotlookingmeintheeyeanymore.He’slookingatmymouth.
No.He’sstaringatmymouth.
Hishandmovestowardme,andmybreathhitchesinmylungs.I’mlikeadeercaughtinheadlights,tooshockedandmesmerizedtorunfromdanger.
“It’sright…”Hisvoiceislowandrough.AndIcan’tstopstaringathisexpression.Thewayhe’swatchingmymouthisalmostfilthy,likeIcanreadeverythoughtflashingthroughhismindwithouteventrying.
Mylipspopopen,eversoslightlyatthethoughtofhimclosingthedistance,grippingmyhead,andpressinghislipstomine.GivingmeatasteofwhatI’vefantasizedabout.
He’sleanedclosewhenhisgentlefingerscupthebottomofmychin.Histhumbhoversoverthecleftthere,likehe’squestioningtouchingmeatall.
Whenthepadofhisthumbbrushesjustbeneathmylowerlip,it’sfeatherlight.Itmakesthehaironmyarmsstandonendandmyeyesfluttershut.
Buthedoesn’tstop,doesn’thesitate.
Histhumbcaressesovermytoplip,astrangledgroancatchinginthebackofhisthroat.Mybreathingbecomesmorelabored,andwhenIcatchsightoftheexpressiononhisface,I’mpanting.
Thewayhe’slookingatme…it’snotpolite.It’sprimal.
Ileanforward—rightintohim—seekinghistouch,seekingthepromiseinhiseyes.AndImakenomovetodistancemyselffromhim.
Whenhisthumbmakesitsnextswipe,it’sovermybottomlipandthistimeit’srougher,pressingmylipdowntothesidewhilehiseyesgomolten,hisbodyheldtaut.
“There,”hegrowls,stilltransfixedbymymouth.
“Rhett,”Ibreathe,notsurewhatelsetosay.Mynipplesraspagainstthesilkcupsofthebra,andthetrimofmypantiesgrazemycoreinawaythathasmesighinglouderthanisappropriate.
“Mm.”Hiseyesflickuptomine,andthere’saquestionintheirdepths.IswearifIclosedthedistancebetweenus,he’dmakemegladIdid.
Buthiscareerishangingbyathread,andIpromisedtohelp.Tobeaprofessionalwhocanhandleworkingwithathletes.AndknowingwhatIknowofRhettEaton,myheartwouldbeinshamblesrightalongwithhisreputationifweweretoclosethedistancebetweenus.
“Weshouldgotosleep.”Iclearmythroatandsitback,pullingaway.
IknowImadetherightdecision.Eventhoughmyreliefislacedwithdisappointment.ThesamedisappointmentIseeflashacrosshisfaceashejoltsbacklikeI’veslappedhim.
Butitdisappearsquickly,replacedbyablankfaceandeyesthatwon’tmeetmineashesilentlystartstidyingtheroom.
***
Wealmostkissed.
That’sthethoughtplayingonrepeatinmyheadasIliehere.Inhisbed.
I’mnewtoajobthatrequiresmetoworkwithhotathleteseverydamnday,andafterashortamountoftimebeingoutinthewildwithone,I’mconfusedasfuck.
Excellentwork,Summer.
Theblanketfeelslikeit’srubbingtooheavilyagainstmyskin,andmyheartispoundingerratically.Evenunderthecovers,Ican’tseemtoshakethechill.Ialmostgotuptogetmyselfapairofsocks,butIdon’twanttodisturbRhett.
I’vebeenlyinginthedarkroomforIdon’tknowhowlong,listeningtoRhettbreathing,thehumoftheheatereverytimeitturnson,thedingoftheelevator,andthedullthudoffootfallsinthehallwayfollowedbyhushedvoicesasotherpeopleheadtotheirrooms.
Sleephasevadedmesofar,andbasedonthewaymymindisspinning,itwillcontinuetohoverjustbeyondmygrasp.EspeciallysinceallmythoughtsandfeelingsareblendingtogetherwithanintensesenseofguiltthatRhett’sinjuredandsleepingonthefloor.
Iwasstilltootongue-tiedtoputupafightwhenhegrabbedwhatheneededandsethimselfuponthecarpet.
Asighthatbordersonagroanfiltersfromwherehe’ssleeping.
“Areyouawake?”Iwhisper.
“Yeah,”hegrumbles,shiftingaround.
“Areyousore?”
“No.”
Irollmylipstogetherandstareatthefirealarmaboveme,thetinygreendotapointtofixmygazeon.“Areyoulying?”
Hegruntsinresponse,whichI’malmostcertainmeanshe’slying.
“Rhett.”
“Summer.”Hesoundsexasperatedwithme.
“Stopbeingdifficultandcomesleepinthebed.”
Silencefillstheroom,andIwonderifheheardmeatall.
“Idon’twanttomakeyouuncomfortable,”herasps.
Ialreadyam.Uncomfortablyhorny.ButIdon’tsaythat.“Youwon’t.What’smakingmeuncomfortableisthatyou’resleepingonadirtyfloorwithaninjuredshoulderorback.Getyourassuphere.”
Heblowsoutadeepbreathinresponse,andIheartherustlingofblanketsashisformtakesshapeacrosstheroom.Whenhecomestositonthebed,themattressdipsbeneathhimandhescrubsathisface.Thesoundofhisstubbleraspingagainsthishandsismorepronouncedinthedark.
“Yousure?”
Hisshouldermustbesoreforhimtohavegiveninsoeasily.
“Eaton,stopbeingsuchapussyandgetinhere.Ithoughtyouweregoodathoppinginandoutofwomen’sbeds.”Ilifttheblanketandscootovertomysidetomakeextraroomforhim.
Hechucklesashemovesunderthecoversanddropshisheadontothepillowhebroughtwithhim.“Mostwomenaren’tasterrifyingasyou.”
“Yeah,right.”Ituckthecoverstightaroundmyself,asthoughthey’llprotectmefromthescentofliquoriceandleatherthatenvelopsme.AsifIwon’tfeeltheheatofhisbodysidledupclosetomineandletmymindwander.
Heliesflatonhisback,handsclaspedoverhischiseledabs.Because,offuckingcourse,he’snotwearingashirt.
Whenhiselbowbumpsme,Itrynottostart.“Imean,youtoldmeyouweregoingtokillmeinmysleep.Ihavesomesenseofself-preservation,youknow.”
“Yourideangrybullsforaliving.I’mreallynotsosureaboutthat.”
Hehuffsoutasmalllaugh,andwefallintoanuncomfortablesilence.
So,liketheawkwardmessIam,Iblurtout,“Where’syourmom?There’sanawfullotoftestosteroneoutatthatranch.Totalsausagefest.”
“She’sgone.”Hisvoicegentles.
“Yeah.Minetoo.”
Hisheadturnsinmydirection.“Really?Ithoughtyouhadanoldersister.IknowI’veheardKiptalkabouthiswife.”
Myfacescrunches.“Yeah.Funnystorythat.”
“Icouldusealaugh.”
“Thenannyismymom.”
Rhett’sbodygoesrigidbesideme,andIlaugh.Thisstoryalwayshorrifiespeople.“Comeagain?”
Iclearmythroatandreachuptopushmyhairoffmyforehead.“Kipwasgettingbusywiththenanny.Andta-da!Alongcameme.”
“Shit.”IwishtherewerelightsoIcouldseehisfacerightnow.
“Yeah.Prettymuch.Mymotherwastravellingfromabroadwhensheworkedatourhouse.Shebasicallyhadme,signedmeovertomydad,andwentbackhome.Idon’teventhinkIblameher.I’mnotsureI’dwanttobetiedtotheaftermathofthat.”
“That’s…well,that’sreallyfuckedup.”
Ilaughandknowhe’slookingatmelikehecan’tquitedecidehowtotreadintothis.Mostpeopledon’t.
“Whendidyoufindout?”
Myeyebrowsrise.Thisisusuallywhenpeoplepromptlychangethesubjectandrunlikehelltowardanothertopic.“IthinkI’vealwaysknowninsomeregard.Mystepmommadesurethatwasthecase.”
“Shestuckaround?”
“Shesuredid.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.Idon’tgetiteither.Particularlysinceshe’salwaysgoneoutofherwaytomakethingsstrainedbetweenus.Betweenmysisterandme.Betweenherandmydad.Ialmostfeelbadforher.Iknowheshouldn’thavecheatedonher,obviously,butit’slikeshestuckaroundjusttomakeeveryoneelsemiserable.Iwishshecouldbehappy.”
“Whatdoesshedo?”Iknowhe’sthinkingshestuckwithKipforthemoney.
“She’sasurgeon.Justlikemysister.Orjustlikemysisterwillbe.”
“Wild.”Hesoundsgenuinelyshocked.“Andyouandyoursister?”
“Complicated.”Really,reallyfuckingcomplicated.“She’s…well,she’sprettymuchthepolaroppositefromme.Looks.Personality.Shit,hernameisevenWinter.Ithinkinmydad’smisplaceddesiretohaveusbeonebighappyfamily,hetriedtostickwithatrendofseasonalnames,andinsteadwe’vejustbeenpittedagainsteachother.Eveninmomentsthatweweren’tawareofit.”
Silencestretchesbetweenus.“I’msorryyougrewupwiththat,”hemurmurs.
“Yeah,well,weadapt.Ipreferthevibeatyourranch.”
“Haveyouevertriedtofindyourmom?”
Isuckinasharpbreath.“No.Ifshewantedtoknowme,shecouldeasilyfindme.Butsheneverhas,andIdon’twanttobeaburdentosomeoneIdon’tevenknow.”
He’ssilentatthat,soafterafewdrawn-outmoments,Iask,“Whathappenedwithyourmom?”
“Shediedgivingbirthtomylittlesister.”
Idon’thesitateasIinchcloser,pressingmyarmagainsthis,hopingtoprovidesomesortofgentlecomforttohimnowthatwe’vetraveleddownthispath.Straightintoheavyconversation,sharingsecretsinthedark.
“I’msorry,Rhett.”
“Iwasnotquitetwo,soIdon’trememberher.Actually,Ithinkthat’stheworstpart.Imissedoutonthiswholefacetoflife.I’llnevergettoexperiencehavingamom.Andmydadnevermovedon.”
Nodding,Isay,“Icanrelatetothat.Butyouknow,atleastyourmomwantedyou.”Isoundterriblytragicsayingthat,butIblurtitoutbeforeIcanthinkbetterofit.“Mydadhasspenthisentirelifeprovingtomehelovesme,andIthinkalotofthatistomakeupfortheclusterfuckthatiseveryoneelsearoundme.”
“Kippissesmeoffsometimes.”IsnortbecauseKipHamiltondoeshaveaknackforpissingpeopleoff.“ButIcanseehimbeingagooddad.Afunnyone.Aprotectiveone.Obviously.Canwenottellhimaboutthisbed-sharingthing?”
Webothlaugh.Thinkingofhisthreats.Theruleshesetoutforus.
“Yeah.Ittookmeawhiletoreconcile,youknow”—myhandsflapinfrontofme—“thecircumstancesofmybirth.Thatmydadcanbeaflawedbutgoodman,allatonce.WhenIwassick,hestayedwithmeeveryday.Heliterallyworkedfrommyhospitalroomandsleptinthechairinthecorneruntilsomenursetookpityonhimandsnuckhimacot.”
Myvoicebreaks.Thisalwaysgetsme.Thatkindoflove,well,it’sscarce.Someonewhodoesn’tleaveyourside,nomatterwhat.Unlikemymotherorstepmother.
Thistime,Rhettreachesdownandtentativelythreadshisfingersthroughmine,givingmyhandagentlesqueeze.HiscallousesraspagainstmyskinjustlikeIknewtheywould,andagainstmybetterjudgment,Idon’tpullaway.
“Ididn’tknow,”isallhesays,andsomehow,thatsimplesentenceandthefeelofhiswarmhandbringsmecomfort.
“Yeah,lotsofhealthissuesgrowingup.Turnedouttobeanundiagnosedcongenitalheartdefect.Fixablewithsurgery,exceptsurgerywentwrong,andtherewerecomplications.Bigscaryones.Plus,anicelingeringinfection.Kindofkilledmyteenagedyears.Justreallyhadtogoalloutonmakingmyselfanextraburdenandallthat.”
Hesqueezesmyhand.“Idoubtheseesitthatway.”
IsmileintothedarkbecauseIknowmydaddoesn’tseemethatway.Notatall.Andit’snicetohearsomeoneelsenoticethattoo.NoticethatIhavejustasmuchrighttothatconnection,thatIdon’tneedtofeelguiltyaboutlovingmydad—nomatterhowcomplicatedhemightbe.
So,IsqueezeRhett’shandbackandturntowardhim,feetcrossingovertohissideofthebed.Seekingwarmth.
“Jesus,Summer.”Hestartlesbutdoesn’tmoveaway.“Yourfeetarefreezing.”
Ipullthembackinstantly,gratefulthathecan’tseemeblushinginthedark.“Sorry!”Iwince,sorrierthatItookthefreedomoftouchinghimlikethatwhenthingsarealreadysotenuousbetweenustonight.
“Theonlythingyoushouldbesorryforisnottellingmeyouwereanicecube.Ishouldhaveknockedonyourdoorearlier,”hegrumps,rightashislonglegsstretchacrossthebedandhetanglesthemwithmine,capturingmyfrozenfeetbetweenhiscalves.
“Okay,”myvoicecomesoutbreathyasthewarmthfromhisbodyseepsintomine.Heatingmefromtheoutsidein.
Andwefallquiettogether.Iheartheevenrhythmofhisbreathsandfeelhisexhaleacrossmychest.Ifallasleeplikethat,lulledbythegentlesteadysoundsofhim,bythesolidcomfortofhim.Myhandheldtightinhis,myfeetcradledagainsthisskin,andmyheartwarmwrappedupinhiswords.15Rhett
Kip:Sawtheinterviews.Youdidwell.Youbeinggoodtomygirl?
Rhett:Thanks.Ilaidawakeallnight,hopingI’dgetyourstampofapproval.Andofcourse,Iam.
Kip:Butnottoogood,right?
Rhett:IsthatwhatI’maimingfor?Good,butnottoogood?It’sawonderyouraisedanadultasfunctionalasSummer.
Kip:Whyaren’tyoucomplainingabouther?
Rhett:Becausesheisn’tsobad.
***
I’msofucked.I’msuperfucked.I’msosuper-megafucked.
Summerwasalsoright.I’mamassiveprick.BecauseI’vebeenawakeforthebetterpartofanhour,lettinghercuddleme.Staringather,tryingtomemorizeeverylittlefreckle.WatchinghersleeplikealovesickTedBundyorsomething.
IwokeupwhenIfelthernuzzleagainstmybicep,andwhenIslowlyopenedmyeyes,IwasasclosetohermouthasIhadbeenthenightbefore.WhenI’ddoneeverythingIcouldtonotlickthathotsauceoffherlipslikeagoddamnsavage.
Butnowshe’sonme.Thighslungovermylegs,justbelowwheremymorningwoodissalutingtheworld—Summerspecifically.
Hersmallpalmpressesagainstthecenterofmychest,whilehercheekrestsagainstmyarm.She’sevenstillclutchingmyhand.Somethingthatmakesanachethrobinmychest.
I’mtryingtobeagentleman.Ireally,reallyam.ButIalsohaven’tfailedtonoticehowhersweatshirthasriddenuphermid-section.Thewaythewaistbandofhersilkyunderwearispeekingoutfromhersweatpants.
Tauntingme.
IwanttododistinctlyungentlemanlythingstoSummerHamilton.ButIalsowanthertowarmhercoldfeetuponmeagain.Anytimeshewants.Thethoughtofherbeingcoldanduncomfortableinfuriatesme.
Iwanttotakecareofher,eventhoughshedoesn’tneedtakingcareof.
It’shonestlyreallyfuckingconfusing.It’salsoaterriblefuckingidea.Butthen,goodideashaven’teverbeenmyforte.Whystartnow?
Shestirs,andIlookathershutteredeyesagain.Softlashesdrawndown,asmatteringoffrecklesoverthebridgeofhernoseandtheapplesofhercheeks.Iwonderiftheyshowuponanyotherpartsofherbody.
Mycocksurges,andIdon’tthinkIcanblamemycurrenterectiononmorningtimephysiologyanymore.It’sjustastraightbonerbecauseIwanttobangmyagent’sdaughter.
Andthensnuggleher.Traceherfreckles.
Goddamn.Iscrubmyfacewithmysparehandandberatemyselffornotsuckingitupandsleepingonthefloor—nomatterhowbadlyithurt.Itcouldn’thavebeenworsethanthisrealization.
Ipeelmyselfawayfromher,tryingtoextricatemytangledlimbsandfeelings.
ButwhenIsilentlyfuckmypalmintheshowerminuteslater,I’mnotallthatsureI’vesucceeded.Especiallysinceit’shernameonmylipswhenIspillmyselfonthebaseoftheporcelaintub.
***
“You’llbepleasedtohearthatwhileIwasusingtherestroomontheflightback,Summerorderedmeaglassofmilk.”
Summersnortsandtakesanotherbiteofthesconeinherhand.
Fromtheoppositesideofthebreakfasttable,Beaucacklesovertherimofhiscoffeemug.“Summer,willyoumarryme?”
Mybrotherasksinjest.Butmycavemanbrainmissesthejoke.Instead,itsoundslikemybigbrotherishittingonher,andIwanttoscoopherupandhideheraway.BecauseBeauiseverythingI’mnot.Heroic,organized,dependable,clean-cut.
IfIhadtopickatypeforSummer,I’denvisionBeau.
TopreventmyselffromsayingsomethingI’llregret,Iscaldthebackofmythroatwithhotcoffee.Tohercredit,Summerjustrollshereyes.Which,pathetically,makesmefeelbetter.
“Youwoundme!”Beaudramaticallygrabsathischest.“WillyouatleastcomeouttoTheRailspurtonight?”
“Don’tyouneedtodeployagainsoon?”Iinterrupt.
“Tryingtogetridofme,babybrother?”Beauwinksatme,andImomentarilywonderifheknowshe’sturningmeintoajealouscrybaby.
Summerignoresourantics.Infact,she’sbeenthepictureofprofessionalismeversincethatnightwesharedabed.Notweird,orcool,orawkward,just…professional.
Overthepastweek,I’veoftenwishedshe’dbealittlelessprofessional.Alittlemorereckless.
“RhetthasanMRIatthehospital,”shesays.“Thenacupunctureatfour.Thenhehasateleconferenceinterview.Soprobablynottonight.”
“Youcouldcomewithouthim,youknow?”
Summersmilesatmybrotherasshepushesoutofherchairtostand.It’sakindenoughsmile,butnotafullone.NottheoneIsawonherfacewhenshecheeredformeinthestands.
It’stheexactsmirkthatusedtobugme.ButnowIseeitinadifferentlight—shethinksit’sapolitesmile.It’skindoftheequivalentofapatonthehead.
“Icould,”sheagreesassheturnsandwalksaway.
Myeyesdroptoherassinherskin-tightworkoutpants.Shemightbeshort,butfuckme,thegirlhascurvesinalltherightplaces.Firmmuscles.Sheremindsmeofagymnastinspandex.
“Let’sgo,Rhett.It’sgymtime.”
Igroanandstand,stillsore.ThoughIhavetoconfess,thisroutineSummerhasmeonisn’tterrible.Ifeelbettereveryday.MybiggestcomplaintisthatI’mgettingprofessionalmassagesratherthanonesfromher.
Idumpthedregsofmycoffeeandleavethecupinthesink.Beaucanfuckingwashit,putthatmilitarycleanstreakofhistouseforflirtingwithmybabysitterrightinfrontofme.
“Havefun.”Hewinksandhitsmewithaknowingsmirk.
Dick.
Isneakmyfingerintomymouthandgivehimabig,slipperywetwillyonthewaypast.Andit’ssurprisinglysatisfying.
***
“Youdon’thavetostayherewithme,youknow.”InudgeSummer’sshoulderwithmineandpeerdownattheglossycookingmagazineshe’sflippingthrough.
“Iknow.”That’sallshesays.Shedoesn’telaborateorevenlookatme.Infact,sheseemsalmostexasperatedbyme.
“YoucouldleaveandgohangoutwithBeau.”Evensayingitoutloudispetty,butthatjealousstreakinmehasfixatedonthewaymybrotherflirtswithher.He’slikethatwitheveryone.ButitbugsmewhenhedoesitwithSummer.
Herlipspresstogether,andshesmirksdownatthepage.“Iknow.”
“Sowhyareyousittingherewithme?”
Herheadtipsupandhereyesmoveovertomeetmine.Sittingsidebysideintheradiologywaitingroomdoesn’tleavemuchspacebetweenus,especiallyifwe’regoingtotalkwithouteveryoneelsehearingeverywordwesay.Herlipsopenforamoment,likeshe’sabouttosaysomething.
“That’sthegig.”
Shesaysit,butitsoundslikealietome,basedonthewayherlipsweremovingbeforesheforcedthemintothatlineofbullshit.
Sheblinksrapidlyandthenstaresbackdownatthemagazine,thatfakesmirkfirmlyinplace.“Plus,can’thaveyouhittingonallthenurseshere.Wouldn’tbeagoodlook.”
“Ah,yes,becauseI’manuncontrollableanimal.”
Herheadtilts,andsheshrugs.“Thereisacertainreputation.”
“Haveyouseenanyproofofthatinthepastfewweeks?”Herlipsrolltogetherinthemostalluringway,butshedoesn’trespond.“Imaginethinkingsomeonedoesn’tchangeorgrowupatallinthecourseofadecade.”
Hereyesflittotheside.
“Mydad,mybrother,theentireWBRFfanbase,it’sliketheystillseemeasthetwenty-somethingWorldChampionwithnoboundaries.Orinmyfamily’scase,theunrulylittleboywhowoulddoanythingforattention.”
Iscoff,frustrationbubblingtothesurfaceasIcontinue.“HereIam,amaninhisthirtiesandnomatterwhatIdo,peopletreatmelikeI’machild.LikeI’mirresponsible.Andworse,theytreatmelikeI’mstupid.Andmyjobistogrinandignoreitbecausewhy?Money?That’showpeoplewanttoseeme?It’sexhausting.AllIwantedtodowasridebullsandchasethathighthatmademefeelsomething.Thathighthatgavemecontrolofmydestinyforafulleightseconds.LikeIheldtheroom’sattentionforabriefmomentintime.AndnowI’mherebendingoverbackwardstoappeasethemassesbecauseI’vebecomesomesortofhouseholdsexsymbolormascotforentireindustries?Ineveraskedforthatkindofresponsibility.”
I’malmostoutofbreathwhenIfinishmyverbalrampage.Summerisstaringatme,richchocolateeyeswideandcheeksslightlypink.WhenIbreatheout,shebreathesin,thesurroundingairasilentcocooninabusyhospital.
Shesaysitsoquietly,Ialmostmissit.“Idon’tseeyouthatway.”
Myheartthudsagainstmyribs,andmyeyesdroptoherlushcherrylips.Suchasimplestatementhasnevermeantquitesomuch.
“Summer.”Abitingvoiceinterruptsthemoment,andwebothflyawayfromeachotherlikewe’vebeencaughtdoingsomethingweshouldn’tbe.
Summersmoothsherhandsdownthefrontofhercorduroyjacket.“Winter.Hi.Whatapleasantsurprise.”Hercurrentsmileisn’tthesmugone,it’soneofforcedbrightness,andasIlookbetweenthetwowomen,Iputtogetherwhy.
“Haven’tseenyouatfamilydinnerlately.”TheotherwomanholdssimilarfeaturestoSummer,andyet,shecouldn’tbemoredifferent.Porcelainskinandpaleblondehairpulledbacksotightherentirefacelooksequallytaut.Cunning,icyeyes,justlikeherexpression.
Ialmostchuckleoverthenames.Winterallfrigidandbiting.Summerallwarmandsoft.
“We’vebeenontheroad.”Summerhikesathumbatme.“DadhasmeworkingwithRhettexclusively.”
Thewomanwearingthelongwhitecoatoveraboxybluedressglancesoveratmewithadismissivesmile,andIdecidetojumpin,feelingprotectiveofSummerandnotlovingthewayhersisteristalkingtoher.
Istand,usingmyheighttomyadvantage,stayingcloseenoughthatSummer’skneebrushesagainstmylegasIshoveahandinWinter’sdirection.“RhettEaton,pleasuretomeetyou.”
Sheslipsherhandintomine,andit’scoldtoo.Hergripisfirm,andhereyesflitdownmomentarilytohersister.AlookpassesbetweenthembeforeWinterseemsalmostgleeful.“DoctorWinterValentine.I’mSummer’shalf-sister.”Summerwincesatthatdesignation,butit’swhathersistersaysnextthathasherallflustered.“Andofcourse,Iknowwhoyouare.SummerhadyourWranglersadplasteredonherbedroomwallforyears.”
Mymindstuttersoverwhatshe’sjustspilled.
Summerclearsherthroatandglaresathersister,maintaininghercomposurebeautifullydespitetheredsplotchespoppinguponhercheeks,allthewaydownherneckandontoherchest.
AmIgoingtoharassSummeraboutthislater?Absolutely.Ilovetosparwithher.Itmightaswellbeforeplayforhowwellsheholdsherown.Butrightnow,I’mmiffed.Iseeheroldersisterbeingintentionallycrueltoher.Tryingtoembarrassher.ItmakesmeplasteravicioussmileonmyfacewhilestillgrippingWinter’spalminahandshakethathasnowgoneonfortoolong.
Iwinkather.“Soundslikeyourememberitquiteclearlyyourself,darlin’.”
Bitch.
Herlipsflatten,andsheyanksherhandfrommine.“Maybenextfamilydinneryoucanjoinus.IknowthatwouldbeadreamcometrueforSummer.”SheturnsherscathinggazedownatSummerandthenbrightlyadds,“Well,Ihaveapatient’sscanstotendto.Itwasapleasureseeingyouboth.”
Andwiththat,she’sgone.Samepetitestature,butallharsh,slimlines—almostspritelike—asshewalksaway,headheldhigh,completelyunrattled.
“Oof.Icequeenmuch?”Ibreatheoutbeforefloppingbackdown.
It’sthesmall,stranglednoisecomingfromSummerthathasmeturninginherdirection.She’scoveredherfacewithbothhands,andI’mnotentirelysurewhatshe’sdoing.ButIthinkshemightbelaughingbasedonthewayherbodyisvibrating.
Orcrying.Oneofthetwo.
“Youokay?”
“No,”shewheezes.
“AreyouhidingbecauseyoursisterisagradeAbitchorbecauseInowknowthatI’myourteenagedspankbankfodder?”
I’mprettysureIhearhermumbleachoked,“Oh,myGod.”
Whenshepeeksoutatmefrombetweenherfingers,Iwagglemyeyebrows.Andwhenheronlyresponseistogroanandtipherheadbackagainstthevinylchairback,Ilaugh.
“Canwepleasepretendthatneverhappened?”Herpalmsmufflehervoice.
Igrinandshakemyhead,crossingmyarms,irrationallypleasedwiththewholething.“Notafuckin’chance,Princess.”16Summer
Dad:Canyoucometothestaffmeetingthisweek?
Summer:Whichday?Whattime?
Dad:Thursdayatone.
Summer:Yeah,ImighthavetoshuffleoneofRhett’sappointmentsthatwillconflictwithit.
Dad:I’msurehecanmanageanappointmentonhisown.Seemslikeyou’vegothimonaprettytightleash.
Summer:Again.He’snotadog.
***
There’sachinookrollingthroughtoday.You’dthinkthebreezewouldcoolmycheeks,buttheairisdownrightbalmy.AllthehardworkIdidinthewaitingroomtocomposemyselfwhileRhetthadhisscanwentrightdownthetoilettheminutehecamestridingbackoutwithaknowinggrinonhisface.
Cockymotherfucker.
Onourwalkoutthemaindoorsofthehospital,Iavoidhiseyes.It’sawkward.Reallyfuckingawkward.Andit’ssuchaWintermove.She’sneveroutrightmeantome.She’spassiveaggressive,she’scalculated.Winterplaysthelonggame.IcanjustseeourdadmentioningwhatI’vebeenuptoandherfilingthatinformationawayfortheperfectmomenttoembarrassmewithit.
Ihatetocallherconniving,becausethere’sthislittlepartofmethattrulylovesher.Admiresher.Iwishwe’dbeengiventheopportunitytoforgeourowntypeofrelationship.Buttheevilstepmothergotherfingersinthereandplayedusbothlikepuppets,easilymakingmeouttobethesourceofallfamilystrife.Winternevergotachancetolikeme,andnomatterhowhardItry,shedoesn’tseeminterested.It’ssomethingthatkeepsmeupatnight.Ilongforarelationshipwithher.YearntohaveonemorepersonIcanconsiderfamily,ratherthanjustKip.
SeeingRhettandhisfamilytogether—evenpesteringeachotherthewaytheydo—makesmychestache.Iwantthatoneday.
“Didyoudoodleournameswithaheartaroundtheminyourbinders?”
That’showhebreaksthesilence.
Ipressmylipstogetherintoafirmline,willingmyselfnottosmile.Idon’twanttogivehimthesatisfactionoflaughingathisjoke.Evenifit’sfunny.
“No.”
“Didyou…”Hetrailsoff,scrubbingathisbeard.“Kissthepageyourippedoutofamagazine?”
Iscoff.“Ididn’tripitout.Icutitoutverycarefully.AndnowI’mlookingforwardtothrowingdartsatit.”
Hebarksoutalaughandgrinsdownatme,lookingaltogethertoohandsomeandpleasedwithhimself.Whichforcesmetoglanceawayandtrytohidemysmile.ButwhenIdo,myeyeslandontheMcLarenparkedaheadofus,inatowawayzonewithitshazardson.It’sthelicenseplatethatmakesmestopinmytracks.
DRHEART
Asateenager,Ithoughtitwaswitty.NowIthinkit’slamebeyondcompare.
“Youokay?”Rhett’shandlandsonmylowerbackashelooksdownatme,concernetchedacrosshisfeatures.“I’mjustjokingaround.Youshouldprobablyfiremeforsexualharassment.”
“I…”Ishakemyhead.“No.Justmyex.”Inodmyheadtowardthevehicleparkedabouttencarlengthsaheadofus.
Hiseyesfollowmineandthenrollwhentheycatchsightoftheexpensivesportscar.“Ofcourse,itis.”
Ijustswallowinresponse.
“Dowelikethisex?”Hisfingerspulseonmylowerback,andIleanintohim,notforgettingthewayhesteppeduptoprotectmewhenWinter’sclawscameout.
“It’scomplicated,”Ibreathe.
“Complicatedhow?”Rhett’svoicetakesonanedgethathasmelookingupathimandawayfromRob’sillegallyparkedcar.
“Complicatedlikewe’revery,veryover.He’smovedon.Buteverytimehecatcheswindofmedoingthesame,hecropsbackupinsomecapacity.Like,apparently,hesawacliponTVofmegivingyouthethumbsupinPineLakeandthatwasenoughforhimtostartsniffingaround.”
Rhett’sheaddropsdowncloser,erasingwhateverlittlerespectablespacetherewasleftbetweenus.Hiseyesaretrainedonmine.Staringatmeinthatwayhealwaysdoes.Withunmatchedintensity.“Thateventwasn’ttelevised.Whichmeanshe’sgoingoutofhiswaytofigureoutwhatyou’redoingandprobablysearchingtheeventsonYouTubeforfootage.”
Thatnight,whenRobtoldmehe’dseenmygesture,Ididn’tevenquestionit.ButRhettisright.Iknowwhicheventsaretelevised—Kiphasbeenveryexactingaboutthat—sothere’snowayRobjusthappeneduponthefootage.ButRhettisright,andIcan’tbelieveIdidn’tcatchthelie.
“Shit.That’s…creepy.”IblinkupatRhett,who’soppositehandcupsmyelbownow,turningmeintowardhim.
“Maybeweshouldgivehimsomethingtocreepon.Doyouthinkhe’sinthatcar?”Theruggedmaninfrontofmesmirksinawaythathasmyentirebodyhumming.“Ratherthankissingyourmagazinepages,youcantryouttherealthing.”
“You’reanidiot,”Imumble,butIalsodon’tmoveaway.
WouldIdothis?Myheartracessohardthatitdrownsoutthesoundsaroundme.AllIhearisthatdull,rushingsoundofmypulseinmyears.
“Whatifsomeonesees?Whatifthisgetsout?”
Rhett’sthighpressesagainstminewhilethehandonmylowerbackslidesdowntothewaistlineofmyjeans,hisfingerstighteninginawaythathasthespotjustbehindmyhipbonesaching.
Hemovesinclose,hisscentsurroundingmeashiswildhairfansdownaroundus.TheairbetweenushumsandIstareathismouth,wonderingwhattheroughnessofhisbeardmightfeellikeonmylips,onmybody.
I’veneverkissedamanlikeRhett.
“Youknow,Princess,”herasps,andIshouldhatethatgoddamnnickname,borneofmockingmeforbeingwhoIam,butsuddenlyitfeelslikeashotstraighttomycore.Likepraise.Likeworship.“I’mfindingIdon’treallycarewhatpeoplethinkwhereyou’reconcerned.”
Thatcommentstrikesmespeechless,andImomentarilyletmyselfimagineaworldinwhichIdidn’tcarewhatpeoplethought.WhereIdidn’tconstantlyworktokeepeveryonearoundmeappeased.Wheretherewasn’tthisever-presentneedtomakeupforbeingbornaburden.Whatmightthatkindoffreedomfeellike?TodosomethingIwantwithoutworryingabouteverypossiblefallout.
AndsomethingaboutRhett’simpulsivewaysandruggedgoodlooksmakesmewanttoembraceitforonewildmoment.Ideserveamomentlikethat.
Iswallowhardandnodonce,gettinglostinhisglowingambereyes.Thehandonmyelbowslidesup,sendinggoosebumpsoutovermyskin.Thecoolmetalofhisringonmyskinasthatsamehandglidesovermyshoulder,tracesmycollarbone,andslidesupmythroat.
AndI’monfire.
ForallthetimesIimaginedhishandsonme,Ineverimaginedmybodyreactinglikethis
It’swhenhislipscomedown,onlyahairsbreadthapart,andhisknucklesgrazemycheekbonethatInoticethedriver’ssidedoorofRob’scarshootopenfromthecornerofmyeye.Andit’sthenthatImurmur,“Okay.Butthismeansnothing.”
Inresponse,Rhettgrowlsanddustshislipsacrossmine.Tinglesshootoutlikeelectricity,likeeverybristledpointthattouchesmesendsasparkdancing,twirlingacrossmyskin.Singeingeverynerveending.
Hishandsarepossessiveonmybody.Pullingmetightagainsthimalmostaggressively,whilecradlingmyskullsodelicately,andkissingmesocarefully.Helightsmeup.Heburnsmedown.AndIbaskinhisheat.
Thebuzzofthehospitalaroundusfadesawaywhenhislipscomebackandpressdownmorefirmlythistime.Thepeople,thesirens,Rob’spresence.ItallblowsawaylikedustonadirtroadasIkissRhettback.
Ishouldn’t.Ireallyshouldn’tbekissingthisman.Thisclient.Idefinitelyshouldnotbekissinghimback.Butsometimesbeingresponsibleisexhausting,especiallyinthefaceofsomeoneasirresistibleasRhettEaton.
It’smewhopushesmytongueintohismouth.It’smewhostepsevencloser,feelinghishandslidedowntomyassashecrushesmeagainstthesteelybulgeinhispants.It’smewhomoanswhenhepressesitagainstmeevenharder.
TheknowledgethatIdothattohimmakesmewildItseemsunlikely.Weseemunlikely.
AndyetI’dhavetobeanidiottodenythere’saconnectionhere.Thebickering.Thejokes.Thegoddamnteenagedcrush.
Histhumbtrailsdownthecolumnofmythroatashissilkytonguetangleswithmine.Hewieldsitsowell.Hemakesmeweakintheknees.Suddenly,Iwanthimcloser—Iwantmore.
AndasIsqueezemythighstogetherandfeelmycoreclench,Irealizemybodywantsthattoo.Whichisaproblem.BecauseIstillneedtospendseveralweekswiththisman.Alonewiththisman.Whichmeansthisneedstostop.
Ipullback,panting.Myhandsareclenched,fistingthefrontofhisshirt,andourhipsstilllineupinawaythatisentirelyinappropriateforthemainentranceofthehospital.
Rhettisbreathlesstoo,backtostaringatme.
Hiseyesflitpastme,andIfollowthem,notwantinghimtolookawayyet.WeglanceoverjustintimetoseeRob’scoiffedheadofgoldenhairslipintohisfastcar.Thesoundofhisdoorslammingmakesmejump.AndthenI’mstaringbackupatRhett,whosejawisclenchedhardenoughthatitlooksliketheboneistryingtoescapethroughhisskin.
“Well…Ithinkthatworked.”MyvoicesoundsbreathyandsoftasIstepawayfromRhett’srock-hardbody,thebreezewhooshinginbetweenusasthoughit’scarryingawayallthefeelingsthatcameflutteringupwhenwekissed.
Iwishitcouldcarryawaymyconfusion.
Wewalkagain,andI’mjusttryingtostayuprightafterthemostmind-blowingkissofmylife.Fakekiss.
Iwonderifwe’regoingtotalkaboutit,butRhettjustadjustshimselfinhisjeansandtriestosteertheconversationbackintosaferterritory.Mockingme.
“Didyouplanourweddingwhileyouwerecoopedupinthehospital?Whataboutourweddingnight?I’dlovetohearaboutthat.”
Iglancedownathiscrotchwithasmirk.Secretlygettingoffonseeingthebulgethere.“Betyouwould.”
Hispinkyfingerwrapsaroundminetenderlybeforehemoveshishandtothesmallofmyback,guidingmesafelyacrosstheroadandmakingmychestflutter.
He’sjoking.ButIdidimagineaweddingnightwithhim.Alongtimeago.
Ihaven’tinyears.
ButImightbetonight.
***
“Tellmeabouthim,”RhettsaysfromthepassengerseatwhileIfocustoohardonanemptyroad.
“What?”Ieyehimsuspiciouslynow,pretendingIdon’tknowwhathe’stalkingabout.
“DoctorDouche.”
Istranglealaughinmythroatasmytonguedartsoutovermylipsandmyknucklesturnwhiteonthesteeringwheel.“He’snotadouche.”
“Getreal.Isawhispersonalizedlicenseplate.Hissecretisofficiallyout.”
Ismilenow.“Okay,thatisbad.”
“Bad?It’sworsethanbad.Ibethelovesmilk-baseddrinks,too.”
Ihuffoutalaughandshakemyhead.
“Whendidyoubreakup?”
“Idon’tknowifyoucouldcallitabreakup.Weweren’ttogetherinthewayyoumightbethinking.”MytopteethgrazemybottomlipasIturnthingsoverinmymind.I’veonlyevertoldWillaaboutthis,andit’sscarytoopenupaboutitwithRhett.
“We…fuck.Idon’tknow.I’vetoldnooneexceptmybestfriendaboutthis.”
“YoumeanKipnevermethim?”Thecuriosityonhisfaceisblatant.
“Well.No.He’smethim.”
“Summer,thisisn’taChristopherNolanfilm.Idon’tdeservetobethisconfusedaftergivingyouthebestkissofyour—”
“Hewasmydoctor,”Iblurtout.
Rhettgoesstill,allthejokesslidingaway.Probablycrushedbythewheelsbeneathus.“Likeyourfamilydoctor?”
“No.He’sacardiothoracicsurgeon.HeperformedthecorrectiveheartproceduresIhaddoneasateenager.”
Hisheadflopsbackontherestbehindhim.“JesusChrist.So…didyoujustsayteenager?”
“NothinghappeneduntilIwaslegal.Whateverwedidmostlyconsistedofsneakingaround,”Iaddquickly,glancingoverathim,becauseIcantellwhathe’sthinking.
“Summer.”Hegroansandthrowsahandoverhisface.“Thatdoesn’tmakeitanybetter.”
“Iknow,”Ireply,quietly.
“Someoneshouldreporthim.Doctorscan’tgoarounddatingtheirteenagedpatients.”Histoneisbiting.
Myeyesgowide.Idon’twanttomakethisathing.Iwanttoleaveitallinthepastwhereitbelongs.Idon’thateRob;Ijustwanttomoveonfromhim.“Please,pleasedon’tsayanything.Ishouldn’thavesaidanythingtoyou.Iwasjust…explainingmyself,Iguess.”
Rhettsighsraggedly.“Youdon’towemeanexplanation.It’shimwhoshouldbeexplaininghimself.”Hegazesoutthewindow,shakinghisheadbeforemuttering,“SawyouonTV,myass.”
Iglanceoveragain,almostnervouslythistime.Myhandstwistonthesteeringwheel.“Idon’tknow.Peoplepleaser,Iguess.ThingswithRobandIwerecomplicated.Iguesstheystillare.It’slike,logically,Iknowthatourrelationshipwasfuckedup.Buthesavedmylife.BeforehimIwasverysick,andhefixedme.Andit’simpossibletoreconcilethosetwothings.”
Rhettgrunts.Ibettohimalotofmyfamilyrelationshipsseemawfullycomplicated.
“Youdeservesomuchbetter,Summer.It’slikeyou’resobusyforcingyourselftosmileandbehappyallthetimethatyoudon’tevenrealizewhenyou’reentitledtobepissedoff.”
HisstatementstrikesmesilentwhileIdesperatelysearchforsomethingadequatetoreplywith.“Thankyouforstandingupformetoday.Tomysister.Andwiththe…”Iremoveonehandfromthewheelandwaveitaroundalmostspastically.
“Kiss?”hesupplies.
“Yeah,that.I’msogladwecangobacktoaprofessionalworkingrelationshipafterthat.”
Rhettquirksabrowinmydirection,watchingmelickmylipsandswallowwhileavoidinghisgaze.
“AndthankyouforkeepingmysecretaboutRob.”
Rhett’sonlyreplyistogrindhisteeth.17Rhett
Summer:Pleasedon’tdoanythingstupidwhileI’matthestaffmeeting.Itrustyoutoholdittogetherforoneafternoon.
Rhett:Shit,Princess.Idon’tknow.Imightgocrazywithoutyou.
Summer:Forducks’sake.
Summer:Duck
Summer:*Duck
Summer:FUCK.Ugh.Whycan’tmyphonelearnthatword?I’llbebackarounddinnertime.
Rhett:Quack.
***
“Thisisabadfuckin’idea.”Cadelooksdownrightmurderousonthebackofhisredmareasweridethroughthepasture.
“Noway.”Beau,ontheotherhand,looksgiddy.“Thisisfun.Likeoldtimes.”
“Oldtimeswhenwewere,what?Teenagers?”
“Yeah.Exactly.”Beaupointsbackathim.“OurfamilyisfoundedonfightingwiththeJansens.We’reliketheHatfieldsandMcCoys.”
Cadesnorts.“WearenotliketheHatfieldsandMcCoys.”
“It’smorelikeEbenezerScrooge,CaptainAmerica,andI’mthecoolguyfromTombstonewhocantwirlhisgunsreallywell,”Ireply.
“MorelikeFabiowithallthatfuckin’hair,”Beausnorts.“AndI’mCaptainCanadathankyouverymuch.Oh!”Beauslapshisthighinthesaddle.“No,no,no,I’mMaverickfromTopGun.”
“WhythehellamIEbenezerScrooge?”Cadegrumblesfromunderthebrimofhishat.
BeauandIonlyneedtoglanceateachotherforamomentbeforeweburstoutlaughing.
“Seriously?”Cadebitesout,shakinghishead.“Ifyouspentyourentirelifebeingresponsibleforyoutwoyahoos,andnowakidwhotakesafterthelikesofhisfuckin’uncles,you’dbegrumpytoo.”
Thatsobersmeabit.IknowCadehastheweightoftheworldonhisshoulders.Inrecentyears,I’vecometounderstandhimbetter.I’masplitdownthemiddleofmytwobrothers.Attimes,IcanbequietandgrumblylikeCade,butIcanalsobeplayfulandrecklesslikeBeau.
TheproblemisBeau’slackofself-awareness.He’sallaboutdanger,andfun,andlivinglifetothefullest.He’sthehappy-go-luckymiddlechild,whoalltheshitjustseemstorolloff.LikesomesortofTeflonpan.Oratleastthat’sthewayitseems.
Theunithe’sapartofisultra-secretive,whichmeansweneverreallyknowwhereheisorwhathe’sdoing.
Butwe’realltight.
AndIsupposethat’swhywe’rehere,ridingouttoourpropertylinetogether.WhenCadementionedtheJansensparkedtheirtractorandtillingmachineonourproperty—again—Beauhatchedaplanthatonlysomeonewithhislevelofmaturitycould.
IsupposeI’mjustagitatedenoughtogoalongwithit.Inthedayssinceourkiss,Summerhasgoneonbeingcompletelyprofessional,ifalittlewary.Likeshe’snervousabouttickingmeoffnowthatIknowasecretofhers.
Whenwegotothegym,she’snotashardonme.She’denjoyedcomingupwiththehardestcoreexercisesshecouldimagine.Like,tossingmeaballwhileIstandone-leggedonaBosuball.WhenIwouldstumble,she’dlaugh.Butnow,sheoffersmewordsofencouragement.Andit’sfuckingweird.Ihateit.I’vegrowntolikeherpestering.Hersnarkylittledigs.
Icravethoseinteractionswithher.
So,hereIam,fallingintooldhabits.DoingsomethingIknowIshouldn’tbecause,well,Iguessitburnsoffsteam.WhatIrefusetoacknowledgeisthattheriskofgettingcaughtalsobringsthechanceofattention.
Negativeattention.FromSummer,whoiscurrentlymeetingwithherdadinthecity.AndwillfreakoutwhenshefindsoutIdidthis.
ButevennegativeattentionfromSummerfeelslikeareward.Ifshewantstodressmedown,I’lllether.Ilikethewayhercheekspink,thewayherbottomlippoutsout,thewayhereyesroll.
I’dliketomakethemrollinotherwaystoo,tipbackasherlashesflutterdown.Theviewfrombetweenherlegswouldbespectacular,Ijustknowit.
Wecrestthehill,andIwillmyboneraway.Ifmybrotherscatchsightofthat,therewillbehelltopay.
“See?”Cade’sjawpops,andheshakeshisheadatwherethebluetractorisparked.Doesitmatter?Probablynot.Butwe’rehereanyway.“You’dthinkafteryearsofthisshit,they’dstop.Ijustknowtheydiditonpurpose.Trash,thelotofthem.”
TheJansensdon’thaveagreatreputationintown,theyneverhave.Ifthere’strouble,it’soneoftheJansenboys.Inthebackofapolicecar,sellingdrugs,stealingshit,younameit.Idon’tthinkthey’reactuallythatscary,morejust…well,likeCadesaid—trash.
Westayonourproperty,andtheystayontheirs.TheonlyspotofcontentionisnearthecreekwhereBeaubuilthishouse.Helikestofishoutthereandhashadtochasethosefuckersoffourlandtwiceforfishingwheretheydon’tbelong.
MostofmypranksconcerningtheJansenshavebeenlimitedtoopeningtheirchickencooporsneakingaroundandcuttingthetwineontheirbalesofhay.DidIputsugarintheirgastankonce?I’llnevertell.
Basically,generalshit-disturbingfarm-boybehaviorasachild.
“Baileyisn’tsobad,”Beauinterjects.
“Yeah,IfeelbadforBailey,”Iagree.Baileyisquiet.Sheworkshershiftsatthepubatnightandkeepsherheaddown.Idon’tthinkbeingthebabysisterofthecriminalenterpriseinasmalltownhasbeeneasyforher.
Cadegrunts.IknowhehasasoftspotforBailey.There’ssomethingaboutababysisterthatgetsallthreeofusrightinthechest.
“Alright,fellas.”Beaugrinsandopenshissaddlebag,pullingoutarolloftoiletpaperandholdingitup.“Let’sgettowork.”
Cadeactuallychucklesnow,asheswingsalegupoverhismountandjumpsdownontotheground.“Let’sdothis.”
Ifollowsuit,pullingoutmyownrollsoftoiletpaper,tryingtocontainmygrinandthechildishgleebubblingupinsideme.Atmyage,Ishouldnotbethisgiddyovertoiletpaperingtheneighbor’stractor.
Buthereweare.
Wedothetires.Thehitch.Beaugetsunderneathanddoestheaxels.Cadedoesthepistonsattachedtothefrontbucket.Betweenthethreeofus,itdoesn’ttakelongtocoverthewholegoddamnthing.
Westandbacktoadmireourhandiwork,grinningfromeartoear.ThethreeEatonboys,unitedintheirchildishpranks.Itfeelsgood.Itfeelsnormal.There’snocrushofexpectations.There’snoworryaboutsponsors,orfans,orscores.
Ourhorses’snortbehindus,andIfeelhilariously…atpeace.
“I’mgoingtogettheinsidebeforewego,”Iannounce.
“Yeah.Yeah.Getthepedalsandshit,”BeaupromptswhileCadestandsthere,shakinghishead.
“It’sneverenoughforyou,isit,Rhett?You’realwayslookingformore.”Idodgethetruthofthatstatementbydroppingmyheadandtrudgingbackoverthedrygrasstowardthetractor,toiletpaperinhand,asthesundipslowinthesky.
Iyankthedooropenandstepupintothecage,immediatelywrappingthewheel.It’swhenIbenddowntogetthepedalsthatIhearacommotion.
“Hey!Whatthefuck?”
“Oh,shit.”ThatdeepgrowlcanonlybeCade.
Idon’tshootuprightaway.Ikeepmyselffoldeddownandpeekoverthedashintothefield.TherearetwooftheJansenboysstandingontheoppositesideofashallowditch,lookingredasbeets,shoutingandgesturing.
AndthenIglanceoveratmybrothers.Fuckingpussiesthattheyareclimbingupontotheirhorses,allwhilelaughing.
Thetwoothersruntowardthemandspookmyhorse.Withinmoments,mybrothersandmymountaretakingoffacrossthefield,whoopingandlaughingastheygo.
Ican’thelpbutsnickerwhenIseeBeauturnoverhisshoulderandholdupthreefingersinasortofsalutebeforeheshouts,“Maytheoddsbeeverinyourfavor!”
Fuckingdick.
TheJansensgivechase,whichisfuckingstupidconsideringthey’reonfoot.
Iweighmyoptions.Icangetoutofthetractorandmakearunforit,orIcanstaydownandhopethey’retoolazytocleanupthemessrightnow.
WhenIseetheoldestonetakeaswigoutofatallboycanofbeer,Iopttolielow.IfIwereabeerortwodeep,I’dleavethismessuntilmorning.
“IhatethoseEatonmotherfuckers.”LanceJansenkicksarock.
“Shouldwemovethetractor?”theyoungeroneasks.Ican’tevenrememberhisname.He’syoungerthanme,whereLancewasinmygrade.
“Nah.Fuckthat.I’mparkingthishereeverygoddamndayfromnowon.Justknowingitpissesthemoffiswinenough.”
Itiltmyhead.Hehasapoint.NotthatI’mabouttosayanything.Istayhiddenuntiltheirchatterdiesdown,andonceI’msurethey’regone,Ifinishdoingtheinside.
AndIdoitrealgood.Imean,Icoverthatshitfromtoptobottom.Then,Ihopoutandmakemywayoverthehill,checkingovermyshouldernowandthentomakesurethosehillbillymotherfuckersdon’tcomebackforme.Someonesmartwouldrealizetherewerethreehorsesandonlytwopeople.
ButLanceandhisbrotherarenotthatsomeone.
Springisintheair,andI’mnotevenmadaboutthewalk.Igetlostinmythoughtsaboutmyridesthisweekend.Weleavetomorrow,andIneedtogetmyheadinthegame.Myshoulderisn’ttoobad,butit’salsonotgreat—whichmakessenseconsideringtheresultsofthescansayIneedsurgeryonit.
SomethingIwon’tconsideruntilIgetthislastWorldChampionshipundermybelt.Thedoctorhatedmyrefusaltodoitrightnow.Idon’tthinkSummerlikeditmucheither,basedonthewayshepressedherlipstogetheralltight.Butatleastshedidn’tscoldmeaboutit.
Shegetsit.
Forallshe’sbeenthrough,sheunderstandsmydrivetosucceed.Topersevere.Tonotbeavictimofmycircumstances.Andratherthantalkingmeoutofit,shesnappedatthedoctortostoptreatingmelikeachild.
Hervoicewasallhardandsnippyand—
“RhettEaton.What.The.Fuck.Doyouthinkyou’redoing?”
Raspy.Justlikethat.Ilookupjustintimetoseeherridingonmymount,inaflowywhitedressandfuckingsnakeskinboots.
IfherfacewasalittlemorePleasefuckme,sirandalittlelessI’mgoingtokillyou,I’dbehardatthemeresightofher.
“Walkinghome,”Ireplywithawink.SomethingIrealizeshehates.Thewink.Imentallyaddittomylistofwaystorileherup.
Sheglaresatme.“That.”Shepointsatthetractor.
“Oh.That.That’sjustmybrothersandIblowingoffsomesteam.”
Shehaltsthehorseinfrontofme,bodyswayinggentlywiththehorsebeneathher.“That”—shepointsagain—“ishowthreemenintheirthirtiesblowoffsomesteam?Whycan’tyoujustbeanormalmaleidiotandmakemeendurechasingyouaroundwhileyoutrytofuckallthebucklebunnies?”
Istarebackather,alittletakenabackbyheroutburst.“Isthatreallywhatyou’dprefer?”
Herbottomlippushesoutassheraisesherchin.Iwatchthecolumnofherthroatmoveassheglaresatme,butshesaysnothing,evenasthesecondsstretchbetweenus.
Ieventuallyshruganddropmygaze.“Itwasmoreaboutthenostalgia.I’msureBeauwilldeployanydaynow.Withthetwoofusdoingwhatwedo,weneverknowwhenitwillbeourlasttimegettinguptocriminalmischieftogether.”
Sheblinksatthat.Likeshehadn’tconsideredthatwebothhavejobsthatriskourlives.Andthen,shepatstheexpanseofthehorse’sbackbehindthesaddlewhileliftingoneleguptooffermethestirrup.“Getup,youbigidiot.”
“Youmakingmeridebitch,Princess?”Iwedgeabootinthestirrupandswingmyselfupalittleawkwardly.
“Iftheshoefits,”shegrumbles,urgingthehorseforward.
Insteadofgrabbingherwaist,Islidemyarmsaroundherpetiteframeandcoverherhandswithmyown.“I’vegotit.”
Foraminute,herfingersclenchtight,likeshedoesn’twanttoletgo.Ofthereins,orthecontrol,orallthetensioninherlimbs.
Butthenshesighs,andIfeelherbodysoftenagainstmineaswebothswayintimewiththeswinginggaitofourmount.Sheseemsoutofbreath,justlikethepoorhorsewe’reriding.
“Whatdidyoudo?Gallopintobattle?”
“Notbeforereamingyourbrothersout.Butyeah,Ididn’tknowwhatkindoftroubleyou’dbein.Ifyou’dneedhelp.”
Shewasrushingtohelpme.Tobethereforme.
Herfingerswraparoundthehornofthesaddle,andthebladesofhershouldersbrushagainstmychest.AndIcan’thelpmyself.Itakethereinsinonehandandslidetheotheracrossherfront.Splayingmyfingersoutoverherribs.
“How’dthatgoover?”Isayquietly,feelingherbodyshakeasashiverrushesthroughher.
Summerclearsherthroat.“Well,Cadejustcrossedhisarmsandglaredatme.Beaulookedlikeakickedpuppy.Oh,andIthinkyourdadandLukemighthavepeedtheirpantsfromlaughingsohard.”
Adeeplaughrumblesinmychest,andIfeelherpushbackintoit,herbackflushagainstmychestnowaswecrestanotherrollingfoothill.Itfeelsreallyfuckinggoodholdingherinthecageofmyarms.She’srelaxedwithme,andIgetoffonthat.
Withouteventhinking,mythumbstartstomoveinagentlecircleagainstherwaist.Rubbingupagainstthebottomseamofherbrathroughtheairycotton.“Iguessyouweren’tlyingaboutbeingabletoride.”
Herresponseistoreachforwardandtrailherfingersovermyfingersthatholdthereins.Isuckinabreath,surprisedbyhersuddenboldness.Hertouchispureheatasthedelicatepadsofherfingerstracethesilverringonmyfinger.Butwhateverhypnoticstateshewasjustinevaporatesbeforemyeyes,andshesnatchesherhandback.
Shesitsupalittlestraighter,pullingawayincrementally.
“Sorry.Yeah,no.Iwasprettygoodbeforemyheartproblemsworsened.It’showImetmybestfriend,Willa.It’salsowhyIshouldhaveknownridinginthisdresswouldhavepinchedmythighstoshit.”Sheshiftsinthesaddle.
Ileandownandwhisperintoherear,“Well,yourchivalryisnotlostonme,”whichearnsmeafirmelbowintheribs.
“Yourstupidityisnotlostonme.Ifyou’dbeencaught,I’dbetheoneinshit.I’dbelettingpeopledown.”
“Youevergettiredoflivingtopleaseeveryoneelseallthetime?Doesn’titgetboring?”Ijokewithaplayfulniptothelobeofherear,butbasedonthewaySummertenses,shedoesn’tseethehumor.
“Letmeoff.”Sheshovesoneofmyarmsfromwhereit’srestingagainsthers.
“What?”
“Let.Me.Off.”
“Summer,Ididn’tmean—“
“Iknowwhatyoumeant.Andit’sjustfurtherproofthatyoudon’tunderstandresponsibilitybeyondwhatyouwantandwhatmakesyoufeelgood.”
Imovemyarmaway,andsheswingsherlegoverthehorse’sloweredneckandslidesoffeasily.Ievengetaflashofherlacynudeunderwearasshegoes,butIlookawayquickly.She’sclearlypissed,anditseemsungentlemanliketoogleherwhileshetriestostormoff.
“Summer,holdup.”
Sheraisesherhandtostopme.“Please.Justletmewalk.I’mhavingamoment.Ineedtoclearmyhead.Ineedspace.”
“I—”
Herheadshakes,andshecloseshereyestosuckinabreath.“Rhett.Please.Ineedspace.”
Idon’tmissthewobbleinhervoice,andasmuchasIwanttostayandscoopherupanddoeverythinginmypowertomakeherfeelbetter,Idon’t.
BecauseIamagentleman.AndI’llrespectherwishes,evenwhenIdon’tlikethem.Iclearlystruckanerve.So,Iurgemyhorseintoajogandofferheracasualtipofmyhatonthewaypast.
Ispendthenextseveralminutestryingtofigureoutwhatthatwas.WhatchorddidIstrikewithmycomment?Onethatsetherrightthefuckoff,thatmuchiscertain.
Backattheranch,mybrothersarenowheretobefound.They’veskulkedofftolicktheirwoundssomewhere—somethingthatbringsasmiletomyface.IwishI’dbeenheretoseeSummergooffonthem.Hercaretakersideisstrong.Butasmuchofapeoplepleaserasshemightbe,shehasthisviciousstreak.Thisprotectivestreak.
AndIfuckingliveforthat.
Iuntackmybaygelding,givehimaquickbrush,andturnhimbackoutwithafirmpatontheshoulder.ThenItrudgebackuptothegatethatmeetsupwiththemainyard,leanmyselfagainstafencepost,andwaitforSummer.
Whenshefinallycomesintosight,mybreathfreezesinmylungs.She’savisioninabillowingwhitedress,cinchedtightaroundherwaist,andtallboots.Tonedthighsmaketheoddappearancethroughtheslitintheskirt.Hersmallhandsarecurledintofistsatherside,andshe’sstaringattheground,mutteringtoherself,darkstrandsfloatingacrossherface.
Itsoundslikeshe’shavingsomesortofinternalargument.Shelooksadorablypissedoff,andonesideofmymouthtipsupinamusement.
“Rhett.I’mnotinthemoodforourbickeringrightnow,”shesayswhensheglancesupandcatchesmewatchingher.
“Yeah.Fair.Itsoundslikeyou’redoinganexcellentjobofbickeringwithyourself.”
Herlipspart,butnonoisecomesout.It’sfuckingdistracting.DistractingenoughthatIjuststandhere,proppedupagainstthefencepostwhileshemeanderstowardme.
Withaheavysigh,hershouldersdroop.“Canyoujuststop?Please.”
“Why?”Istretchmyarmsouttoclaspthetopboardwithmyhands,becausewithoutsomethingtograb,Imightgrabher.Andthat’snotwhatsheneedsrightnow.
Sherunsherhandsthroughherhair,pullingitbacktightinherfistsandtuggingatit.Shelooksagitated,butalsodefeated.
“Ijust…I’mtryingtodoagoodjob.I’mtryinghardnottoletanyonedown.Mydad.Hisbusiness.You.It’salotofresponsibility,andIkindofgottossedinthedeependwiththisgig.”
Thecrackinhervoiceandtheexhaustioninherframereallyhitsmenow.She’sonlytwenty-five,freshoutofschool,andwhileIhaven’tbeenmakingherlifealivinghelloranything,IcanseehowIhaven’tbeenexactlyhelpful.
Summergivessomuchofherself.Herdad.Hersister.Herstepmom.Everyoneshemeets.
Me
ButwhothefuckistakingcareofSummer?
She’ssunny,andhappy,andcracksajokeinthefaceofadversity.Butrightnow,sheseemstired.Andaftereverythingshe’sdoneforme,lendingherstrengthseemslikethemostnaturalthingtodo.
Iletgoofthefencepostandholdmyarmsopenwide,whilecrookingmyfingerstowardmyself.“Comehere.”
“That’sabadidea.”Sherollshereyesandnibblesatherbottomlip,butIgetthesensethat’smostlytochaseawaytheglassinessshininginthem.Shemakesmewait,buteventually,shestepsintothecageofmyarms,andIwrapthemaroundher.
Forthefirstmomentsshemaintainsapolitedistance,butwhenIdropmyheadandletoutasighagainstthecrookofherneck,shemeltscloser.Onearmslungovermyshoulderwhiletheothertentativelytracesmyribs.
AndIjustholdhertighter.
She’shealthy,andstrong,andresilient,andyetsofragile.Shefeelssmallinmyarms,andthewaysheclutchesatmebordersondesperate.IwishIcouldeaseallherhurt,allherworry,allheranxiety.
It’salmostlikeshedoesn’tseewhataforcesheis.
ButIdo.
IwishIcouldmakeherseethattoo.
I’mnotsurehowlongwestandhere,holdingoneanotherasthegoldensunsinksbelowthehillsbehindus.
Whenshefinallypullsbackabit,hereyesholdmine.AndwhatIseethereissomethingakintoconfusion.
“I’msorryImadeyourjobhardertoday.”Isayit,andImeanit.“I’vespentsolongfendingformyselfthatithonestlyjustfeltlikeawaytohavesomefun.I’m,well,I’mnotaccustomedtoaccountingforsomeoneelse.”It’sasoberingrealization.I’mamanwho’sbeenlivinghisday-to-daylifeforwhatfeelsgood,withlittleregardforthosearoundme.
Shenods,eyesdippingdowntomymouth.“Canyoujustwaituntilyouwinitalltohavesomefun?Thenyoucandowhateveryouwant.It’snotthatlong.”
MyfingerspulseonherwaistandItakemyturnstaringathermouth.Igroan.WhateverIwant.Whatatemptingwayofputtingthat.
Herchestrisesandfallswithsomestrainnow.“Rhett.Youcan’tlookatmelikethat,”shesaysbreathily.“Youreally,reallycan’t.”Hereyespressshut,likeshemightbeabletoerasemefromhermind.
“Whynot?”MyvoiceisallgravelasIsoakupthepainedexpressiononherface.
“Becauseit’sconfusing.”
Likehell.Ireachdownandhitchherlegup,wrappingitaroundmywaist.Rightwhereitbelongs.
“Iwassowrongaboutyou.Andnow?NowI’mnotconfusedatall.”Myfingersgivehertonedthighafirmsqueeze,andmymindrunswildwithhowitwouldfeeltohaveherentirelywrappedaroundme.
Thisfuckingbody.
“Rhett?”Shehasn’tpulledaway.Infact,herfingersaretanglinginthehairatthebaseofmyskull,pullingmyfaceclosertohers,whethersherealizesitornot.
Andthenhermouthtipsup.Herbodyissayingyes,butherwordsaresayingshe’snotsosure.
Iletmyhandtrailuphertorso,feelinghertrembleslightlybeneathmytouch.Istrokethecolumnofherthroatwithmythumb,herpulsebeatingbeneathmyfingers.Thewayitjumpswildly.“Tellmewhatyouwant,Summer.”Ourlipsaresoclose,facingoffinsomesortofgamewithouteventouching.“Ifthiswereyourlastmomentonearth,whatwouldyouwantmetodo?”
Adesperatewhimperingsoundescapesherashereyessqueezeshutagain.
Andthenshepullsaway.Herlegcomesdown,andthespringbreezepushesheroutofmyreach.Herexpressionisstricken,andherposturedefeated.
Summerisproudandresponsible.TwocharacteristicsaboutherIabsolutelyadmire.
So,there’sthesmallpartofmethatisn’tsurprised.Istareathertremblinghandraisedbetweenusinasignaltonotcomeanycloser.
“Unfortunately,thisisnotmylastmomentonearth.”Sheswallowsandglancesoverhershoulder,likeshe’sembarrassed.“Mostly,I’vebeenpushingpapersatHamiltonElite.I’m…I’mtryingtokeepthisrelationshipprofessional.IneedtokeepthisrelationshipprofessionalifI’mgoingtoworkinthisindustry.Ican’tmanageathletesifI’mhookingupwiththem.Youneedtofindsomeoneelsetoplaythisgamewith.”
Thatlastsentenceisaslaptotheface.PartlybecauseshethinksallIwantfromherissomecheaphookup,partlybecausethethoughtofherwithothermenmakesmeinsane,andpartlybecauseIknowshe’snotwrong.
“Ishouldgo,”shewhisperssadly.“Ineedtopack.Ourflightisearlytomorrow.”
Andthensheturns.Ialmostreachforher.ButLukecomesrunningaroundthecornerofthemainbarnwavingahandatme,shoutingsomethingaboutmuttonbustin’asheracespastSummerwithanenthusiastichighfive.
Sheturnstolookbackoverhershoulderatme,hereyespinchedandconfused.AndIalmostfeelbadfortouchingher,becauseshewantsittoo,andIknowshe’sgoingtogobeatherselfupaboutit.
That’swhatsomeoneresponsiblewoulddo.
ButI’mnotthatresponsible.
WhichiswhyIonlyalmostfeelbadabouttouchingSummerHamilton.Thereisn’tasingleotherwomanIwanttoplaythisgamewith.18Summer
Summer:Ialmostkissedthecowboyagain.
*WillaCalling*
***
“Wait.So,youdidn’tkisshim?”Willasoundshorrifiedbytheprospect.
“No,Wils.”Ihuffoutabreath,stilljumbledthismorningfrommyruninwithRhettyesterday.StillslightlyembarrassedbymyoutburstwhenIslidoffhishorseandsulkedtherestofthewaybacktotheranch.Andstillalittleobsessedwiththewayitfelttohavehimpressedupagainstmewhilewedoubleduponthewayback.
Toogoodiswhatitfeltlike.
Oh,andIalsohavebruisesonmyinnerthighsfromridinglikeabatoutofhelltorescueRhettfromwhatIwasenvisioningassomesortofhillbillyshowdowninmyhead.
“That’sdisappointing.You’resuchaboresometimes.Ayoung,hotborewhoshouldbelivingitup.”Shesighsandtakesabiteofsomethingcrunchyontheotherendoftheline.
“Thankyouforthevoteofconfidence,bestie.How’syourdatinglifethenifI’msoboring?”
“Meh.EverytimeIthinkI’vemetsomeone,theyeitherendupboringmetodeathorjustwantingtotellmewhattodo.”
Ilaugh.“GodspeedtothemanwhotriestotellWillaGrantwhattodo.”
“Amen,”ismyfriend’ssolemnreply.
“It’sokaytoputyourselffirst.Don’tsettle,Wils.”
She’squietforafewmoments.AllIcanhearisherchewing.Probablycookies.Shelovesbaking.“Youshouldtakeyourownadvice.”
Igruntatthat.IguessifI’mgoingtohitherwithtruthbombs,shecandothesametome.“I’lltryifyoudo.”
“Okay.”Icanhearthesmileinhervoicenow.“Keepmepostedonhowridingthecowboygoes.”
Ishakemyheadandsay,“Loveyou,psycho,”beforehanginguponher.
IheaddowntothecozykitchentohaveacupofcoffeebeforeRhettandIneedtoleavefortheairport.
Butterfliesdanceinmystomachatthethoughtofcomingfacetofacewithhimafterpracticallyclimbinghimlastnight.Hewastheperfectgentleman,nevertakingmorethanIwaswillingtogive.Butthere’sthispartofmethatwisheshehad.ThenIwouldn’tbekickingmyselffornottellinghimtokissmeagain.
BecauseIjustknowthathavingRhettEatonkissmeforreal,notbecausemyexiswatching,wouldbedifferent.Gooddifferent.
AndIdon’tknowifI’mreadytocrossthatlinewithhim.We’realreadydangerouslyclose,closerthanisprofessional,butnotcareer-ruininglevelsofunprofessional.
Friends.
IhuffoutaquietlaughathowadeptIamatlyingtomyselfasIroundthecornerintothekitchenandplasteronmygo-tosmile,theoneIwearlikeasuitofarmor.
ButIdon’tneedit.TheonlypeoplehereareHarveyandCade.
“Goodmorning,”Ising-songasIbreezeinandgrabmyselfamugfromthewoodencabinet.
“Goodmorning,Summer,”Harveysmileskindly,asalways.
Cadecrosseshisarmsandleansbackinhischair.Ithinkheoffersalowgruntandatipofhischininwayofgreeting.
“Notamorningperson,Cade?”Iask,knowingthatI’mpokingthebearandnotreallycaring.Hecouldusesomepoking.
“I’marancher.Ofcourse,I’mamorningperson.I’vebeenupforhoursalready.”
Ipourmyselfthelastcupofcoffee,leanbackagainstthecounter,andsmileathimoverthelipofthemug.“So,it’sjustgoodmoodsingeneralthatyouhavesomethingagainst?”
Hischeektugsupmomentarilybeforehehidesitwithhisowncupofcoffee.“No,I’mjustworkingmyselfuptoapologizing.”
“Towho?”MyheadquirksasmyeyesflipovertoHarvey,whosnorts.
“You,”Cadegrumbles,likeitphysicallypainshimtodothis.“Rhettismylittlebrother.Ishouldn’thavelefthimtherelastnight.Ishouldhavebeentheonetoridebackandgethim.Ishouldhavebeenthereforhim.”
“Hm.”Inodandsipatmycoffeethoughtfully.“So,reallyyouwanttoapologizetoRhett?”
Hiseyesroll.“Women,”isallhesays.Anditmakesmewanttodeckhiminhismanly,chiseledface.
“Ifhegetscaughtgettingintomoretrouble,it’lltankhissponsorships.Hiscareer.”
“Good.It’sabouttimeheoutgrewridingbullsanyway.”
“Oh,good.Thisconversationagain,”Rhettsays,announcinghispresenceinthekitchen.Heheadsstraightforthecoffeemaker.
“Shit,sorry,I’llmakemore.”IreachforthecontainerfilledwithbeansjustasRhettdoesandourhandsbrush,sendingsparksovermyskinasIsnatchmyhandbackandlookupathim.Athisscowl.AthiswarmgoldeneyesnarrowedonwhereI’mclutchingmyhandagainstmychestnow.
TheEatonboysareawholemoodthismorning.
“It’sfine.I’vegotit.”Heflicksahandatme,signalingthatIshouldmoveoutoftheway—awayfromhim.
Anditmakesmystomachdrop.Hedoesn’tevenwanttobenearme.AndwhocouldblamehimwiththemixedsignalsI’vebeengivinghim?
“Didyouknowtheydevelopedrodeoeventstoshowcaseanddevelopusableranchingskills,Summer?”CadeasksasIgingerlypulloutaseatatthetable.
“Ididnot,”Isaywarily,watchingRhett’sbacktenseatthecounter.
“Anddoyouknowwhatnooneonaranchorfarmdoes?”
“No,butitsoundslikeyou’reitchingtotellme,”Imutter,knowingthisisgoingtoendpoorlyalready.YearsofwatchingWinterartfullysetupaninsulthasmyspideysensestingling.
“Getonabull,”Cadecarrieson,notreadinghisbrother’sbodylanguageatall.“Itservesnopurpose,provesnopoint.It’sjustdangerousandfrivolous.So,whileRhettisoutfuckingbucklebunniesandtakinghislifeinhishands—”
“Cade,”Harveywarns,eyesflickingbetweenhistwoboys.Igetthesensethisisn’tthefirsttimehe’sbeenwitnesstothisconversation.
“I’mhere,dayinanddayout,workingmyassofftokeepthisplaceafloat.Takingcareofmyson.Beingresponsible.LikeIhavebeenforyears.”
Rhettspinsinstantly.“Ifyou’reaskingformypity,brother,youhaveit.Yourwoe-is-meroutineisn’tevenwhatgetsme.It’sthatyouhavesomuchandyou’restillsoangryabouteverything.”Heshakeshisheadandbitesdownonhischeektokeepfromsayingwhateverhewasaboutto,andthenleavesthekitchen,tossingoverhisshoulder,“Let’sgo,Summer.Wecangetcoffeesintown.”
I’mleftinadeathlysilentkitchen.AllIcanhearisthegrandfatherclocktickingfromthelivingroom,somethingthatsoundsominousinthewakeofthataltercation.
Withoutsayingaword,Idumpmycoffeeintothesinkandplacemymuginthedishwasher.Theairisthickwithtension,andIwanttoescapeit.Badly.I’mapeoplepleaser,andthisisanunwinnablesituation.
IheadtowardthehallwaybutstopwhenIhitthearchway,grabbingitandtappingmyfingersagainstitbeforeIturntofacethetwomeninthekitchen.
“Youknow,it’snotmyplacetosay,butyoushouldknowthatwhatRhettisdoing,he’sdoingforyou.Forthisplace.”
Cade’sjawpopsasheholdsmyeyeswithhis,andit’sinthoseeyesthatIseeaflashofconfusion.
“Iwasn’tjoking.Youowehimanapology.Abigone.”Iknockonthewallandgivehimaflatsmile.Then,I’mgone.
Because,whileRhettmightnotwanttobenearmerightnow,I’mfindingIwantnothingmorethantobenearhim.
***
I’vestuckclosetoRhettsincewearrivedinBlackwoodCreek.He’sbeendistant,andtobefrank,agrowlydick.
ButIdon’tletitgettome.I’vecometoknowhimwellenoughoverthelastseveralweekstoknowhesometimesjustneedstolickhiswounds.Toprocess.
AndIhavenodoubtthatCadeembarrassedhimthismorning.
He’scurrentlyseatedonastoolatadeskinfrontofarollingcamera,givinganinterview.Anddoinganexceptionaljobofturningonthecharmandleaningintohisruralupbringingtoun-offendhisoffendedfans.
“Youknow,Sheila,havinggrownuponacattleranch,Iknowhowhardourproducersworktodeliveraqualityproducttomarket.I’veseenmydadworkhisfingerstothebone.Heonlystoppedbecauseofaworkplaceinjury,andnowmybigbrotherspendshisdaysrunningtheplace.It’smyhopetodothesameonthefamilyfarmatsomepointaswell.”
Shesmilesathim.Alittletooappreciativelyformytasteandleansintowardhim.“That’scommendable,Rhett.Yourfamilymustbeveryproudofyou.”
Hiseyesdarttominebeforeheplastersasmileonhistoo-handsomeface.“We’reatight-knitgroup.”
Mystomachsinksforhim.He’ssomuchharderonhimselfthananyonerealizes.Hedoesthisshowmanshipthingsowellandhaseveryonearoundhimconvincedhe’smuchhappierthanheactuallyis.
Muchhealthiertoo.
BecauseIdon’tmissthewayhewincesasheunfoldshimselffromthestool.He’ssosore,andallthetherapyandexerciseandstretchingwe’vebeendoingcan’thidethat.Hisbodyiscompensatingforuntreatedinjuries,andit’skillingmetonottiehimdownandforcehimtogetproperlypatchedup.
ButIalsounderstandneedingtodosomethingtoprovetoyourselfthatyoucan,todosomethingthatwillbegoodforeveryonearoundyou.So,IbitetheinsidesofmycheeksanytimeIhavethedesiretotellhimwhattodo.
Justmebeinghereisprobablygratingenough.Idon’tneedtopushmyluck.
Whenhefinallyapproachesme,heholdsanarmout,gesturingtowardthestairsoutofthemediaroom.AsImoveaheadofhim,Iglanceovermyshoulder.Onlytobusthimstaringatmyass.
IboughtmyselfapairoflightwashWranglersthismorningfromoneofthevendorsonsiteand,clearly,Rhettapproves.Theyaren’tthebeautifulcustomchapsIwaseyeingatthelastevent,butatleastIstickoutlesslikeasorethumbinthesejeansandmynewWBRFteewhichisprintedwithalonghornskull.
Plus,pairedwiththelacybrightredunderwearI’vegotonunderthem,andmysnakeskinboots,Ifeellikesomesortofwestern-chicbombshell.
“Youdidgood,”Isay,forcinghiseyestosnapuptomine.
Ablushcreepsovermycheeks,andIdrophisgazewhenIadd,“I’mproudofyou.”
***
Rhett’sglovedhandrubsovertheropemethodically,hisjawtight,hisfacefocused.Lasttime,watchinghimgetreadytorideexcitedme.Rivetedme.
ButtodayI’mantsy.
I’mnotsurewhat’schangedinthepastfewweeks.AllIknowisthatwatchinghimclimbupontoabullfeelsdifferenttonight.Itfeelslikemyheartispoundingsohardthatit’sdrilleditswayrightdownintomystomach,myentiretorsonowthrumswiththerushofadrenaline.
Iknowheknowswhathe’sdoing.Iknowhe’soneofthebest.Butwhenhenodshishead,IthinkImightbesick.
Thegatesclankopenandtheblackbullchargesout,headdown,hoovesup,shakingRhettallovertheplace.Thecrowdcheersthistime,butIdigmyelbowsintomykneesandclaspmyhandsovermymouth,feelinguncomfortablyhotallover.
He’sasighttobehold.Thewayhemoves.Thestillnessinhisbody,hisarmhelduphigh.Whenthebullturns,hisbodysoftensandgoeswithhim,everythinginsync.Likethebull’srageisbalancedbythelookofpeaceonRhett’sface.
Yinandyang,somehow.Noteverycowboywhostepsinthisringhasit.Theserenity,themagicasthebullwhipsaroundviolently.Rhetthassomethingintangiblethatmakeshimjustacutabovetherest.It’splainasdayformetosee.
Iwonderifeveryoneelsehereseesittoo?
Whenthebuzzersounds,Iflopbackinmyseatandrubatmysternum,hopingtheballoftensioncoiledtherewillunwind.
It’snotuntilariderhassafelyremovedRhettfromthebackofthebullthatitdoes.
Andwhentheycallouthisscoreof91,Istandupandcheer.Idomyloudwhistle,exceptthistime,itblendsinwiththecrowd’scheering.
Hiseyesfindmeanyway,andIlaugh,surroundedbythecheersofthepeoplehethoughthe’dalienated.Ihopehesoaksthisup.Hedeservesit.
Somehow,though,hedoesn’tlookashappyasheshould.Hestandsinthering,helmetinhand,staringatmelikehehasbefore.Withagazethatfeelslikeitgoesrightthroughme.Likehecanseemypatchworkheartrightthroughmyribs.
Witheveryonearoundmescreaminghisnameandcheeringforhim,someonewho’sbeentheirsforoveradecadenow,hefeelslikemine.Becausehe’sstaringatme.
Hedoesn’tfeelliketheirswhenhelooksatmelikethat.IwonderforamomentifhefeelslikeI’mhis.Thisonepersoninthecrowdthathecontinuestoseekout.
Rhett’smouthtwistsinawrygrinandheshakeshishead,pullingtheelasticoutofhiswildhair,lookingsofuckinggoodthatithurts.
Iwatchhimleavethering,fringesofhischapsshaking,shouldersslumped—eventhoughhehasthebuzzofthecrowdfirmlyinhand.AndIaskmyself,ifthisweremylastmomentonearth,wouldIgohappy?
Theansweris,I’dgofullofregrets.I’dgoknowingI’vedoneeverythinginmypowertomakeeveryoneelsearoundmehappy,butfailedtodeliverthatsametreatmenttomyself.
I’mupandmoving,saying“Excuseme”repeatedlyasIpushpastpeople’skneesinmyrowofseating,feelingtheconnectionbetweenRhettandmemoresharplythanever.Likeatugatthecenterofmychest,yankingmetowardshim.Likeit’snature,andI’mhelplesstodenythepull.
Ijogdownthestepsbeforestridingasquicklyasmyshortlegswillcarrymetowardthestagingarea,pastthebullchute,anddownthealleywaythatleadstothelockerrooms.Iflashmypassatthesecurityguardwithabrief,flatsmile.
Hesayssomethingtome,butallIcanhearisthehealthy,evenpoundingofmyheartinmychest.IcatchsightofRhettandalmostsmilebeforecomingtoascreechinghalt.
He’sgotonearmproppeduponametalfencepanel,hiscowboyhatbackonhishead.Icanseethetipsofhishairbrushingagainsthisbackasheleansforwardtowardthewomaninfrontofhim.
She’sbeautiful.AndIrecognizeherfromthelastrodeo.
Mystomachtwistsandmychestaches.ThisisexactlywhatItoldhimtodo.HegavemeamomenttotellhimIwantedhimtoo,andItoldhimIdidn’t.Itoldhimtoplaythisgamewithsomeoneelse.Ishouldbehappyhelistenedforonce.
ButI’mdevastated.I’veneverbeenoblivioustoRhett’sreputation,buthe’sneverliveduptoitinfrontofme.Mytonguetastessouratthesight.
Iturntowalkaway,notwantingtoseeanymorethanIalreadyhave,whichiswhenIbumpstraightintoarock-hardchestandlookupintothegrinningfaceofEmmettBush.
“Whereyouheaded,darlin’?”hedrawls.
Irollmylipstogether,weighingmyoptions,takingstockofthewarringemotionsinsideofme,andbeatingmyselfupforalwaysbeingsogoddamnresponsible.Soresponsible,IdroveaguyImightactuallyliketothat
“Notsure.Mynightiswideopen.Gotanyideas?”Iask,recklessnesscoursingthroughmyveins.
Emmettsmileswiderandslingsanarmaroundmyshoulder.“Well,haveIgotthebarforus.”
Istiffenunderhisarmandpullawayslightly.Hedoesn’tgivemethesamesenseofhomethatRhettdoeswhenhisarmswraparoundme.ButmaybeIdon’tneedfeelings.
MaybewhatIneedissomefun.
“Hey,Eaton!”Emmettshouts,andIwince.“Grabyourgirl,andlet’shitTheCorral.Celebrateyouroldassbarelybeatingmetonight!”Helaughsandtugsmealongwithhim.
AndIgo,refusingtorisklookingovermyshoulder.I’mfartooterrifiedofwhatImightsee.19Rhett
Kip:Hellofaridetonight,kid.
Rhett:Yup.
Kip:What’swrong?
Rhett:Yourdaughteriswhat’swrong.
Kip:Idon’tevenbelieveyou.ThatgirlisoneofthebestpeopleIknow.AndI’mnotjustsayingthatbecauseI’mherdad.
Rhett:Yeah,sheis.That’stheproblem.
***
ItakeanaggressivesipoftheshittybeerinmyhandbeforeputtingitbackonthetablewithfarmoreforcethanIintended.
“You’regoingtobreakthatthing,Boss.”Theochucklesandtakesasipofhisown,eyesalightwithhumorwhilehesitsacrossfrommeatthehigh-toptable.
Ratherthanreplyingtohisgoading,Irollthebottlebetweenmyhands,feelingmorethanhearingtheclinkoftheglassagainstmysilverringsoverthecountrymusicblaringthroughthisbar.
“Thoughtyou’dbeinabettermoodafterwinning.Again.Woulditkillyoutogivetherestofusamomentinthesun?”
“You’reyoung,Theo.Workharder.Earnit.Spuryourbullmoreandholdonfordearliferatherthantakingthepathofleastresistance.Mediocreisn’tgoodenoughtowinonthistour.”
I’mbeingharsh,butit’sprobablytimeforhimtolevelup.Ifhisoldmanwerestillaround,he’dtellhimthesamething.Irememberhimdoingitwithme.
Herubbedmybackuntilonedayheshovedmeintothedeepend.Toughlove.ItworkswhensomeoneisascompetitiveasIam.Likeachallengetodobetter.
Theosnorts,hisheadrearingbackalittle.He’splayingitcool,butIcantellbythesparkinhiseyethatI’vetickedhimoffatad.Justtherightamounttomakehimwanttobebetter.Smallincrementsallthetime.
Igetarealkickoutofwatchinghimdevelop,andIlovebeingthereforhimevenifIwishitwerehisdadinsteadofme.
TryasImighttokeepmyeyeslaseredonthebrownbottleinmyhands,theyslipovertowhereIknowSummerissittingwiththatsleazebag,Emmett.AllIcanseeisherback,thetaperofherwaistwhereherbrandnewWBRFt-shirtistuckedintothosetight-as-fuckjeans,cinchedwithsomebeltthathasacolorfulstitchedpatternonit.Thewaytheyhugherhipswhereherbodyflaresoutisdistractingbeyondcomparison.
Hisstoolistooclosetohers,andheleansclosetosaysomethingtoherwhilelaughingandshit.Allhappy-go-luckygoldenboy,whileI’msittingoverherebroodinglikeaNeanderthal.
“DoyouthinkhookingupwithCindyisabadidea?”Theopullsmyattentionbacktohimwithacompletesubjectchange.
“Idon’tknow.Whywoulditbeabadidea?Shelikesyou.That’swhyshepulledmeaside.TofindoutifIknewwhatyouwereuptotonight.LikeI’msomefuckingschoolgirlwhowantstogossipaboutrelationshipstatus.”Ishakemyheadandtakeanotherswigofmybeer.
Duringpastseasons,ifIfeltlikecelebratingafteragoodride,I’drolloutoftheringandsnagmyselfabunny.Buttheappealhasslowlybutsurelywornoff,andthegirlskeepgettingyounger.Tooyoung.
OrIkeepgettingolder.Iguessthat’smorelikely.
“Becauseshe’sabucklebunny,man.She’sbeenwithotherguysonthetourtoo.”
“Whendidyoubecomeavirginagain,Theo?PrettysureIsawyouballsdeepinoneofherfriendswhenIwalkedintothelockerroomonce.”
Helaughsloudlynow.“Forgotaboutthat.”
“Butdoyoulikeher?”
Hebobshisheadbackandforthwithashysmile.“Yeah.IguessIdo.”
“So,whocares?Maybeitworks,maybeitdoesn’t.Justdon’tbeapigaboutit.Beupfront.Bucklebunnieshavefeelingstoo.”Iwinkathim.
“Ah,datingadvicefromthefamousladies’man,RhettEaton!”HeholdshisbeerbottleuptomeincheersandIignoreit,optingtojusttakeanotherswig.I’mnotsosuremypastbehavioristobecelebrated.
IsneakapeekoveratSummeragain.Ican’tkeepmyeyesormindfromwanderingtoher.IfsheleaveswithEmmett,Imightcombust.
Heslingshisarmoverthebackofherchairlikehehasarightto.
“Speakingofgirls…”TheowaggleshiseyebrowsandpointshischinoveratSummer.
“What?”Ibiteout.“Mybabysitter?”
“Iwouldn’tjudge.Fuckingthebabysitterisathingforareason.”
“IthoughtItoldyounottobeapig?”Ihavetoremindmyselfhe’sonlytwenty-two—andwalkingaroundwithaconstantboner—beforeIbitehisheadoff
“Whatever,man.Justsaying.Youcan’ttakeyoureyesoffher.It’salmostlikeyou’rejealous.”
Iresolve,righthereandnow,tonotlookoverthereagain.
“OfEmmettBush?”Isnort.“That’llbetheday.I’llstarthighlightingmyhairandgoingforfacialstogethisKen-dollglowjustsoIcanbemorelikehim.”
“Youdefinitelydon’tsoundjealousatall,”Theomocks.
Itakeanotheraggravatedswig.“Good.CauseI’mnot.”
“Icanseewhyyouwouldbethough.Shelooksdamngoodonthatbull.”
“What?”IwhiparoundsofastthatIknockmybottleintheprocess,rightingitjustbeforeitcreatesmorethanasmallpuddleofbeeronthetable.
ButwhenIglancebackup,sureenough,Summerhasclimbedontothemechanicalbull.It’ssurroundedbyfoammats,andacrowdhasgatheredaroundthelowbarrieraroundthecircle.
Hersmallhandiswrappedaroundthegrip,andherpalejeansaresotightthatIcanseethefoldwhereherthighmeetsherhip.
She’sgrinningwidely,andwhenshelooksatEmmett,hertopteethdigintoherbottomlip.
Thosefuckinglips.
Shegivesasmallnodandgigglesasshedoesit.Lookingsocarefree.Soyoung.Somuchhappierthansheusuallydoesinmycompany.
Theguyoperatingthemachinestartsitup,andherhipsrockwiththemotion
Ihavetolookaway.Mybrainisfried,andmycockisthickening.Iwanttothrowherovermyshoulderandcarryheroutofhere.Putmymarkonher.
It’sunlikeanythingI’veeverfelt.
Butshedoesn’twantthat.Shedoesn’tneedthat,andIkeepremindingmyselftobeagentleman.ItoldTheonottobeapig,andIneedtomakesureI’mnotbeingoneeither.
IswivelonmystooltofaceTheoandchugtherestofmybeerbeforewavingattheservertobringmeanother.
Ineedit.
“Hey,guys.”Cindywalksup,lookingatTheolikehe’sacakeandit’sherbirthday.“How’sitgoing?”
“Great.”Theosmilesandpatsthestoolbesidehimself.
Idon’tsayanything.Thepheromonesbetweenthemdonothingbutannoyme.IwishtheonlythingkeepingSummerandmeapartwasthatwewerebothtoostupidtojusttalktoeachother.
Instead,shehastobeallsmart,andresponsible,andcareerdriven.Makingusaproblem,wheninanyothersettingwe’dbeano-brainer.
“Yourgirlcanride,Rhett,”Cindysays,noddingoveratSummer.
Ofcourse,shecan.She’sstrong.Thatshecansitonamechanicalbullbetterthantheaveragepersondoesn’tsurprisemeonebit.I’vewatchedherworkout,watchedthatassclenchinhertights.I’vewatchedsweattrickledownbetweenhertits,herlipspartedasshepantsfromatoughsession.
IchanceaglanceovermyshoulderbecauseI’maseriouslyweaksonofabitchwhereSummerHamiltonisconcerned.Sureenough,she’slookingdamnfineupthere.Armup,chindown,shouldersback.
Butit’snotgoodforbusinesswhensomeonelaststoolong,andIturnawayjustastheoperatorjerksherintheotherdirection,forcinghertoloseherseat.
“She’snotmygirl.”Ihearthecheersforher,knowingthatsheprobablyfinallytookhertumble.
Ihopeshe’sokay.
Theorollshiseyes,butashetakesinthescenebehindme,theygowide.
“You’reright,”Cindyagreeswithanod.“ItlookslikeshemightbeEmmett’s.”
Thistime,Istandstraightup,catchingsightofSummerasshepullsEmmett’scowboyhatoffandplunksitonherheadastheyheadovertothebaracrosstheroom.
Andthat’sit.
I’mstridingacrossthebar,gettingtoherasfastasIcan.Itfeelslikeittakesforever,butithastohavebeenundereightseconds.
SummeristuckingashotintohercleavagewhenIgettoherandknockthatfuckinghatrightoffherhead.
“Whatthe—”Shestopstalkingwhenshecatchessightofme.“What’swrong?”Shelooksgenuinelyconfused.Likeshetrulyhasnogoddamnideahowcrazyshedrivesme.
HowbadlyIwanther.
“Hey,man.”Emmettslithersuplikethefuckingsnakeheis.“Youknowtherules.”
“Yeah,Ido.Butshedoesn’t.Keepyourfuckinghattoyourself.”
“Whoa,whoa,whoa.”Summerremovestheshotglassfromhercleavageandholdsthathanduptostopus.“Whatrules?”
“Don’tworryaboutit,doll.Let’sdothebodyshot.”Emmetttriestoredirecttheconversation,edginghisbodyinfrontofminetoblockmeout.
Butmylimbsarelonger,andIreacharoundhimandstealtheshotrightoutofSummer’shand.“Notafuckingchance.”
Emmettturnstoglareatme,allthatpolite,sunny,farmboybullshitpersonameltingrightoffhim.“Beatit,Eaton.”
“Didyounothearme,Bush?Isaidnotafuckingchance.Iknowyourgames.Playthemsomewhereelse.Breatheonthisgirlthewrongway,andI’llendyourighthereratherthanjustkickingyourassinthering.”
Hiswateryblueeyesnarrowasheglaresatme,jawpopping,shouldersdrawntight.Itdoesn’ttakearocketscientisttoknowthathewantstohitmerightnow.Iwishhewould,soIcouldstomponhisstupid,shiny,predatoryface.
It’sSummerwhostepsupnow,thatsexysmirkplasteredonherfulllipsassheraisesahandtopointatme.Iknowshe’stryingtodiffusethesituation,tokeepmeoutoftrouble,whichiswhyI’msosurprisedwhenshesays,“Okay.Thenyou’redoingtheshot.”
Shedoesn’tdropmygazeasshestepsinfrontofEmmett.He’sbehindherandthepackedbarisbesideus,butallIseeisher.
Eyestwinkling,cheekspinkwithexertion,darkhairlooseandwildaroundhershoulders.
Summerpuffsoutherchestinmydirectionandmyeyesdroptotheswellsofherbreasts,thelineofcleavage,andtheverticalscarthattracesupthecenter.“Putitin.”
Igroan.Shenibblesonherlip,awareofwhatshe’sjustsaid.So,Istepcloser,holdingmyselfbackfromrunningmyhandsalloverher,andlifttheslenderglass.Slowly,Ipressitbetweenhersoftbreasts,trailingthepadofmyringfingerovertheroundedtopofherfleshbeforetracingthelinethatgoesupherentirechest.Thescarthatshedoesn’tbothercoveringupbecauseshe’ssofuckingstrong.Sobrave.
Itouchtheraisedskin,notcaringhowpersonalitfeelstobedoingthisinpublic.Goosebumpseruptoverherchest,andevenovertheblaringmusic,Icanhearherquietgasp.Ifeelthewayherbreathslidesacrossmyskin.It’sfuckingdistracting.Ithasmycockswellinginmyjeans.
Herhanddartsout,andsheholdsupacanofwhippingcreamwithachallengingglintinhereye.We’vebeendancingaroundeachotherawkwardlysincethatdayatthefence.We’vebarelytalked,butnowshe’slookingatmelikeshewantstodoanawfullotmorethantalk.
“Inthemoodforsomedairyproducts,Rhett?”SheshakesthecanandbeforeIcanstopher,shespraysalineofitfromtheshotglasswedgedbetweenhertitsrightoverthelengthofthescar.
It’sfuckingpornographic.Ormaybeit’sjustbeenawhileforme.Eitherway,IwanttogetherthehelloutofheresoIcanbendheroverandspankherperfectassforputtingEmmett’shaton.Putheronherkneesandshovemycockbetweenthoselipsthathavebeentauntingmeforweeksnow.WatchhereyeswidenwhenIhitthebackofherthroat
Shestaresupatme,whippedcreamtrailingupthemiddleofherchest,endingwhereherpronouncedcollarbonesdipdownandmeetthesoftspotatthebaseofherthroat.“Oristhatgoingtobetoomilkyforyou?”
Idropmyheadinherdirection,blockingsomeoftheonlookersoutwiththebrimofmyownhat.“Youwantmetolickwhippedcreamoffyou,Princess?”
Hertonguedartsout,wettingherbottomlipashereyesperusemybodyinthehungriestway.
“Yeah.IthinkIdo.”
Idon’tneedhertoasktwice.Icrouchlow,pressingmytonguetoherbareskinasherhandsmoldtomyshoulders.Mymouthslidesoverhersternum,andIdon’tbotherbeingpoliteaboutiteither.Ilick,Idragmyteeth,andwhenIgettothatsoftdip,IsuckatherskinbeforeIpressagentlekissagainsther.
Herfingersgraspmyshirt,andhereyesarelaserfocusedonmewhenIspareaglanceupatherface.
Igivehermybestcocky,panty-meltingsmirkanddivebackdownbetweenherbreasts.Oneofherhandsslidesoverthebackofmyneck,herfingersrakingthroughmyhairbeforetakinghold.Mylipswraparoundtheshotglassofsomethingsyrupyandsweet.SomethingIwouldnevernormallydrink,butifSummerwantsmetolickitoffeverysquareinchofherdelectablebody,Iwillhappilyspendhoursobliging.
Istandtallandwrapanarmaroundherwaist,tuggingheragainstmeasItipmyheadbackanddowntheshot.
Icanfeelherheartpoundingagainstmyribs.Shefitsrightundermyarm,likethatspotwasmeantforher.
“Okay,myturn.”Emmetttriestostepin,butIturnSummerawayundertheshelterofmyarm.Thethoughtoflettinghergonowisalmostunbearable.Tohim,toanyone.
Turn?Thisisn’tbowling,asshole.“Ialreadytoldyou.Notafuckin’chance.”
IhearhimtrytosaysomethingtoSummer,butI’vegotherbythewristandhaveaclearshottothedoor.
We’regettingthefuckoutofhere.20Summer
Dad:Summer,whatdidyoudotothatpoorboy?
Summer:Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.ButIdowisheveryonewouldstoptalkingaboutamaninhisthirtieslikehe’sachild.Oradog.
Dad:Okay.You’redefensivetoo.Gotit.
Summer:I’mnotbeingdefensive.I’mjustpointingsomethingout.
Dad:Defensively.
***
“Wherethehelldoyouthinkyou’retakingme?”Iaskrightasweclearthedoorsintothecoolnightair.CoolairthatIdesperatelyneedafterRhettEatonjustsetmyentirebodyonfire.
I’mmadathim.I’mhotforhim.Andthosetwothingsblenduntilthey’realmostindecipherable.
Rhett’sbreathpuffsoutinfrontofhimaswefaceoff.“AwayfromEmmett.Beforehetellsyouaboutthecowboyhatrule.”
Iscoff.“Whatthehellisthecowboyhatrule?”
“Youwearthehat,youridethecowboy.”
Myeyesbulgeintheirsockets.“What?”
“Youheardme.YouwannatakeEmmettforaride,Summer?”Hisvoiceispurevenom,andIlurchback,notrecognizingthistoneonhim.
“WhatifIdo?”I’mnotbackingdownjustbecauseRhett’sgoingallcavemanonme.“Seemsanawfullotlikenoneofyourbusiness,seeingashowtheminuteyouhadachanceyouwerealloversomeblondebuckleb—”
Igotoholdupahandbetweenus,theonestillholdingthestupidwhippedcream,andclosemyeyes.“Youknowwhat?Itdoesn’tevenmatter.ForaminutethereIhadamajorlapseofjudgmentandjust…forgetaboutit.”
Spinningonmyheel,Iturnandstormtowardthecrosswalk,relievedthatourhotelisacrossthestreet.Ijammyfingeratthebutton,willingthelighttochangeasquicklyaspossiblesoIcangetthehellawayfromRhettbeforeItumblerightintothedeepwellofpoordecisionmakingthatI’mstaringdowninto.
Ifeelhimcometostandbesideme,buthesaysnothing.Wewalkintensesilence.Thechirpingsoundofthewalksignalisouronlycompanionasthethumpingmusicfromthebarfades.Myfingerswraptightlyaroundthewhippedcreamcan,andIenvisionitbeingRhett’sneckforamoment,buttruthfully,thatjustmakesmypalmssweat.
WhydoeshehavetobethefirstguysinceRobwhogivesmebutterfliesinthechest?AndnotthesamekindIgotasahorned-upteenagerstaringatpicturesofhim.Thesebutterfliesalmosthurt.Theyfeellikethey’rewrithingbeneathmyskin,takingovermystomach,impedingmyvision.
BecauseallIcanseeisRhett.OnthebackofmyeyelidswhenIsleep,andwithmeallthefuckingtimewhenI’mnotasleep.
It’slikehe’sbecomeanextensionofme,anecessarypartofmypersonalecosystem.Infatuationbyproximity.It’slikeIneverevenhadashot.
Wewalkintothehotel,himjustasteportwobehindme.Wedon’tlookateachother,wedon’ttalk,butthemostintensesenseofanticipationgrowsinmychest.Expanding,pressing,aching.
Iwantittostopandcarryonforeverallatonce.Iwanttopeekathim,butIthinkifIdo,therealityofwhatwe’reabouttodomightscaremeoutofwhatevertranceI’min.WhateversenseofresolveI’vecometo.
Wewaitatthebankofelevatorswithoneotherperson,andwhenwestepintothespace,RhettandItakeoppositewalls.Icrossmyarmsundermybreasts,thecoolmetalcanpressingagainstmyribsandseepingthroughmyshirtwhileIstareathimacrossfromme.
Theothermantakesthespaceinthemiddle.Helookstired,readyforbed,notnearlyasampedupasRhettdoes.Rhettlookslikeadownedpowerlinesparkinginthedark.
AndIthinkI’mabouttopickthatlineupandlettheelectricitycoursethroughme.
Whenthemanrealizeshe’sstandinginthemiddleoftwopeopleeyeingeachotherliketheymightsetoneanotheronfirewiththepoweroftheirsightalone,hestraightensup.Icatchhimpeekingatus,headswivelingashepeersateachofus.
Whenwereachhisfloor,theelevatordings,andIswearheshakeshisheadashegetsout,likeheknowstherewillbesomesortofbrawlbetweenus.
Whenthedoorsslideshutbehindhim,mybodytingles—thetipsofmyfingers,upmyinnerarm,intothatdipbehindmyelbow,beforeshootingstraightintoanachebeneathmybrastraps.
Rhettstaresatmelikenomanhasbeforeinmylife.AndforallthetimesIcouldn’tdecipherhislookandthoughthewasglaringatmewithirritation,orfrustration,ordistaste…
IrealizeIwaswrong.
He’sstaringatmelikehewantsme.Reallywantsme.Likeheachesforme.Likehemightmelt,justforme.
Mybreathingquickens,eyesscouringhisfeatures.Heavybrows,straightnose,deep,warmeyes,allthatscruff.GodknowsI’vestaredenoughathimovertheyears,andhejustkeepsgettingbetter.Firmbroadshoulders,narrowwaist,andlong,leanmuscles.
Whentheelevatordings,Istartleandswallowhard,watchinghisAdam’sapplebobinasimilarfashionasheholdsahandouttogesturethatIgofirst.
Mylipspresstogether,butIexit,mindwhirringwithwhattodonext.
Ishouldgotomyroom.
Ishouldgotohisroom.
Ishouldtakeafreezingfuckingshower.
IshouldrunstraightdownthishallwayandjumpthroughthewindowlikeJamesBondgettingawayfromasupervillainbecausenomatterwhatIdo,thisisgoingtoendpoorly.Ijustknowit.
RhettEatonwillruinmeifIgivehimtheopportunity,andIdon’tevenknowwhattodowiththat.
IthinkImightwanthimtoruinme.
Aswewalktowardourside-by-siderooms,Ifocusonbreathing.I’msohyperawareofhispresenceImightforgettobreatheifIdon’tactivelyremindmyselftodoit.
WhenIfinallyreachmydoor,IplaceonepalmflatagainstittoholdmyselfupasIwaitforhimtowalkpastme.Thisishandsdownthemostoutofcontrol,confoundingfeelingintheworld.Iwanttostareathimallnightlong,andIwanttosqueezemyeyesshutandneverlookathimagain.
“Rhett,I—”
“Gotobed,Summer.”
Isnapback,surprisedbywhathe’ssaying.“Gotobed?”
“Yes.BeforeIdosomethingdistinctlyungentlemanliketoyou.”
Mybrowsshootup,takenabackbyhisdirectness.
“Likewhat?”Myvoicecomesoutquietanduncertain.Ourslightlyhostilebanterismycomfortzone,butalonewithamanlikeRhettEaton,lookingatmethewayheis,well,it’swaythehellandgoneoutofmywheelhouse.
SexwithRobwasrushedandunsatisfying.
Thefriends-with-benefitssituationIhadduringlawschoolendedwithunrequitedattachments.
Andthatone-nightstandIhadwas…justbad.
Idon’tknowwherethehellthatleavesmewithRhett.Idon’tknowwhatIwantfromhim.ButIknowIdon’twanttogotobed.
Notaloneanyway.
Amuscleinhisneckjumpsandhecrosseshisarms,shirtbunchingaroundhisbiceps.“I’dstartwiththoseprettyfuckinglips.”
MylashesflutterandawhimperstallsoutinmythroatasItrytoworkouthowIshouldrespondtothat
Iopttotakethebullbythehorns.Withonestepforward,myhanddartsoutandIyankthesaddle-browncowboyhatoffhisheadandplaceitonmine.Hisleatherandlicoricescentrushesinaroundme,andIsigh.
I’dliketobottlethatifIcould.Sweetandearthyandsodamnmasculineallatonce.
HegrowlswhenIstepawaywearinghishatandpushmybackagainsttheflatwallbetweenourrooms,lettingasmallsmirkplayonmylips.RevelinginthewayhiseyesheatwhenIdo.
Withtwosteps,he’stoweringoverme.Myheadtipsbacktotakeinallhisagitatedglory.
“YouknowwhatI’msickof,Summer?”Hishandcomestomythroat,flutteringovertheskinsogentlythatIarchtowardhimtoincreasethepressure.
“What’sthat?”
“HavingyouthinkI’moutfuckingeverythingthatmoveswhenI’velookedatnothingandnoonesincethefirstdayIlaideyesonyou.Isteppedintothatgodforsakenboardroom,andyoupracticallydemandedIbecomeobsessedwithyou.”
Igaspforair,renderedspeechless.
HisfingerpadsstrokemyneckwithsuchtendernessthatIblinkupathim,moreemotionalthanIbankedon.
“DoyouknowwhatelseI’mfuckingsickof?”
“What?”Myquestionisabreath,awhisper—aplea.
Hishandmovesup,andhisthumbpushesdownfirmlyonmychin,gentlyforcingmymouthopenwide.There’ssomethingcrudeaboutit,butthewayhe’slookingatmeashedoesithasmetremblingwithanticipation,mypussywetandslickwhenIsqueezemythighstogether.
“Havingtospendallday,everyday,withyouandthissmartmouth…”Hissparehandyanksthecanofwhippingcreamfrommysweatygrip.Heholdsitup,hittingmewiththemostsinfulgrin.
“AndnotbeingabletouseitthewayIwantto.TofillitthewayIwantto.”Hisvoiceishusky,butIbarelyhavetimetoregisteritbecausethewhooshofthepressurizedcreamfillingmymouthpermeatestheairbetweenus.
Whenhestops,hepressesmychinbackup,closingmymouth.“Howdoesthattaste,Princess?”
“Mm,”isallIcanmanageasmytastebudsdancewiththecreamysweetness,whileeverynerveendingdanceswithscorchingelectricity.
“Goodgirl.Youwishthatwasmycum,don’tyou?”AstrangledwhimperlodgesinmythroatasInodbackathim,trappedinhisambergaze.Thenheleansinclose,breathdampagainstmylipsandgrowls,“Swallow,Summer.”
Sharpanticipationracesthroughmyveins,andImakethisdesperatelittlemoaningsoundasIswallowforhim.“Arewedoneplayinggamesnow?”Hisvoiceisheavy,fullofpromise,raisingthehaironmyarms.
Inod,nervouslylickingatmylipsandunabletodrophisgaze.
“Good.”Histhumbstrokesthesensitivespotbeneathmyearashegripsthebackofmyneck.“Now,tellmehonestly,Summer.Ifthiswereyourlastmomentonearth,whatwouldyouwantmetodo?”
Idon’tevenneedtothinkaboutit.IknowwhatIwantfromhim.
“Ruinme.”
“Good.I’maboutfuckingdonebeingagentlemanwithyou.AndtheonlythingI’mruiningyouforisanyoneelse.”
Heswipeshiskeycardandshovesusthroughthedoor.
AnditlookslikeI’mgoingtohisroomafterall.21Rhett
Idropthecanofcreamonthecarpetrightastheheavydoorclicksshutbehindus,andallbetsareoff.Myentirebodyhumswithneed.Forher.
Ruinme
She’dtoldmetoruinher.TheonlythingI’mgoingtoruinherforisanyotherman.I’mgoingtogiveheranightshe’llnevergetover.Anightthatwillkeephercomingbackformore.
Ipushheragainstthecloseddoor,thebrimofmyhatonherheadbrushingagainstmyfaceasIswoopintotasteherlips.Butthistimeit’snotforshow.Thistimeit’sbecauseshetoldmethisishowshe’dwanttogoout.Kissingme
Andfuck,astatementlikethatisapowerfuldrug.
Ikissherlikemylifedependsonit,likehersdoestoo.Welatchontoeachother,herarmscurlingaroundmyneckwhilemineroamherbody.
It’sadesperatesortofkiss,fullofangstandlonging.Sheseemsrushed.Likeshethinksthismightend.Likethere’satimelimitonthisthingwe’redoing.
Ipullbackjustalittle,cuppingthebaseofherhead,herhairsilkybeneathmyhand,herbreathinglabored,herbreathsweetlikesugarycream,handsstillfeverishlytuggingatme.“Stoprushing,Princess.We’vegotallnight.Saveyourenergy,you’regoingtoneedit.”
“Fuck,”shewhispersasshesucksinasharpbreath.
“Letmeshowyou.I’mgoingtotakemytimewithyou,”Imurmurbeforetakingherlipsslowly,swallowingthesweetlittlehummingnoiseshemakes,feelingherarmssoften,handstracingacrossmyshoulders.Hernailsdragandashiverracesdownmyspine.
Idon’tknowwhatthisisbetweenSummerandme,butIwanttoworshipatherthrone.Iwanttogiveherthebestofeverything.Thebestofme.
Sheslideshertongueagainstmine,andItastethewhippedcreamIjustmadeherswallow.Evenwithmyeyesclosed,Icanseethewayherthroatworked,thewaysheswalloweditthewayItoldherto.It’sburnedonthebackofmyeyelids.
Didn’tthinkmycockcouldgetanyharderthanitalreadyis,butitpushespainfullyatthezipperofmyjeansatthememory.
Islidemyhanddownthecurveofherbody.MythumbflicksathernipplethroughthethincottonshirtasIclearherbreast,andshewhinesintomymouth,tryingtorushtheleisurelypaceI’veset.
“Greedygirl,”IgrowlasIpullbackandpressakisstothebottomlineofherjaw.
Ikissjustbesidehermouth.
“Rhett.”Mynameonherlips.Fuck.It’saprayer.It’saplea.It’smygoddamnundoing.
Ikisshercheek.
“IthoughtIgotoffonhearingfansscreammynamefromthestands.”
Ikisshertemple.
“Buthearingyoumoanit?”
Shetiltsherhead,givingmemoreaccess.Askingformore.
“Hearingyoumoanitissomuchmoresatisfying.”
Ikissthespotjustbelowherear,andshesquirmsagainstme.Shegoesallbreathyandmoansmynameagain.“Rhett.”
“Youlikethat?”Inipatherear.
“It’sthebeard.Itfeelssogood.I…I’veneverhadthatbefore.”Thegirlwhoisusuallysoputtogetherandwell-spokenisapuddle,allbecauseofmybeard.
AndIgetoffonit.Igetoffonbeingthefirstmantogiveherbeardburn.Herneckisn’tsafetonight,neitherareherinnerthighs.
Ichuckleanddragmyteethdownthesideofherthroat,fueledbyhermoans.Byherhipsrockingtowardme.Byherfingersinthebackofmyhair.
Myfingerslandatthewaistbandofhertightfuckingjeansandreachintotughershirtout.Iinstantlysqueezethetaperofherwaist,hersmoothwarmskin,notingthestrapofwhateversexyfuckingpantiesshe’swearingcomingupoverherhipinthemostalluringway.
Andthen,I’mpushingthewhiteshirtupoverherhead,wantingitoffasquicklyaspossible.Wantingtoseewhatshe’shidingunderneaththiswellputtogetherexterior.
Herarmsraise,andastheshirtclearsherhead,myhattopplestothegroundatherfeet.ButIleaveitthere,justtotakeinSummerproppedagainstthedoor,wildhair,chestheaving,fullbreastspusheduphighintheredlacebra.Strapsofmatchinglacepantieswedgeduphighoverherjeans.
Shelooksalittleunsteadyandalotdesperate.Totallydisheveled.
AndIlovethislookonher.
Icrouchquicklytoswipethehatandthecanbeforereplacingthehatonherhead.Myhat.Igroanandshutmyeyesatthefuckingwetdreambeforeme.
“Youshouldseeyourselfrightnow.”Herteethdigintoherpuffybottomlip,reallycompletingthewholelook.“Sofuckingpretty.”
“Please,don’tstop.”
“Wasn’tplanningonit.Justadmiringtheview.”
“Losetheshirt.”
Ichuckle.“Theresheis.Mybossygirl.”Istepcloser,crowdingheragainstthedoor.“Youwantitoff,doityourself.”
Anexpressionofdefianceflashesacrossherface,butwithinmoments,sherelents.Hersmallhandsreachforthebuttonsofmyshirt,andshenimblyworksthefirstcouplethroughtheholes.
Whenshepeeksupatmewiththatlittlesmirkonherlips,Iknowshe’sabouttopullsomethingnaughty.Shegripsmyshirtandrips.Buttonsflyallaroundus.
SheseemsamuseduntilIyankherbradown,thesoundoflacerippingloudinthequietroom.
“Hey!”shestarts,butherbaretitsareexposedrightinfrontofme.Allsoftandfull,nippleshardasrocks.Theneonlightsfromtheshittybaracrossthestreetcastablueglowintheroomthataddstoheretherealbeauty.Eventhescardownthecenterofherchestsuitsher.Abattlescar.Atestamenttohowhardshe’sfought.Howfuckingstrongsheis.
I’mabsolutelystarstruck.
“ThatbrawasLaPerla.Youowem—”
Ishutherupbysprayingacircleofwhippedcreamoverherrightnipple.Insteadofreamingmeout,sheswapstomoaningandrunningherhandsthroughmyhairwhenIdropmyheadandsuckherbreastintomymouth,takingalongpull.
HerchestarchesintomeasIlickthewhippedcreamfromherbody.Amilkproducthasnevertastedsogood.Icanfeelthegoosefleshofherskinagainstmylips,andonceI’vecleanedheroff,Igrazehernipplewithmyteeth.
“Mm,”Imurmur,slightlyleaningbacktoadmirethewayherbreastglistensbeforereachingbehindherandremovingthetornbraentirely.
Shewatches,speechless.
Igofortheothernipple,coveringitincream,pausingforamomenttoappreciatehowshelooksallscandalizedandpaintedwithsugarycream.
It’sgivingmethefilthiestideas.IdeasIletplaythroughmymindasIdropmyheadagainandtakemytimecleaningheroffwhileshemoansandwrithes.
WhenIstraightenanddropthecanonthefloor,Icupherbreastsandgrindownather.
“Ithoughtyouhatedmilk?”shehuffsout,allglassyeyedandeager.
“I’mdevelopingatasteforit.”IgrowlasIliftherup,pressingherintothedoorandkissingheragain.Herlegswraparoundmywaist,squeezingmyhipsasshesearsmewithakiss,myhattopplingoffherheadtoourfeet.
AllIcantasteiswhippedcreamandcherries,andallIcansmellisher
AllIwantisher
WhichishowIfindmyselfcarryingheracrosstheblue-lithotelroomwithlongsurestrides,ignoringthetwingeinmyshoulder—becausewhoneedsafuckingshoulderwithagirllikethis?—andtossingherdownonthebed,herdarkhairshimmeringoutaroundher,likeraysofsunshineoffhersweet,freckledface.
Wepauseforasecond,hersplayedoutacrossmybedwhileIstandentrancedbetweenherknees.Thisisthemomentwherewefullyconsiderifwe’reabouttodothis.
“Doyouwantme,Princess?”IaskasItugabootoffeachofherfeet.
Herlipspart,andshestaresbackatmewhenIdropthemonthefloorwithaheavythud.“Yes.”
Ireachdownandunbuttonherjeans,steppingawayonlytodragthemdownherlegs.“Why?”
“Because…”
Idiscardthemandstaredownather,pantieswedgedhigh,showingtheoutlineofherpussy.Igroan.Thatpairedwiththeknee-highsocksshe’swearingandhertitsondisplaycouldmakemeblowonthespot.Paintherwithsomethingelseentirely.
Steppingclosersomykneesbumpupagainstthemattress,Igripbehindherkneesandspreadherlegswide.AsIdo,herpantiesslideover,exposingoneofherbarelips.
“Fuck,Summer.Fuckinglookatyou.”
Shewhimpers,handsfallingtohertitslikeshe’stryingtocoverthem.ButIcatchherrollinghernipplesbetweenherthumbandforefinger,clearlytryingtoavoidansweringmyquestion.
“Tellme.Tellmewhyyouwantme.”
Herlipsrolltogether,herpantingaudible.
“Youwantthis?”
Shenods.
“Talktome,Summer.Youwantmetofillthistightlittlecunt?”
“Fuck,”thewordwhooshesoutofherashereyeswideninsurprise.Suchaproperlittleprincess.
“HaveIgotyourattentionnow?”
“You’vealwayshadmyattention,Rhett.”Herconfessioncomesoutquietandsoft.Likeasecretsharedbetweenlovers.Andlikeabalmtomydeepestwounds.
Igroanandreachforward,runningmythumbovertheseamofherpussy,feelingherpulseandclenchagainstme.Feelinghowwetthelacethereisalready.Nudgingthestripoffabricaside,Ipushafingerinandrevelinher,smoothandslick.Drenched.
“You’resoaked,Summer.Isthatmessallforme?”
IswearIcanseehercheeksflushpink,moreofapurpleintheblueglow.
“Yes,”shesaysmeekly,soundingalmostembarrassed.And,well,that’sjustnotgoingtodo.
Sheneedstoknowhowwildthismakesme.
“Iloveit,”Igrowl,droppingtooneknee,slingingherlegovermyshoulderandtuggingherasstotheedgeofthebed.WhenIpullthescrapoflacetotheside,IfeastmyeyesonwhatI’donlyfeltbefore.
“Allthisforme.”Irubherpussyagain,feelingherlegclampdownonmyshoulderasherheadshylyflipstooneside.“Whatafuckingtreat.”
Shetriestopressclosedherfreeleg,andIslideonefingerintoherwetheatwhiletuttingher.“Nah,nah,nah.Don’tgetallshynow.Legswideopenforme,Princess.”
Islideonehandupthebackofherthightoopenherasshebreathesoutaquiet,“Okay.”
Pressingakisstotheinsideofherknee,makingsureshefeelstheraspofmybeard,Iask,“ShouldIkeepgoing?”
Shetakesabeattorespond.So,Iwait,bestowingmorekissesupherinnerthigh,grinningwhenherhipsbuck.“I’venever…well,thisisnew.”
Ifreezeforamoment,lookingoverheroutlinefromwhereI’mkneeling.“New?Likenoonehastastedthis?”Irubheragain,andmycockjumpswhenIrealizeshe’sevenwetterthanbefore.
Sheshakesherheadno.
DoctorDouchereallyisthefuckingworst.ButIdon’tsaythat.Instead,Ireachforthelaceunderwearanddragthemdownherlegs.Ifthisisgoingtobeherfirsttimeridingaman’sface,it’sgoingtobegood.Andtherearen’tgoingtobeanyfancypantiesintheway.
Whentheyclearherankles,Iresumemyposition.“That’sacrime,Summer.Aterribleshame.”Islideafingerinandfeelhercontractaroundmeasshegasps.“ItseemsIhavesomewrongstoright.”Ipumpinandout,raptlywatchingherpussytakemyfinger,andthentwo.“AndI’mnotevensadaboutit.Doyouknowwhy?”
“Why?”sherepliesquickly,voiceallraspyandthick.
“Becauseifthisweremylastmomentonearth,that’showI’dwanttogo.”Ithrustinhardnow,watchingherbodyshakewiththeforce,hearinghercurse.“Headbetweentheseprettylittlethighs,yourpussyonmytongue.”
Iholdherwideopen,dropmyhead,andgettowork.22Summer
Myeyesrollbackinmyhead,andIseestars.Brightandshiny,almostblinding.I’veheardgoodsexcomparestoanout-of-bodyexperience,andIneverquiteunderstoodthatsentiment.
ButwithRhettEaton’sfacebetweenmylegs,Ido.
Bothhismuscledarmslooparoundmylegs,andonehandsplaysacrossmystomach,holdingmedown.Theotheriswrappedtightaroundmythigh,andhisfingersdiginsohardthatIfeellikehemightleavebruisesrightnexttotheonesfromthesaddlepinchingmeafewdaysearlier.
Histongue.
His.Tongue.
Hisgoddamntongue.
He’slickingme,almostthewayhedidatthewhippedcreamonmybreasts,reverently,butwithjustenoughpressure.Justenoughsuction.
Justtherightamountofteeth.Heslideshistonguerightintome,andwhenItrytosquirm,hiscallousedhandpushesmeharderintothetoo-softmattressbeneathmyback.Hisbeardispricklyandroughagainstmypussy.Gratingonmyinnerthighs.Increasingmypleasuretenfold.Partlybecauseoftheactualsensation,andpartlybecause,well,becauseit’sRhett.
RhettEaton.Myteenagedcrush.RhettEaton.Sexsymbol.RhettEaton.Ladies’man.
Orishe?I’mthinkingthat’sanoutdatedperceptionthathehasn’tbeenabletoshake.
Hesaidhe’sbeenobsessedwithme.Thatwasalmostasshockingashowgooditfeelstohavehismouthbetweenmylegs.
IthoughtRhetthatedmebuttoleratedme.
Butbasedonthethingshe’ssaid,itseemsIhavebeenwrong.Very,very,wrong.
“Rhett!”Icryout,onehandstillworkingatmynipplewhilemyothershootsdowntohishead.I’malternatingbetweenfeelingself-consciousandnotgivingafuckbecauseit’sjustsodamngood.
Hepullsback,pausing,“Tellmewhatyouwant,Summer.”
He’skillingmewithallthistalking.Havingtosaythingsoutloudisfirmlyoutsidemycomfortzone.Foramanwho’sneverbeenhugeonchatting,hesurehasalottosayoncemyclothescomeoff.
Ipushupontomyelbowsandlookdownathim,hiseyesstillfixedonmypussy.“Iwantyoutostopmakingmesaythingsoutloud.”Ihalflaugh.
Hiseyesflituptomineandhegrins,themostcarnalgrin,beforehelickshislipsandwinksatme.“WhatcanIsay?Ilikeyourpinkcheeksandwatchingyousquirm.”
Iblushharder.
Hegentlyunhooksmylegsandstands,toweringovermyexposedbody.Makingmefeelremarkablyvulnerable.Hedropshisruinedshirtonthefloorandquirksabrowatme.“DidItellyoutostop?”
“Stopwhat?”
“Touchingyourself.Keepgoing.”
Iswallow,wonderinghowI’mreactingtohimthisstrongly.It’sconsuming,andIdon’tevenconsidersayingno.Instead,Ifallbackontothebedandslideonehandupmystomachbeforegrippingmybreast.
Idothesamewiththeopposite,butwhenmykneestiltinward,hiscallousedpalmgivesonelegalittlepushopen.“I’mnotdonewiththat,”hegrowlsasheshucksoffhispants,turningbrieflytopullsomethingoutofhisbag,givingmeagloriousviewofhisass.
Roundandmuscled,andsogoddamngrabbable.
Whenhecomesback,he’sholdingafoilcondompackage.Hiscockishugeandhardandit’spointingstraightatme.“Youstillwantthis,Summer?”
Hesoundsalmostuncertainnow,likehe’sconcernedImightturnhimaway.
“Yes,”Ibreathe,wantingtogivehimmore.“Iwantyouinsideme.”
Thelocksofhishairhavefloppedoverhisface.Helooksmessyanddelicious,andIthinkevenalittlebitself-conscious.Iwonderwhathewantsmetosay?Whathe’stryingtourgeoutofme?
Ithoughtitwasalldirtytalk,butthewayhe’swatchingmenowasherollsacondomoverhissteelylengthhasmewonderingifit’ssomethingelse.
“Iwantyouontopofme,”IblurtoutawkwardlyasIsitup.Mydirtytalkneedswork.Hiseyesnarrowashefistshiscock,butIkeepmygazeonhisfaceasheadvancesonme,myheartthunderingagainstmyribs.Likeitwantstojumpoutofmybodyandgiveitselftothisman.
LikeitknowssomethingIdon’t.
Withhimfinallyhoveringoverme,Ireachbetweenustogriphisthickcock.Anditisthick.“Jesus.I’mgoingtopayforthistomorrow,aren’tI?”
Rhettsmirks.“Ifyou’renotwalkingbow-leggedtomorrow,Iwon’thavedonemyjobtonight.”
Nowhelookssoplayful,sodelicious,soconfident.Hisfullattentionisonme,andonlyme.HelookslikethetypeofmanIcouldeasilygetwrappedupinandbeleftstandingwithnothingbutabrokenheartattheend.
Iswipetheheadofhiscockagainstmyslickcore,grindingonhistip,watchinghiseyesfluttershut.
Hekissesme,asearingkissthathasmytoescurlingandmyhipsarchinguptomeethim.Andthen,he’spushingintome—slow,andsteady,anddelicious—fillingmeupandgivingmybodythetimeitneedstoadjust.Iliftalegandwrapitaroundhisback,pullinghimnearer.Wantinghimcloser.
“Fuck,Summer,”hegrowlsagainstmylips.“Justfuck.Howareyouthisfuckingtight?”
MynailsskateoverhisbackasIletmyhandsroaminawaytheyneverdidwhileImassagedhim.ThereisnothingremotelyprofessionalaboutthewayI’mtouchingRhettEatonrightnow.
Whenhebottomsout,restinginthecradleofmyhips,hegroans.“Areyouokay?BecauseIthinkthisisaboutaslongasIcanhandlebeinggentle.”
Inipathischin.“IthoughtItoldyoutoruinme?”
Herearsupaboveme,deadlyseriousandpainfullyhandsome.“Carefulwhatyouwishfor,Princess.”
Hepullsallthewayoutbeforeshovinghimselfbackin.Mybodyshakesandmyheadtipsback.Ifeeleverypointofcontactbetweenus,everyinchofskin,everyhair.Evenhisgazeisheavyonme,likehe’spullingmysouluptomyskinwiththelookinhiseyealone.
Hesetsaslowbutpowerfulrhythm,fuckingmehard,watchingmyeverymovement,absorbingeverynoise.
Ononehand,it’sborderlineunnerving.Ontheother,IfeellikeafuckinggoddessbeneathRhettEaton.Likehecan’ttearhiseyesawayfromme,likehehasallthetimeintheworld,likehe’llneverforgetthis.
Orgetenough.
IknowIneverwill.
Mymoanscomeatahigherpitchashepushesmybodytaut,buthepullsout,dropstohisknees,andfeastsonmeagain.
Thechangeinpressure,feel—theentirething—itleavesmybodyreelingtocatchup.AlightsweatbreaksoutacrossmychestashefucksmewithhistonguelikeI’mthebestthinghe’severtasted.
“Rhett,”Igasphisname,completelylosttothesensationofhimplayingmybodylikeaninstrumenthe’smastered.
“Yes,Princess?Yougoingtotellmewhyyouwantthisnow?”Hestandstall,grippingmyanklesashegoes,foldingmehowhewants,whichatthiscurrentjuncture,hasmyfeetupnearhisshoulderswhileheloomsovermelikesomesortofwildgod.
Thenhe’slininghimselfup,slidingintomeagain.Goingsodeep.Fillingmewitheveryinch.
“Idon’tknow,”Ipant,eyeslingeringonthewayhisskinshimmerswithperspiration.
“Tryagain.”Hethrustsintome,settingamorepunishingpace.Hisheadtipsback,highlightingthebumpofhisAdam’sapple.Witheverystroke,mymoansgrowlouder,morefrenzied—justlikehismovements.“I’llkeepyouscreamingallnightuntilyoutellme.”
Fuck,amIscreaming?
Rightwhenmynerveendingscoilagain,whenI’mreachingforthatspotthatIsobadlywanttohit,hepullsoutanddropstothefloor.Leavingmeemptyandbreathless.
“I’llhaveyoucomingallnightlong,Summer.Butnotuntilyousayitoutloud.Iwanttohearit.”Hisfingersslowly—soslowly—rubmyswollenclit.Hepumpstwofingersin,thesoundofhowwetIamforhimenoughtomakemeblush.Buthejustchucklessoftly,deeply.“Youwanttofuckabullrider,baby?”
Hisheaddropsandhelapsatmeagain,tongueflat,hismovementsmeasured,draggingmebackawayfromtheedge.
“No.”Myhandsfindmybreastsoftheirownaccord,bodyachingforrelease
Hesucksmyclitintohismouth,grazinghisteethalongmypussy.
“Takeawalkonthewildsidewithacowboyratherthanyourfancycityboys?”hemurmurs,thesightofhisheadbetweenmylegsburningitselfintomymemory.
“No!”Myresponseismoreforcefulthistime.
Hesucksharder,andmylegsfallopenwider.HowIwentfromneverhavingdonethistodevouredbythekingofeatingpussy,I’llnevertrulyknow.ButI’mdefinitelynotgoingtocomplainaboutit.EspeciallynotwhenI’mfinallybarrelingtowardrelease,pushingmyselfdownonhim,fingerswantonlypinchingmynipples.
Buthepullsaway.
Iletoutafrustratedgrowlandpushuponmyelbows.Hegivesmeadevilishgrinandquirkofabrow,likeheknowsexactlywhathe’sdoing.
“Tellmewhyyouwantit,Summer.”Hisvoiceisgruff,withabitethatwasn’ttherebefore.
It.
Ithitsmethathetalksabouthimselflikeacommodity.Maybethisisn’tagameforhimatall.Maybehereallyistryingtofigureoutwhyagirllikemewouldwantamanlikehim.
IpinhimwithmyeyesasIsitupontheedgeofthebedandreachforhim.“Idon’twantit,Rhett.Iwantyou.”
Myhandsrunoverhim,gentlysearching,buthestaysquiet.Watchingmelikehealwaysdoes.“I’mtiredofdoingwhatIshouldandignoringwhatIwant.AndwhatIwantisyou.Insideme.Allaroundme.Iwantyouwithme.AndIwanttobetheonlyone.”
Outloud,itsoundssoinsecure.Butmyheartcan’ttakebeingbrokenagain.Itcan’twithstandamanlikeRhetttreatingmelikeI’mnothingmorethanarollinthehay.Idon’tknowwhatitallmeans,butIknowIwanthimtounderstandthisisn’tcasualforme.Imaynotknowwhatitis,butit’snotthat.
Hestaresatme,asthoughhe’sprocessingwhatI’vejusttoldhim,beforeheleansbackoverme,cuppingmyskullinhisbighandswithsomuchtendernessthatmychestaches.
“You’vegotme,Princess.Onlyyou,Ipromise,”hehusks,beforekissingme.Aconsumingkiss.Itastemyselfonhislipsandfeelhisbeardonmycheeks.Hishairdropsaroundus,closingusintoanintimatebubble,andIsmileagainsthismouthbecausehe’sallaroundmerightnow.
Afteracooldownmoment,mybodyheatsagainforhimsoeasily.LikeIhaveaswitch,andhe’stheonlyonewhoknowswhereit’slocated.
Weexchangenomorewordsashegentlyliesmebackdown,keepingourbodiescloseashedoes,kissingmeaswego,dragginghismouth—hisbeard—untilI’masquirming,whimperingmessbeneathhim.Hisfacehoversovermine,hiselbowsdropontothebedbesidemyhead,andhestaresintomyeyes.
Alwaysstaring.Likeifheblinks,Imightdisappear.
Thepadofhisthumbswipesacrossmytemplereverently,brushingawispylockofhairfrommycheek.Thebluntendofhiscocknudgesmythighaswebaskinthismoment.Thisanticipation.Becausesuddenly,thisnightfeelsdifferent.
“I’veneverwantedsomeonesobadlyinmylife,”Iconfesstohim.Hisrespondingsmileissoft,oneI’mnotsureI’veeverseenonhim.
Histhumbstillstrokesatmytemplewithheart-achinggentlenessasheslideshimselfintome.Wesighinunison,andthenhesays,“Meneither,Princess.Meneither.”
Wekiss,wetouch,herocksintome,hefucksmeuntilIshakebeneathhim.Oneverysurfacewecanfind.Hespendstheentirenightprovingjusthowbadlyhewantsme,pullingmeapartateveryseam,watchingmecrumbleforhimoverandoveragain.
Ithinkhecrumblesabitformetoothough.
Whenwe’rebothbonelessandexhausted,hepullsmeintothecradleofhisbodyandholdsmelikehe’llneverletgo.
Andwhenhefeelshowcoldmyfeetare,hetangleshiswarmlegsagainstthem23Rhett
Kip:Iseverythingokay?NeitherofyouhaveansweredmytextsaboutyourmeetingwiththeAriatguys.
Rhett:Yes,Daddy.Everythingisfine.Someofussleepatnight.
Kip:Iwasworriedshemighthavekilledyou.Justlookingoutforyou,son.
Rhett:Shealmostdid.
***
IsleepmorecomfortablythanIhavein,well,ever.Summerfitsagainstmelikeshewasmadeforme.Idon’tevenmindhercold-assfeet.
Iwakeuptopullhercloser,ortothumbapieceofhersilkyhair,ortobrushafeatherlightkissagainstthosepuffylips.Butitneverreallyfeelslikewakingup,justanextensionofmyblissfulcomfort.Wesmelllikesoapandmintytoothpaste,becausetruthfully,wehaven’tbeenasleepforthatlong.
It’sthesensationofbeingwatchedthatfinallydrawsmyeyesopeninthealreadylightroom.Summeriswedgedundermyarm,hairatangledmess,lipsallswollenandpink,barefacesprinkledwithfreckleslikesugarontopofacupcake.
WhenImeethergaze,shedoesn’tlookaway.
“Isthiswhenyoukillmeinmysleep?Youmentionedthatatonepoint.”Mymorningvoiceisraspy,andsoishersoftchuckleasIsqueezehertighter.“You’vebeenplayingthelonggamethisentiretime,haven’tyou?Youdidn’thaveateenagedcrushonmeatall.You’vebeenplottingmymurderforoveradecade.”
Shenuzzlesherfaceintomychest.“Shutup.”
Hereyelashessweepagainstmyskinasherfingersswirlinmychesthair.
“Areyouhidingfromme,Summer?”Ifistherhairandgiveitatug,forcingherchinup.
“I’mjustworkingthingsoutinmyhead.”
Yeah,well,Ican’tsayIdidn’tseethiscoming.Iknewshe’dtakeoffinthemorning.AllthepeoplewhoIwanttostayneverdo.It’stheonesIcan’tgetawayfromfastenoughthathangaround.Theoneswhowantsomethingfromme.
Igruntnoncommittally,feelingirrationallyattachedtoSummeraftergettingnakedforonenight.Whichisbrandspankingnewforsomeonewhoonlyeverwantsonenight.
“Don’tgruntatme,RhettEaton.”
Isighandscrubatmyface,wantingtofallbackintothequiet,happylullbeforethisconversationstarted.“Whatareyouworkingout?”
Shepeeksupatme.“Well,forstarters,howtoconvinceyoutogoagain.”
Mybrowsraise.“Yeah?”
Shegrins.“Yeah,butlookatthetime.Youneedtobeatthearenaforanotherinterviewandameetingwithasponsorinonehour.”
Irollherontopofme,notcaringatallaboutthefuckingtime.Especiallynotwhenherlegsstraddlemywaist,andshesighslikesheknowsshebelongsthere.
“Fuckthemeetings.”Igripherwaistasshetapsatherlip.
Thesheetpoolsaroundherwaistandthesunshinesinbrightlybehindher,highlightingthebeardburnacrossherchest,justabovewhereherperttitsstarebackatme.
“I’malsotryingtofigureouthowI’mgoingtocontinuesleepingwithaclientwhoonlyhasone-nightstands.”
“Fuckone-nightstands.”Myhandsglideupoverherribs,pushingherbreaststogether.
“Itwouldbeunprofessionalformetocontinuebut…”She’ssmilingnow,lookinglightandsweetandtotallyfuckable.
“Fuckprofessionalism,”Igrowl,tweakinganipple.
“Yes,well,KipHamiltonmightnotsharethatsentiment.You’restillaclient.”Hereyessober.
“FuckKipHamiltontoo.He’sfired.”
“Rhett—”
Isilenceherbyslidingonehandupandpushingmythumbintohermouth,watchingherlipspart,andtheflashofherpinktongueasIpressdownonit.“Ifyoukeeptalkingaboutthingsthatdon’tmatter,we’regoingtorunoutoftimetodothingsthatdo.”
ShejustnodsandsucksmyfingerasIgrindmyrock-hardcockupintoherbareass.“Nowshutupandrideme.Iwanttowatchtheseprettytitsbouncewhileyoucomeonmycock.”
Hereyeswiden,almostcomicallywide,butshepushesupontoherkneesanddropsherselfdownonmewithawantonlittlemoan.
ItoldherI’dwanttogowithmyheadbetweenherlegs,butIthinkI’dsettleforbeinganywhereclosetoherinmylastmoments.
***
“Theinterviewwentwell.”SummerpacesinfrontofmewhileImethodicallytapemyhands.
“Yup.”Icanhearthemusicandthecheeringfromthearenaallthewaybackhereinthelockerroom.
“AndIthinktheguyfromWranglerseemedhappywithwhatyouweresayingtothem.”Frommyperiphery,Iseehertwistingherhandstogether.
“Mhm.”Ipayspecialattentiontomythumb.Itstilltwingesfromgettinghungupafewweeksback.
“Plus,youdowearthemwell.”
Ipeekupathernow,allseriousandanxiouslooking.“Wasthatacompliment?”
Shefurrowsherbrow.“Yeah.”
“Huh.”Igobacktowrapping,lipstuggingupasherfingerstapagainstthesideofherthigh.
“Igiveyoucompliments,”shetellsme.Likethatsomehowmakesittrue.
“Okay.”
“Ido.”Hersnakeskinbootstomps.“Doyouneedmetogushoveryoulikeeveryothergirlontour?OrlikeeverynewscasterBarbiewhointerviewsyou?”
Igrindownatmyhands.IfSummer’sjealousywerewater,I’dwanttobatheinit.“No,Princess.Watchingyougetjealousovermeisvictoryenoughforasimplemanlikeme.NeverknewI’dlikethatsomuch.Youaredownrightadorable,allpinkcheekedandworkeduplikethis.”
“Ha!”shebarks,loudwithdisbelief.“That’srichcomingfromyou.Youpracticallycarriedmeoutofthatbarlastnight!”
“AndI’ddoitagain.Emmettknowstherearelotsofgreatplacestoburyabodyonmyranch.Noonewouldeverfindhimagainifhelaidahandonyou.”
Ichuckle,butSummergoesquiet.Herfingerstaponherlegsagain,whichpullsmygazeuptoherprettyfacefromwhereI’mseatedonthebench.
“What’swrong?”
“Ikeptyouuptoolatelastnight.Youshouldhavebeenresting,gettingreadyfortoday.You’reanathlete.Youneedtoprepare.”
Shechewsonherbottomlip.Sheseemsworried.
“Summer,I’mfine.Comehere.”Iopenonearm,andsheinstantlystepsacrossthegroundseparatingus,huggingmetoherchest.Ipressmycheektohersternum.Ifeelherheartbeatasherfingersslidethroughtheendsofmyhair.
“Becareful,okay?”shewhispers.“Don’tgivemeaheartattackoutthere.”
“Thatjokeisinrealpoortasteforyou,Summer.”
Shelaughs,butit’sthin.Tinny.
Ihughertighter,andsheleansdowntopressakisstothetopofmyhead.Understandingdawnsonmewhatshe’snotsaying.Whatwe’rebothnotsaying.Ican’t,becauseifIwentoutthereeveryweekendwithevenasmallflickeringoffearinme,I’dnevergetonthatbull.Logicwouldtakeover.Survivalinstincts.
AndI’dbedone.
ButI’vegotthoseinstinctsstrappeddowntight.OnemorechampionshipandmaybeI’lltakemygoldbuckleandhangupmyhat.
PreferablyonSummerHamilton’shead.24Summer
Kip:WhydidRhettsendmeatextsayingthatI’mfired?
Summer:He.Didn’t.
Kip:Hedid.Itsaid,“Fuckprofessionalismandfuckyou.You’refired.”
Summer:Well,he’snotwrong.Thatcertainlyisn’tveryprofessional.Idon’tthinkyou’reactuallyfiredthough.
Kip:OfcourseI’mnotfired.Thatassholeisstuckwithme.
***
Summer:Howisyourshoulder?Areyoutapingit?Doyouwantmetocometapeit?
Rhett:Fine.Don’tcomebackhere.Itsmellslikesweatyballs.
Summer:Thankyouforthevividdescription.Iwasreadingaboutpulsedelectromagneticfieldtherapyforrotatorcuffinjuries.Maybeweshouldtryit?There’saphysiotherapistinthecitywhodoesit.
Rhett:Iwaskindofjusthopingyou’dgivememoremassages?Buttoplessthistime.
Summer:I’lldothatifyougototheappointmentIscheduledfornextweek.
Rhett:Dailymassages.Whereyouridemydickwhilerubbingmyshoulder.ThenI’llgo.
Summer:Isyourshoulderthatbad?
Rhett:No,Princess.Yourpussyisjustthatgood.
***
WatchingRhetttonighthasmewantingtohurlmyfifteen-dollararenabeeralloverthepeopleinfrontofme.Emmettwentfirstandhadagreatride,somethingIknowRhettsawbecausehewassittingupontopofthegatewithTheowatching
Isawtheflashofcompetitioninhiseye.Hespentallnightwithhisdickinsideofmeandstilllookslikehecouldkilltheguy.
There’sthistinypartofmethatwisheshe’djusthopoffthatfenceandretireonthespot.Iwanthimsafe.Iwanthimtowintoothough.Iwantthatforhim.
ButIalsowanthimformyself.
It’sfuckingconfusing.I’veneverworriedaboutanotherpersonthisway,andthat’ssayingsomething,consideringI’vespentmyentirelifeworryingabouteveryonearoundme.
Theohopsdownontohisbullnow,givingRhettabitofanunhingedgrinashedoes.IwatchRhetttalktohimasTheorubsathisbullrope,nodding—listening.There’sanintensityabouttheirconversationrightnowthatIhaven’tnoticedbefore.
Usually,thingsarelightheartedandfriendlybetweenthem,buttonightthere’sadefinitementorfeeltotheirinteraction.It’sheartwarmingandnerve-wrackingallatonce.
Thebullslamsitselfagainstthemetalsidesofthechute,andwhereInoticedRhettbackoffinsimilarsituations,Theogrins,dropshischin,andnods.
Thegateflies,andsodoesthebull,likeabatoutofhell.Theolookslikeayounger,smallerRhett,spursridingupeverytimethebullbearsdown.Herideslikehislifedependsonit.Andbasedonhowriledhisbullisandhowmanytimesitswitchesdirections,Iwouldsayhislifeactuallydoesdependonit.
IbarelyknowTheo,butIholdmybreathallthesame.Onmynightsspentsittinginthestands,I’veseenotherguysgetheadbuttedandsteppedon.I’veseenthemleavestrappeddownonastretcher.
Inalotofways,it’shardtowatch,inothers…Ican’ttearmyeyesaway.
So,whenTheojumpsoffandtosseshishatintheair,Ishootupandcheer.Thebulllopesoutofthering,chasingtheclown,andTheosoaksupthecheersofthecrowd.Hescoreshimselfa90,whichpusheshimtothetopofthestandingsforthisweekend.
WhenIlookbackoveratthefence,Rhettissittingthere,grinningeartoear.Sodamnproud,chestpuffedout,pridespillingoffhim.
Healsolooksfuckingdelicious.Darkandmysteriouswithhishatpulleddownlowonhisface,charcoalshirtunderhisbullridingvest,andthosesimplewarmbrownchaps.
So.Good.
Whenhehopsdowntogostretchandwarmup,mymomentarycalmdissolvesandthenervescreepin.
Ihatethefeeling.IhatethatI’mhavingit.I’vecometotermswithdeathinalotofways.Knowingthatyourtimecouldcomeatanymomentatsuchayoungagedoesweirdthingstoyou.Somehow,thethoughtofmedyingiseasiertoswallowthanthethoughtofhavingtosithereinthestandswhilesomethingmighthappentoRhett.
Idon’twanttobethisgirl,tellinghimnottotakerisksbecausemyheartcan’ttakeit.So,Ipushitdown,likehetoldmehedoes.
Itakeafewbigswigsofbeerandletmyselfeavesdroponthesurroundingconversations.Andwhenit’sRhett’sturn,Itakebiggergulps.
Iwatchhimeverymoment,absentlyawarethatitcouldbethelast.It’sliketimeslowsdown.Iseehiscockysmile,thewayhischeeksfoldbesidehismouthwhenhegivesit.Icanalmostfeeltheraspinessofhisbeardonmyneckjustbywatchinghim.
Hepullsatthebullrope,lookinghypnotized,andItrytoslipintothattoo.
Andthenhedoessomethinghe’sneverdone.Hepeeksupatmefrombeneaththebrimofhishat,likeheknewexactlywhereIwassitting.
Hewinksatme.
Andthenhenods,andthegatesflyopen.
***
“Youweresoclose.”
TheripplingofwatersoundsasRhettswipesafaceclothovermyback.Thisshittyhotelbathtubistoosmallforthetwoofus,butwe’repackedintoitanyway.HetoldmeifI’mgoingtocontinuetoforcehimtotakeEpsomsaltbathsthatIhavetocomeinwithhim.
SohereIam,seatedbetweenhislegsinthehottest,smallestbathknowntoman.
WhileRhettEatonwashesme.Andkissesme.
ThisishowIwanttogo.
“Ah,ifI’mgoingtolosetosomeone,I’dhaveitbeTheo.Givehimayearortwo,andhe’llbewinningleftandright.”
“So,like…anewer,shinierversionofyou?”Itease,butitendsinagaspwhenhewrapsmyhairaroundhisfistandgivesitatug.
“Watchthatprettylittlemouth,Summer,”hemurmursagainstmyear.
Hiserectionpressesagainstmyback,butwe’vemostlyignoredthatinfavorofjustsoakingforabit.
“Orwhat?”MylipstipupasIglanceovermyshoulder,hopingtoegghimon.
Hechuckles,makinggoosebumpsraceovermyflushedskin.“Ornothing.I’moutofcondoms.”
“Idon’tknowiftheytaughtyouthisatcowboyschool,butIcan’tgetpregnantfromgivingblowjobs.”
Hereachesaroundandroughlysqueezesoneofmybreastsashepullsmebackagainsthim.“Jesus,woman.Thethingsthatcomeoutofyourmouthsometimes.”
Igiggleandsoftenagainsthim.“Fine.Fine.Youstartedit.”
“Startedwhat?”
“This.”
Ifeeltherumbleinhischestagainstmyshoulders.“Ididnot.”
“Youdid.Youkissedmefirst,”Ijoke.
“Huh.Ithoughtyousaidthatmeantnothing.”Hetrailsthewashclothovermyarmsnow.
Iclosemyeyesandsigh.Ididsaythat.AndatthetimeImeantit,oratleastIwantedto.“IneededittomeannothingsoIcouldmaintainsomesenseofprofessionalism.”It’sapainfullyhoneststatement,andthere’sapartofmethatwishesIcouldtakeitback.
ButforasmuchasRhettandIribeachother,Idon’tthinkhetakesmelightly.Menwhotakeawomanlightlydon’tlookatawomanthewayRhettlooksatme.
Thatlookcouldbeallinmyhead.
MaybeI’munravelingoveralookthatdoesn’tevenexist.
“IstakingEpsomsaltbathswithyourclientssomethingtheyteachyouatlawschool?”Hischestshakesunderthestrainoftryingnottolaughathisownjoke.Dork.
Igroanandcovermyfacewithmyhands.“Rhett.”
Hepressesakisstothecrownofmyhead.I’mprettysurejusttokeephimselffromlaughing.
“It’snotfunny.Idon’tknowwhatwe’redoinghere.AndI’vespentyearsinschoolandtensofthousandsofdollarsonittodothisjob.Thisis…Idon’tknowwhatI’mdoing.”
“Ithinkyoudo.Ithinkyou’redoingwhatyouwantforthefirsttimeinyourlifeandthat’sscaryforyou.”
“Yeah.Maybe.”
“Ithinkyoudon’tneedtoworryaboutifI’maclientornot.Ithinkthathasnothingtodowithwhat’sbetweenyouandme.”
“It’stheperception—”Itrytosay,butheinterruptsme.
“Whatperception?Haveyoudonethisbefore?Youplanningtodoitmoreinthefuture?Ordoeswhat’shappenedbetweenushavenothingatalltodowithwhateitherofusdoforwork?Doyouthinkifwe’dmetunderdifferentcircumstances,itwouldbedifferent?”
“Youmighthavebeenlessofagrowlypricktome,”Isay,tryingtosteertheconversationawayfromwhatfeelslikesomethingbiggerthanwhatI’mreadytoface.
“I’mserious,Summer.I’mnotsurewhyyoukeeptalkingaboutourjobslikeitmatters.We’renotdoinganythingwrong.IthinkDoctorDouchehasyouscaredthatthere’ssomethingshamefulaboutbeingwithanotherperson.Thatyouneedtohidesomethingyoudon’t.”
Well,shit.Isheright?IflipthroughthementalRolodexofmypastrelationships.
I’venevertakenguysoutwithme.Neverintroducedthemtomyfamily.OnceWillastraightoutaskedmeifIwasgaybeforeassuringmeshe’dbecoolwiththat.
MaybetheearlyinputofthinkingIneededtohidearelationshipwithgenuinefeelingsmademebelievethatwastrue.
“I…well…fuck.”
Hesqueezesmeandnuzzlesagainstthebackofmyhead.“I’vealwaysdonewhateverIwant.NeverbeenbigonwhatotherpeoplethinkIshouldbedoing.Iimagineapersonsomewhereinbetweenthetwoofuswouldbeideal,becauseI’veprobablyburnedafewbridgesalongtheway.”
Isnortatthat.“You’reprobablynotwrong.I—”Istarttoprotest,buthecutsmeoff.
“Whatifyoustoppedworryingabouteverythingthatcouldgowrongandjustletyourselfenjoyhowrightthisfeels?”
Hepressesawetkisstomybackandmybodycomesaliveashiscallousedpalmsslipovermysoapyskininthemostsensualway.MyheadtipsbackandIsighatthefeelofhimplayingmybodywithsuchfinesse.
Itdoesfeelright.
“I’llburnmorebridgestotakeakickatthecanwithyou,Summer.Givemeashot.”
Mylashesopenandcloserapidly.Myheartisflippingoversomethingthatmybraincan’tquiteprocess.Mycanfeelsthoroughlykickedbyeverythinghe’sjustsaid.Mytongueisalsothoroughlytied.
Rhettjustleavesit,though,carryingon.“Yousaidoncethatyou’dbecomeapersonaltrainer?”
Igostill.DidImentionthat?“Idon’trememberthat.”
“Ido.Ireadbetweenthelines.I’veseenyouworkout.I’veseenhowhardyouworkandhowreliableyouare.Ifyoucoulddoanythingasajob,woulditbewhatyou’redoingrightnow?WhatKipdoes?”
Irollmylipstogether,gratefulthatIdon’thavetofaceanyonerightnow.“Probablynot.”MyvoicecrackswhenIconfessit.
“Thenwhydoyoudoit?Whykeepupthecharade?”
Iexhale.“It’snot…it’snotacharade.It’sjust,Ienjoyseeingmydadhappy.Iknowhowproudheisofme.Iknowhelikeshavingmeattheofficewithhimeventhoughheactslikeapsychopricksometimes.Hefracturedhisfamilytokeepme.Hegaveupsomuch,andwhenIgotsick,hedroppedeverythingtobewithmeeveryday.IjustfeellikelivinguptosomeofthosethingsforhimistheleastIcando,youknow?Ijustfeellike…God,thissoundsterribletosay,butIfeellikeifitwasn’tforme,hislifewouldbesomucheasier.AndifIcanhelphimbybeingapartofthebusinesshe’sspenthislifebuilding,ifIcancarrythatonforhim,well,that’stheleastIcandotorepayhim.”
Rhettdoesn’trespond.Hejustkeepsstrokingmyarm.“Ican’tspeakforKip,onlythewayhe’stalkedaboutyouandyoursisterovertheyearsinpassing.Andhemaybeapsychoprick,buthedoesn’tstrikemeasthetypeofmanwhoexpectsrepaymentfortimespentwithhisdaughter.”
Myeyessting,andInod.There’salittlevoiceatthebackofmypeople-pleasingheadthat’sscreamingyes!IthinkIknowdeepdownthatRhettisright,butfacingthatalsomeansfacingthatI’vespentthelastseveralyearsofmyliferelentlesslychasingadreamthatisn’tactuallymyown.
AbreathwhooshesoutofmeandIdropmychintomychest,squeezingmyeyestogethertight,wantingtoputthatwallbackupinmymindthatRhettjustcamecrashingthrough.
Thistime,hekissesthebackofmyneck,lipsmovingagainstmywetskinashewhispers,“Let’sgotobed.”
Hestandsbehindme,gatheringourtowels,whileIsitinthedrainingtub,watchingthewaterswirlinacyclone.AperfectreflectionofhowI’mcurrentlyfeelinginside.
Shakenup.Spinning.Thoroughlynotmyselfandyet,moremyselfthanI’veeverfelt.
“Summer?”
WhenIglanceupatRhett,inallhisruggedglory,thetipsofhislonghairwetanddrippingoverhistonedshoulders,ashiverrunsdownmyspine.He’sholdingatowelopenforme,andallIwanttodoisgotohim.
So,Ido.Istand,feelingthewaterslipoffmelikeaskinI’veshed.LikeRhettsomehowscrubbedloosememoriesandhang-upswiththatwashcloth.WhenIstepoutofthetub,Iexpecthimtodrophisgazeovermybody,buthetakesadeepdiveintomyeyes.
Idon’tknowwhyIdidn’texpecthimtodothat.He’sbeennothingshortofrespectful.Isitthereputation?Hislook?Thetoe-curlingthingshesays?
Itseemsunfairofmetothinkhe’dbeanythingshortofagentleman.Small-towncowboy,rougharoundtheedges,withawomanizingreputation,andhetreatsmebetterthananymaneverhas.Thananypersonhas.
Isighsleepilywhenhewrapsthetowelaroundmyshoulders.Buthedoesn’tleaveitatthat.Hegentlydriesme.Myhair,myneck,myback.Hekneelsbesidemeanddriesmylegswithsomuchcare.IthinkhedriesmebetterthanIusuallydrymyself.
Buthedoesplaceagentleniponthecheekofmyassbeforehestandsbackup,aboyishgrinonhisfaceandadevilishglintinhiseye.“Goliedown.”Hepointsatthebed,andwhereI’dusuallygivehimlip,Ijustgo.
BecauseIwantto.BecauseIdon’thavetofighthimanymore.BecauseIdon’twanttofighthimanymore.
WhenIgettothebed,Iflopfacedown,feelinglikeIcouldfallasleepinplace,ontopofthebed,wrappedinatowel.Iletmyeyesshut,butafterafewbeats,theyflutteropen.
Thetowelispulledoffme.IhearthesqueezeoflotionandtheraspofRhett’spalmsrubbingtogether.
Thosewarm,callousedhandsslideupovermybareback,andImoanbecauseitfeelsgood,butmostlybecauseIcan’tgetenoughofRhetttouchingmethewayhedoes.
“IfeellikeIshouldbetheonemassagingyou.”
“Ifeellikeyou’rewrong,”hehusks.AndImeltintothebed,soakingupthissideofhimIdidn’tevenknowexisted.Sweet,andtender,andswoony.
Somehow,thefacthelookssoroughandtumblemakestheswoonmoreintense.Hedoesn’tlooklikeasoftman,onetopulloutprettywordsortakeyouonlavishdates.
HeisnothinglikeanymanI’vebeenwith.
Andthat’sablessing.
“Iloveyourfreckles,”hemurmursfrombehindme,thepadofhisfingertracinglinesacrosstheexpanseofmyback.“Theyremindmeofalltheconstellations.LikeIcoulddrawlinesbetweenthem,andpictureswouldappear.”
It’ssuchanoddlyworshipfulthingtosay.Iwigglemytoes,humsoftly,andtipmycheekagainstthebedtogazebackathim.
“Righthere,therearetwosoclosetogethertheyalmostlooklikeone.”
“Likebinarystars,”Imurmur.
“Whatarebinarystars?”Hisfingertenderlyswipesacrossthespothe’stalkingabout.
“It’stwostarsthatlooklikeonetouswhenweseetheminthesky.Butreally,they’retwo.Stucktogetherbyagravitationalpull,alwaysorbitingoneanother.”
“Kindoflikethetwoofus,stucktogether,”hemuses.
It’sthatthoughtofusstucktogethertumblingthroughmyfadingconsciousnessthatleadsintothesoundofmyphonebuzzingonthebedsidetable.
WhichleadstoRhetttakinghishandsoffme.
Whichleadstomystomachdropping,becausewhatRhettsaysnextis,“ItsaysRobcalling.”
IpushuponmyelbowsandlookovermyshoulderatRhett.
“Whyishecallingyou?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isayhonestly.However,ifIhadtoguess,itwouldbesomethingtodowithRhettwinkingatmebeforeandafterhisridetonight.Tonight’seventwasbroadcast,whichmeansit’sfeasiblethatsomeonewouldhaveseenthat.ThatsomeonebeingRob,whousedtogivemetummyflutterswhenhecalled.Butrightnow,regardingthelitscreenofmyphoneinRhett’shand,allIfeelisdread.
“Idon’twanttotalktohim,”Isay,flippingoverandsittingup,pullingmytowelbackaroundmyself.ItopensupajarofwormsI’mnotreadytoshowRhettyet.IneedtofigureoutwherethisisgoingbeforeIgodownthatpathandexposeeverything.
Rhettpushesthephoneatme,hisfacehardandunreadable.“Answerit.”
Iquirkabrowathim,wonderingifhecantrulyhandlethis.BasedonthewayheflewoffthehandleoverEmmett,myguessisno.ButI’mnotinthemoodtoargue,soIpushmyselfuptothetopofthebedtoleanagainsttheheadboardandtakethephonefromRhett’shand.Withoutlookinghimintheeye,Iswipethescreentoanswer.“Hello?”
Rhettflopsdownonthebedbesideme.
“Summer?”Robasks,hisvoicepolishedandsmooth.Itdoesn’tmakemyhairstandonendatall.Itdoesn’tsoundroughandsexy,liketirescrunchingongravel.
“Yeah.”Obviously.Whothehellelsewoulditbe?“What’sup?Issomethingwrong?”
“Whydoessomethingalwayshavetobewrongformetocallyou?”
Myfacepinchesandmyeyesroll.Ayearago,thatmighthavesoundedsweettome,nowitjustsoundsstupid.
“Youshouldn’tbecallingmeatall.”
Rhett’sheadturnsinmydirection,andIfeelhisgazeonmelikeatouch.
“Iknow,”Robsays.ThoughIbarelyhearhimovertherushofawarenessRhett’sspurringoninme.
“Okay,so—”IstifleasquealasRhettsuddenlyreachesoverandliftsmeontopofhim.Mytowelfallsaway,andI’mstraddlingRhettEaton,bucknaked,hishandsgrippingmyhipswhilehelooksovermybodylikeitmightbehisnextsnack.
“Sorry,”Ibreathe,tryingtonotsoundasshockedasIfeel.“I,uh,droppedmyphone.”Rhettquirksabrowandthenholdsonefingerupoverhislipsintheuniversalsignforshh
I’mmomentarilyconfused.
Andthenhishandspushuponmyhips,rightashepusheshimselfdownthebed,lininghisfaceupwithmy…
“Oh,God,”Imurmur,staringdownintoRhett’shoneyedirises.Alltroubleandpromise.Iwidenmyeyesathim,asiftosay,Areyoufuckingkiddingmerightnow?
ButRhett’smouthtwistsinadevilishsmile.
“Everythingokay?”Robasks,whichisrightwhenRhett’shandstakeholdofmyhips,asthoughthey’rehandles,andpullsmypussydownontohisstubbledface.
IsuckinabreathandletmyeyesgowideintheirsocketsasRhettspearsmewithhistongue.Ican’tlookaway.“Yeah,yeah.Sorry,just,uh,clumsy.”
IthinkRoblaughs,butI’mnotreallylistening.I’mtoobusywatchingthebadboybetweenmylegsdosomethingvery,verybad.
“Whereareyourightnow?”
MybrainstuttersasRhettsucksatmycore.“Inmyhotelroom.”It’snotmyroom,it’sRhett’s.ButIfeellikeIbelonghere,andbasedonthelookinRhett’seye,helikesthesoundofittoo.
“So,listen,Iwantedtotalktoyou.Justcheckonyou,”Robprattlesonawkwardly,anditshouldbeawkwardforhim,evenifhedoesn’tknowwhat’sgoingonrightnow.
“Hm,”IhumandletmyeyesshutterwhenRhettdragsthepointedtipofhistongueovermyclit.
“Isawyouatthehospitaltheotherday.Withthatbullrider.”
“Rhett,”Itrytosayhisname,butittrulysoundslikemoreofamoan.Hisstronghandsgripmyassashegrindsmedownontohisface.
“Yeah.Whatever.”Robsoundsvaguelyannoyedbythementionofhisname,whichkindofpissesmeoff.So,IswivelmyhipsontoRhett’sface,gettingoffonthewayhegroanshappilywhenIdo.
FuckRobforneverdoingthisforme.Hehadnoissuewithmetakinghiminmymouth,andI’mnotsurewhyIneversawtheinequityinthat.ButIseeitloudandfuckingclearnow.
“Youneedtobecarefulwithmenlikethat.”
Mybodycoils,thatlineupmyinnerthighpullingtightasRhett’shandstracemytorsowithsomuchdesire.Icouldjustmeltontohimandstayhereforever.
“Menlikewhat,Rob?”Ibiteout,myvoicethick.IraiseoffRhett’sface,suddenlyworriedImightsuffocatehim,butwhenIstaredown,allIseeisvictoryinhiseyesandmywetnessshiningonhisbeardashelicksathislips.
It’slewd.
AndIloveit.So,Isitbackdown,tanglingahandinRhett’shairandtuggingattheroots.
“Youknow,Summer.Notlikeus.”Hashealwaysbeensuchapretentiousprick?“Uneducated.Unruly.Justadifferentbreed.”
Aprotectivestreaklurchesupinme.RobthinkshecantreatmethewayhehasandtheninsultRhett?Continuetomakeitimpossibleformetocarryonwithmylife?
Fuckhim.
“Youknowwhatheis,Rob?”I’mpantingnow,andI’mnotentirelysurehowhehasn’tfiguredoutthatI’mnotjustsittingpolitelyinmyhotelroomalone.
Guessyoucanbeadoctorandstillbestupid.
Rhett’stongueandlipsworkfuriouslybetweenmylegs,andhehasmebarrelingtowardrelease.AndI’mnotevenresisting.I’mchasingitnow.
“He’sthebreedthat’smanenoughtoeatpussy.”
“Excuseme?”Robsputtersontheotherendoftheline,butit’sRhett’swideeyesI’mlookingdownintoasIridehisface.Andwhenhisteethgrazemyclit,Iexplode.
“Ahh!Rhett!”IclickthesideofthephonetohangupasItossitandcollapseforwardontothebed,bowledoverbywhatfeelslikeatidalwaveofscaldinghotwatercoveringme.Mybodytremblesandshakes.Ifallapartandloveeverysecondofmyundoing.
AllIcanhearisthetwoofuspantingforafewbeatsuntilRhettbreaksthesilence.
“Wellshit,Princess.”HeslapsmyassasIflopdownbesidehim.“Ihopethatwasassatisfyingforyouasitwasforme.”
Igiggle.Ican’thelpit.IthinkRhettEatonmayhavejustmeltedafewofmybraincells.Afewofmyboundariesaswell,becausethatwasway,way,wayoutofleftfieldforthepolite,people-pleasingversionofSummer.
“Itreallywas.”IthrowanarmovermyfacetohidetheblushbuildingbecauseofwhatIjustdid.WhatIjustsaid.“Butalso,sogoddamnrude,RhettEaton.”
Hecompletelyignoresmyscoldinginfavorofasking,“Doyouthinkheheardyouscreammyname?”Thegleeinhisvoiceisn’tremotelyconcealed.
Igiggleagainandmyotherarmjoinsthefirst,coveringmyfacefromwhatwasbothaninvigoratingandsomewhatembarrassingexperience.“God.Idon’tknow.”
Rhettchuckles,hishandsproppedacrosshisbarechestnow.He’sallsmilesasheshakeshisheadandstaresupattheceiling.“Ihopeso.IthinkIgetoffonotherpeoplehearingyouscreammyname.”
Igrinandflopoverontomystomach,buryingmyfaceinthepillowsbecauseIthinkImightgetoffonittoo.Iwanttodigaholeandcrawlintheretohide,butIalsowanttoburstoutlaughingbecauseRhettpushesalltheboundariesIthoughtIhad.
He’snotashamed,morelikehe’sproudofmeandwantseveryonetoknowI’mhookingupwithhim.Whichisanaltogethernewexperience.
Imullthatover,feelinghimgetoffthebedandhearinghimshufflearoundbehindme.Whenhegetsbackonthebedbesideme,hesays,“Ifiguredoutwhatthefrecklesonyourbackspell.”
“Oh,yeah?”Isqueakout.
“Yeah.”
Ifeelafinepointonmyback.“Areyoudrawingonme?”
“No,I’mwritingonyou.”
“Whatareyouwriting?”Ilaughbecauseit’sridiculous.IfeellikeI’minjuniorhighalloveragain.
Hisrespondingchuckleislowanddeep.Itmakesmystomachflipandmycoretingle.“You’llhavetogolook.”
Rhettsoundssosatisfied,sosmug,andwhenIturnandglancebackathim,hisexpressionisaperfectmatch.
“Fine,”Isay,clamberingoffthebed.Ipadintothebathroom,theonethatstillsmellslikelavenderEpsomsalts,andturnmybacktothemirror.Igivehimacuriouslookashewatchesmefromtheedgeofthebed,andthenIturnbacktoseewhathe’swritten.
He’sconnectedthefrecklestosayMine
AndGod,inthismoment,Ifeellikethatmightbetrue.25Rhett
Rhett:Cometomyroom.
Summer:No.I’mnottiptoeingaroundyourdad’shouseandhavingsexwithyouonthesamefloorashim.That’stacky.
Rhett:ThereisnooneI’dratherbetackywith.
Summer:Myanswerisstillno.
Rhett:I’llcometoyourroom.Wewon’tbeonthesamefloorthatway.Everyonewins.
Summer:You’reananimal.
Rhett:Wecancallitateammeeting.
Summer:You’regoingtocallhavingsexateammeeting?
Rhett:Teambuilding?
Summer:Whatarewebuilding?LOL.
Rhett:Rapport.
Summer:Nicetry.
Rhett:WillyouatleastsendmeanudesoIcanjerkoffallsadandalone?
Summer:You’repathetic.Wannagoforamidnightdriveintherustbucket?LookfortheconstellationthatspellsMINE???
Rhett:Yeah.IfIgetyoudownonallfours,I’llfindthatoneforsure.
***
“So,how’stravelingtogetherbeengoing?”mydadasksoveramouthfuloffoodfrombesideme.Tablemannersarealostartinthishouse.Itwasenoughformydadtogetafullmealdowninfrontofthreeyoungboys.Well,fouryoungboys,consideringJaspermightaswellbeoneofusforhowmuchhehungaround.
He’sheretonighttoo.MadethetripoutofthecityforSundaydinnerbeforeBeaudeploysagain.
“Anyonegoingtoanswerme?”Harveyprods.
IglanceatSummer,who’sattheoppositeendofthetablefromme,wide-eyed,forkfrozeninmid-air.
Ialmostlaugh.She’saterribleliar.
“Great.”Ishrugandstaredownatmyspaghettiandmeatballs.Cademaybeagrumpyasshole.Buthe’sagrumpyassholewhocancook.
“Yeah?”Beauasks,acurioussmirkonhisface.“Thewildchildtreatingyouwell,Summer?”
Shepromptlyfillshermouthwithaforkfulofnoodles,noddingwithanawkwardhigh-pitchedlaugh,beforeshepointsathermouthapologetically,likethat’sthereasonshe’snotanswering.
Hereyesdarttomine.AndIlaugh.Ican’thelpit.
“He’srunningyouintotheground,isn’the?”Beauasks.Blesshim.He’ssosweet,hedoesn’trealizethebuttonhe’spressing.Cadedoesthough.Icantellbythewayhe’sglaringatmeacrossthetable.
It’shardtotellwhattypeofscowlthisis,butIthinkitmightbeonethatsaysYou’renotseriouslyfuckingyouragent’sdaughter,areyou?
I’mnotsosuremydadisfooledeither.
Me?Idon’tcare.IfIcaredwhattheythought,I’dhavestoppedridingbullsyearsago.I’dbehappytositnexttoSummerandslingmyarmacrossthebackofherchair.ButIknowshe’snotthereyet.Unlikeme,Summerreally,reallycareswhatpeoplethink.
Summerliftshernapkin,primlydabbingatherlipsasshetakesadeepbreath.Iwatchthemflattenandfillbackoutunderthepressureofherfingersandhavetoshiftmyselfonthechairtoaccommodatethewaymycockisexpandinginmypants.
Shesmilesserenelyatmybrother.“No,everythinghasbeenabsolutelyfine.Veryuneventful.Whendoyoudeploy?I’massumingwe’llseeyouallatthefinalrodeoweekend?”Shelooksaroundthetableinnocently.ButIknowhercommentisanythingbutinnocent.“It’sjustinthecity.I’msureyou’reallcapableofdrivingtosupportRhett.”
Thatdrawsalotofdroppedeyecontactandincreasedratesofchewing.I’mnotsurprised.Myfamilydoesn’tsupportmeinthisventure.It’snotanewconversationformeatthispoint.
“Sorry,Sum.”MyeyesnarrowatBeau,shorteninghernamelikeheknowsherwellenoughtodothat.“I’mheadingoutearlythisweek.DadandIaremakingitaroadtripacrossthecountry.”
ButSummerisafixer.Summersupportsthepeoplesheloves.I’msureshecan’tquitewrapherheadaroundthis.So,shejustcontinuestostareateveryoneexpectantly.
“I’llcome!”Lukesqueals.“Iwannabeabullrider,justlikeUncleRhett!”
Summersmiles.“Great,Icantakey—”
“No.”Cade’svoiceisdownrightarctic.Thisisnotaconversationhelikestohave.Notatall.
It’sJasperfrombeneaththebrimofhisteamcapthattakesovertheconversation.“I’lljoinyou,Summer.Iliveclosetothearena,andwe’reoffthatnight.”
Sheperksupwithatersenod,rollinghershouldersbackandglaringatmydadandbrothers.
“Wouldn’tmatterifyouhadagame.Youcouldtakethenightoff.That’showfary’allarefromclinchingaplayoffspot.”Beauguffawsathisownjoke.
Jasperrollshiseyes,shakeshishead,andmutters,“Fuckin’dick.”Hisvoiceholdsnovenomthough.Jasperandmymiddlebrotherarebestfriends,thekindmostofusnevergettohave.Practicallybrothers.GodknowsJasperneededsomeone.
Orafewsomeones.AndthosesomeonesturnedouttobetheEatonboys.
“Well,”Beauexclaims,clappinghishandstogether,“who’supforafieldtriptoTheSpur?IwanttodancewithSummerbeforeIleave.”
MyteethgrindasIglareatmybrother.
“You’regonnaruinyourteethdoingthat,son.”Harveyslingsahandacrossthebackofmychairandgrinsatme.It’sacreepygrin.Aknowinggrin.
“Thanks,Dad.”
“Anytime.YouknowI’mawell-springofgoodadvice.”Heleansincloserwhileeveryoneelselaunchesintotalkingaboutplansforlatertonight.Hisvoicegoeslower.“That’swhyI’mgoingtogiveyouthislittletidbitofadvice:coolyourjets.Ifyoueverhavesomethingthatnooneelsewants,yougottaaskyourselfwherethevalueis.”
Ilookoveratmydad,facesmushedtogetherinconfusion.“What?”
Hesmileswistfully,observingeveryonearoundthetable.“Itnevermatteredwhoseeyeswereonyourmom.Becausehereyeswerealwaysonme.”Hepatsmyshoulderandthenleansbackintohischair,leavingmestaringdownattheoldoaktablebeneathmyelbows.ThelinesinthewoodatestamenttoallthemealsI’vehadinthisexactspotoverthecourseofmylife.
Whilelivelyconversationrollsonaroundme,Ithinkaboutmymom.IthinkaboutSummer.
AndwhenIglanceoverather,hereyesareonme.
***
Idecidetotakemydad’sadvice.TostopbeatingmychestlikeafuckinggorillaeverytimesomeonesomuchaslooksSummer’sway.IdecidetositbackatTheSpurandsoakherup.BeauandCadegrabbedthecouchesontheraisedpartofthebar.It’sthesamespottheyalwaystake,andmagicallyit’sneverinuse.
Ithinkwe’rejustwell-likedenoughintowntowarrantaspecialspot.BeaugotherebeforeSummerandIdid,butIwouldn’tbesurprisedifsomeoneelsemovedfromthetablewhentheysawhimwalkin.
That,orCadescowledatthemandsentthemscamperingoff.
Eitherway,fromwhereI’mseated,IhaveaperfectviewofthespacetheyclearforadanceflooronHonkyTonkSundays.I’mprettysureit’sjustawaytogetpeopleoutonSundaynights—anditworks.
Oldschoolcountrymusic,linedancing,two-stepping.ChestnutSpringsisasmallenoughtown,butit’snotallcowboysandranchers.Whichiswhyitalwayscracksmeuptoseepeopleplayingcowboydress-uponSundaynights.
Eric,thefinancialadvisorfromthebank,hasahugesilverbuckleonhisbeltandiswearingafuckingbolotie.Thisguyhasn’tsetfootoutsideashinycleanbankinyears,andIknowhegrewupattendingaprivateschoolinthecity.
Lauraishere,soobviouslytryingtocatchmyeyethatIalmostfeelbadforher.Thesecond-handembarrassmentisthick.UnlikeCade,whomean-mugseverywomanwhoapproacheshimandturnshisbackonthemlikethatmightmakethemdisappear,Ihaveahardtimeturningwomenaway.
Notinaphysicalsense,becauseI’vespentmanyanightsnuggleduptoawomanatabarjustbecauseIfeelbadshuttingthemdown.Eventhoughnothingmorethanthathappened,ofcourse,allittakesisonephotoofmewiththemforittohittheinternetandspeculationtoblowup.
Thatsaid,I’veneverfeltlikeIneededtoshutthemdown.Ididn’toweanyoneanything,andIwasn’thurtinganyone.
ButwatchingSummertwo-steppingawkwardlywithBeaurightnow,laughingandstumblingoneachother’sfeet,mychesttwists.
I’mnotsurehowIfellsohard,andsofast.I’mnotsureofanything,really.Mycareer.Myhealth.ButI’mprettyfuckingsureSummerisagame-changerinmorewaysthanone.
I’malsoprettysureI’mdonebeingmatureandwatchingmybrotherdanceandenjoymygirl.Islammybeerbottleonthetableandunfoldmyselffromthecouch.Cadegivesmeaspeculativescowl,andIignorehimasIturnandstridetothedancefloor.
IcatchSummer’seyefromoverBeau’sshoulder,andshesmilesatme.Mystomachdrops.Thetipsofmyfingersitchtotouchher—andfuck—thoselips.
We’vebeenbackforhalfadayandnotkissingherisdrivingmecrazy.
Afteranentireseasonofwantingnothingmorethantobeathome,Isuddenlywanttobeontheroad,onlybecauseIgettobealonewithSummerwhenIam.
MyhandclampsdownonBeau’sshoulder.“I’mgoingtocutinnow.”
Helooksoverhisshoulderwithagrin.Aknowinggrin.Fuckingshitdisturber
Beauactslikeagoof,butthefactofthematteris,youdon’tgetthelevelofclearancehehasbybeingadoofus.Nah,he’sahellofalotsmarterthanheletson.AndsometimesIwonderifhe’sahellofalotmorefuckedupthanheletson,too.
“Surething,babybro.”HeclapsmeonthebackandholdsSummer’shandouttominebeforeturningawaywithawink.Hopefully,togokeepamiserablelookingCadecompanyandscareLauraawayfromtalkingtohimtoo.
IstepinfrontofSummer,slidingonehandaroundherwaistandlinkingmyfingerswithhersbeforegazingdownatherbrighteyesandflushedcheeks.Shelookshappy.“Havingfun?”
“Yes,”shebreathes.“Ihaven’tbeenoutdancinginforever.”Ileadherintoaneasytwo-step,havinghadalotmorepracticeatcountrybarsthanBeau.Iknowhowtoleadwithoutlookinglikeatotalbuffoon.“ItmakesmemissWilla.”
“WhoisWilla?”Ileandowncloser,wishingIcouldThanosthisplace—snapmyfingersandmakeeveryoneelsedisappear.
“Mybestfriend.You’dlikeher.”Summersnorts.“She’ssortofthefemaleversionofyou.”
“Maybethat’swhyyouhandlemesowell.”
“Handleyou?RhettEaton,Idon’tthinkanyonecantrulyhandleyou.I’mjustalongfortheride.”
“Fuckyeah,youare.”
Shehuffsoutalaugh,andIfeelherbreathagainstmyneck.Thedressshe’swearingistightandscrunchedupoverhertorso,andthensoftandflowingaroundherlegs.It’sbeggingformetoflipitupandbendherover.
“ImetWillatakingridinglessons.WhenIgotsickagainandhadtoquit,shekeptcomingtovisitmeinthehospital.Justneverstopped.Sharingpictures,videos.I’mprettysureweevenwatchedyouridetogether.”
Herheadtipsdownshylywhensheadmitsthat.
“Doessheknowaboutus?”Us.Thatwasastupidthingtosay.There’snotan“us”yet.Yet.ButIdon’tneedtoterrifySummerwhileIworkonthatyet
Butshedoesn’tseemscared.Shejustpressesherlipstogetherandlooksupintomyeyes.Thesongchangestosomethingslower,andsheautomaticallystepsintome,liningourhipsupandslidingherhandovermyshouldertowrapbotharmsaroundmyneck.
“No.Well,notreally.IbelieveafewweeksagohersuggestionwasthatIshould—howdidsheputit—rideyoulikeabuckingbronco.”
Mydicktwitches.
Ileandowntowhispersomethinginherearbutcan’tresistpressingakisstherefirst.“Iapproveofthisfriendship.”
Shegigglesandrunsherfingersupthebaseofmyscalp,throughmyhairlikeshealwaysseemstoenjoy.“Careful.PeopleherearegoingtothinktheinfamousbachelorRhettEatonistaken.”
Ichuckleandspareaglanceouttothebar.
“Peoplearedefinitelylooking,”shemurmurs.
Ipullonehandupandshuckherchinbacktowardme.“Good.Letthemlook.”
Shejustblinksatme.AndIhatethatanyonehasevermadeherfeellikesheisn’tworthbeingseenwith.Likeshe’ssomedirtysecrettohide.
“They’regoingtotalk.”
“Thenletthemtalk.YouknowIdon’tgiveafuckwhatpeoplethink,Summer.AndthereisnooneI’dratherruinmyreputationwith.”
Withonehandstillgrippingherchin,Ikissher.
Fuckthesepeople.FuckRob.Fuckhershittysister.Fuckanyonewhowouldmakethiswomanfeellikeanythinglessthansheis.
Shestiffensatfirst—shocked—butwhenherfingersgobacktomovinginmyhairandherlipsslideagainstmine,IknowIhaveherpermissiontokeepgoing.Tokeepruiningmyreputation,righthereandnow,withher.
IfIwerepayingattentiontoanythingotherthanthewomaninmyarms,I’dheartheheartsofgirlsbreakingandthesoundofmybrotherswhoopingandlaughing.
ButallIhearisthepoundingofmyheartandthesweetsighingnoiseSummermakeswhenmytonguedanceswithhers.
Westandhere.Inplainview.Kissing.Inthemiddleofamakeshiftdancefloor.Nodoubtraisingsomeeyebrows.Makingastatement.
Doingwhatwewantratherthanwhatweshould.26Rhett
Summer:Wannagoforamidnightdrive?
Rhett:Nowwho’stheanimal?
Summer:Stillyou.I’mtheprincess.
Rhett:Fuckin’rightyouare.*My*princess.
Summer:Okay,Neanderthal.Meetoutside?Bringacondom.
Summer:Actually,afewcondoms.
Rhett:Ijustboughtawholebox.YoushouldhaveseenthelookIgotfromthecashier.
Summer:Great.We’llprobablybeinthetownnewspapertomorrow.
Rhett:Whataheadlinethatwouldbe.
Summer:Gross.Arewegoingoutorwhat?
Rhett:Wearoneofthoseprissyskirts,butnopanties.Meetattherustbucket.
***
“Whatisthis?”SummerplacesagiftbaginthemiddleofthetablewhereI’msitting,enjoyingacoffeebymyself.I’mfeelingalittlewrungoutaftersayinggoodbyetoBeauthismorning.HeandmydadhittheroadtogethertodrivebacktoOttawa,andwhileSummer’sbeenatthegym,I’vespentthelasthourwonderingifhowIfeelaboutsayinggoodbyetomybrotherishowtheyallfeeleverytimeIleaveforanevent.
“It’sabag,Summer.”
IwonderhowSummerfeelswhenshewatchesmegetontothebackofanangrybull.Idon’tknowwhy,butI’veneverspentalotoftimeconsideringhowmyjobmightmakeeveryoneelsefeel.I’vebeentoobusynotcaringaboutwhatanyonethinks.
Andtryingnottoterrifymyselfwiththerealitiesofthissport.
Shejutsoutherhipandquirksherhead,causingherthickponytailtoflopdownherslenderneck.Theflyawaysoverherforeheadsticktoherdampskinafterherworkout.“Noshit,Eaton.”
“Where’ditcomefrom?”
Igiveheralopsidedsmirk.“Me.”
Sherollsherlipstogether,appraisingme.“Whatisit?”
We’vespentthelastfewdaysstealingkissesinthehallway.Ordrivingmyoldtruckoutintothefieldtosinkintoeachotherundertheopensky.It’sromanticasfuck.It’salsothebestsexI’veeverhad.
WhileI’vemostlyconvincedSummertobucktherules,she’sarealsticklerfor“notbanginginyourdad’shouse”andisstillconvincedsheneedstohidewhatwe’redoingforsomestupidreason—eventhougheveryoneknowswhatwe’redoing.
I’veneverbeenmoremotivatedtogetmyownplacesoIcanbendheroverwheneverIplease.
“Idon’tknowhowyoufancytypesdogifts,but‘roundhereyoufindoutwhatthegiftiswhenyouopenit.”
Hermouthturnsdownatthecorners.“Idon’thaveanythingtogiveyou.”
Ilaugh.That’ssuchaSummerthingtosay,alwaysworryingabouteveryoneelse.
“Idon’twantanything,Princess.It’sagift,justbecause.Nowsitthatfineassdownandopenit.”
Herheadbobsfromsidetosideasshepullsthechairout.“Well,Idolovepresents,”shemurmurs,eyeslightingasshepullsatthetissuepaperIshovedintherekindofhaphazardly.
Whenshereachesintothebag,shestills,eyesdartingovertome.Inaflash,she’stuggingeverythingout.
Withthechapsfreeofthebag,shemakesthissatisfiedlittlesighingsound.“Rhett.”
Isipatmycoffeeandenjoywatchingher,everylittledropofexcitementthatplaysacrossherface.I’venevergottenoffongivingsomeoneagiftquitelikeI’menjoyingthisrightnow.
“Doyoulikethem?”
“DoIlikethem?Areyoukiddingme?Ilovethem.Butthesearefromthefirstrodeowewentto?”
Ishrug.
“Didyouorderthemorsomething?”
“Nope.”
“Youboughtthemwhilewewerethere?”
“Yup.”
Hermouthopensandclosesassheholdsthemupagain.Theyreallyarebeautiful.Thecraftsmanshipistopoftheline.Sowasthepricetag.Whenshesurgedaheadofme,IpurchasedthemasfastasIcould.
Butit’snotacompletelyunselfishgift.I’mdyingtoseeherinthem.
“Why?”
“Whereelsewouldyoufindanicepairofchild-sizedchaps?”
Sherollshereyes.
“IgotthembecauseIsawyoustaringatthem.Isawthelookonyourface.Andthenyoutoldmeyouhadtoquitridingwhenyougotsick.Ithoughtyou’dwanttostartagainatsomepoint.Maybeouthere.Withme.ThenIsawyouonmyhorse—afuckingnatural—andIknewI’dmadetherightcall.”
Sheblinksatme,eyesshinierthantheyweresecondsago.Hersmileiswateryasshestaresdownandrunsherdaintyfingersoverthepolishedsilverstuds.“Ithoughtyouhatedmethen.”
Ishakemyhead,alittlesheepishoverwhatagrowlyprickI’dbeentoher.“TheonlythingIhatedwashowbadlyIwantedyou,Princess.”
“Thankyou.”Shesaysitsoearnestly,ittugsonstringsIdidn’tknowexist.Thosebigbrownsoulfuleyes—fuck—I’ddoanythingshewantsmeto.I’manabsolutegonerforthisgirl,andIneverevensawhercoming.
“You’rewelcome.”Myvoiceisgruff,andIknowIneedtotellherwhatthisistoo.TotellherthingsI’vebeenthinkingabout.Likethatoncetheseasonisover,onceI’mnotaclienttoher,I’mgoingtocommitmyentireoff-seasontoconvincinghertogivemeashot.Arealshot.
Ashottobeeverything.
ButIchickenout,notsureIcanhandlearejection,oranotherpersonleavingme.Especiallynotonewho’srapidlybecomeasimportanttomeasSummeris.Soinstead,Ijustsay,“Putthemon,thenyoucanthankmeonyourknees.”
***
SummergrumblesasIleadherupthestairs,herhandwrappedinminesodamnperfectly.Hergrumblesarehalf-heartedanddonewithasmallsmile.SomethingaboutifthepressfoundoutI’masexaddict,they’dhaveafieldday.
Whenwegettomyroom,Ishutthedoorandgiveheralittlepushintothesprawlingspace.Woodbeamceilingsboastanantlerchandelierhangingoverafour-posterpinebed.Bigslidingdoorsopenontoaspacioussecond-floorpatio,whichholdsasmallwroughtironbistrosetlookingoutovertherange,pointedrightattheRockyMountains.
“Wow,”shebreathes,struckbytheview.Shestopsandstares.“Whythehelldoyouhaveyourcoffeedownstairswithaviewlikethat?”
Iwatchherassheadmiresthescenery—theslendercolumnofherneck,thesharpangleofherjaw,daintyearadornedwithanunderstatedgoldstud.Summerisallclass.Allshinyandproperandwell-educated.
It’sfuckinghot.Italsomakesmewanttodirtyherupabit.
“Theviewdownstairshasbeenbetterlately.”
Sheshootsmeaplayfullook,pursingherlipsandshakingherhead.
“Showmethechaps.”Itakeastepbackandpointatthecustomleatherinherhand.
Summerturnstofaceme.“I’mwearingworkoutclothes.Theseneedjeans.”Sheholdsthemupinmydirection.
“Theyneednothing.Losetheclothes.Letmesee.”Ijutmychininherdirection.
Herdarkeyesflare.“Youwantmetoputthemonwithnothingunderthem?”
“Fuckyeah,Ido.”
Hercheeksturnpinkrightbeforemyeyes.“Ihaven’thadashower.I’mallsweaty.”
“Don’tmuchcare,Princess.”Icrossmyarmsovermychest.“Fullyintendtogetyouallsweatyrightnowanyway.”
Hercheekstwitchassheglancesawaymomentarily.Shybut…eager.
Shedropsthechapsonthewoodenfloorwithaheavythud,rollingherlipstogether.Thepinkstainontheapplesofhercheeksdeepenstomatchtherosecolorofherlips.
Sheundresses,andIwatchherlikeatotalvoyeur.She’sliterallyjustundressingandnoteventryingtobesexy.It’sjustthatit’sher,andeverythingshedoesissexytome.
Workouttanktopandbra,gone.Perkygoldentitspopoutwithaplayfulbounce.Asprinklingoffrecklesdustthetopsofthem,andI’dliketotraceeveryone.Writemineoneachofhertits.
Shepeelsoffthetight-as-fuckleggings,bendingovertoclearheranklesandtoes,andtossesthemtowardthepileofgymclothesbesideherbeforestraighteningandlookingatme.Allcurves,softlines,andtonedmuscle.
“Likethis?”shebreathesout,puffylipsparted,eyesalittlehooded.
“Nopanties?Yeah.Iagreewithyouabouttheviewuphere.Farsuperior.”
Shegivesmeashysmileinreturn,andIstrideforward,needingtobeclosetoher.Needingcontact.IslidemyhandsoverherhipsandtheglobesofherroundassasIdroptomykneesinfrontofher.“You’retoofuckingmuch.Toopretty.Toogood.”
“No,youare.”Herhandcupsmycheek,fingernailsraspingovermystubble.“IthinkI’vewastedenoughtimewithmenwhoaren’tgoodenoughtoknowthatyouarebetterthangood.Morethanenough.”
Iclosemyeyesandsoakthatupforamoment.HearingthatI’menoughforsomeonelikeSummer.Ididn’tknowhowbadlyIneededtohearthat.
AllIcandoisshakemyhead,pressakisstoherstomach,andreachforthechapsbesideher.Ihitchthemaroundherwaist,feedingthesoftleatherstrapthroughthebuckle,watchingthesilverdetailingglintbeneathherhipbones.
Wrappingoneloosepieceofleatheraroundherleg,Istartthezipperatthetopandpullitdown,carefulnottocatchanybareskinasIgo.WhenImovetotheoppositeside,Inoticealighttremorinmyhandandshakemyheadagain.
SummerthreadsherfingersinmyhairasIpullthezipperallthewaydown.Ileanforwardandgivetheslitofherpussyonelong,firmlick.BecauseIcan’tbethisclosetoitandnotpayitsomeattention.
Herfingerstighteninmyhair,andshepullsmecloser.MychestrumblesasIgiveherclitagoodhardpullwithmymouth.
“Foragirlwho’sneverhadherpussyeaten,you’vesuredevelopedataste.”
Shetenses,pushingmyheadback.“Isittoomuch?”Hereyesarewideasshelooksdownatmeandwhispers,“Ohshit,I’msorry.”
Grabbingatmyshoulders,shetriestopullmeup,butIshovetwofingersinsideheralreadyslick,warmhole.Soreadyforme.“Summer,stop.It’snevertoomuch.I’mtheonewho’sdevelopedataste.”
Ileanforwardagain,onmykneesforthisgirl,andgiveheranotherlong,firmlick.“Thereisnevertoomuchofthis.I’lleatthisprettypussyallday,everyday,ifitmeansIgettowatchyousquirmaroundandbegformycock.Ilovedoingthisforyou.”
MyfingerspumpintoherlanguidlyasIsuckhardatherclit,knowingIcangethercloseandthenpullawaytowatchhergetallflusteredandhuffy.Desperate.
Ilovethattoo.
Whensheleansonme,Ipullawayandstand,grippingherskulltoplantafirmkissonhermouth.“Youseehowfuckinggoodyoutaste?”Islidemytongueintohermouth,swallowingthedirtymoaningsoundshemakesatthebackofherthroat.
That’swhereIplantogonext.
Istepawaytogetabetterview.Sexy,fancyleatherchaps,titsheaving,eyesalittleglassy.
Fuck.
Yeah,Ilovethis.
“Spin.”Itwirlmyfingerandwatchherswallowheavily.“Letmeseeyou.”
Herlipsrolltogether,andhernipplespuckereventighteratmycommand.Icanseethewetnessglisteningonherbarecunt.IfIlooktoolong,though,I’lljusttossherdownandgototown.
Sheslowlyturns,andI’mstruckbyatightnessinmychest.AndwhenIwatchthecreasesbeneaththatperfectpeach-shapedassasshespins,apainfultightnessinmyjeanstoo.Bareasssurroundedbysoftleather.Yeah,mypervertedmindisracing.
Facingmeagain,shehitsmewithaquirkofherlips.“HowdoIlook?”
“Perfect.”Myvoiceisgravel.
“Yeah?”Herheadtilts.
Icurlafingerather,urginghertocomecloser.Herbarefeetpadtowardme,andIreachforherchin,tippingherfreshfaceuptomine,heartstutteringinmychest.“Suchaprettyfuckingprincess,”Imuse,lettingagrintouchmylips.“Anddoyouknowwhereprettyprincessesbelong,Summer?”
“Where?”Hervoiceissoft,butthick.
Ipointtothehardwoodfloorbelowme.“Ontheirknees.”
Hereyeswiden,butherlipsrolltogethertohideahungrysmile.MygirllikesitwhenItalktoherlikethis.
“Losetheshirt,Rhett,”isheronlyresponse.
Igrabthebackofmynecklinewithonehandandtughard,rippingitoffandtossingitaway.Herpalmstraceovermychest,gentleonmyshoulders—stillsocarefulwithme.Shesmileswhenherfingerstightenonthebulgeofmybicep.
Itmakesmydicktwitch.Andthenherhandsareslidingdownmytorsoasshelowersherselftothegroundatmyfeet.Andsuddenly,she’srushing,handsfumblingwithmyflylikeshecan’tgettomycockfastenough.Likeshe’sstarving.Theviewfromaboveisfantastic.Darkshinyhairandperky,pointednipples
Mycockspringsupbetweenuswhenshetugsmyboxersdown,andshewastesnotimewrappingherhandsaroundmygirth,lickingaflattongueovertheheadwhiletippingherwideeyesupatme.
“Keeplookingatmelikethat,andI’mgoingtoblowonyourface,Summer.”
Shegigglesanddoesitagain.“Good.Doit.”
Igrowl,adeep,feralsound.
Butshedoesn’tgivemeachance.Sheopenswideandtakesmetothebackofherthroat,hummingasshegoes.
MyheadfallsbackandIclosemyeyes.“Fuck,Summer.”
Shesucksmeslow,butfirm,handsworkingthebase,headbobbingeagerly.
WhenIfinallygetmyacttogetherandchancealookdownather,Ifindherstaringupatmewithanalmostworshipfulexpressiononherface.
Islideahandoverthelineofherjaw.“Youlovethis,don’tyou?”
Shehumsandnods,headtiltingintomyhandalittle.
Myoppositehandwrapsinherthickponytail.“Touchyourself.”
Sheblinksbutremovesonehand,slidingitdownbetweenherlegs,eyeshoodingwhenshegetsthere.
“That’sit.”Ithrustintohermouthslowly,lettingherfocusonherself,watchingherslideonefingerinandpullitbackouttoswirlatherclit,lidsflutteringasshedoes.
Whenhereyescloseandshemoans,Ialmostexplodeonthespot.Isqueezeherponytailtighter,holdingherheadstill,andincreasethespeedofmythrustsintohermouth.
“Whatagoodfuckinggirlyouare.FuckingyourfingerswhileIfuckyourthroat.”
Hereyesflipuptomineinstantly,goingwiderightasherchestandneckgopink.Shelookslikealittlerodeodolldowninfrontofme.Shecriesoutaroundmycock,bodyshakingasshecomesapartbeneathme.
AndI’mtheluckysonofabitchthatgetstowatch.It’stoomuch.Ican’twaitanylonger.Myhandsareunderherarms,andI’mpickingherup,kickingoffmypants,bendingherover,pushingherfacefirstontomybed.
Shecrawlsupontoallfours,baringherselftome,whimperingdesperately.“Rhett,please.”
Isqueezemycockhardinmyfist,eyesgluedtoherpussyclenchingandreleasingwiththeaftershocksofherorgasm.
“Fuck.Summer.Hangon.Ineedacondom.”
“No,”shewhines.“Iwantit.Iwantyou.Justyou.”Sheglancesatmeoverhershoulder,eyeswildandsparkly.Idon’tthinkshemeansto,butherbackarches,whichpushesherassouttowardme.
“I’venevernotusedacondom,”Isay,lickingmylips.
“IhaveanIUD.I’mclean.”
Myhandsareonherass,rubbing.Spreading.Backtoshakingjustabit.Mycockthrobslikeitneverhasbefore,andmybedputsherattheperfectheighttoslideinto.
“Areyousure,Summer?”Iask,slippingtwofingersintoherdrippingpussy
“Yes.Yes,yes,yes,”shechants,rockingherhipsbacktowardme.
Igroanandnotchthethickheadofmycockagainsther.
“More.”Herslenderfingersgripthesheets.Shedoesn’tmove,butshe’sbeggingmeto.
Iwrapmyhandsaroundherhipsandpushintoherslowly,carefully.Shealwaysfeelssosmall,andlookingdown,watchingthewayherbodystretchestotakeme,justdrivesthatfacthome.
“Fuck,”shebreathesout.“Thatfeels…”
“Incredible,”Ifinish,savoringthefeelofbeingbareinsideherasIseatmyselftothehilt.Skinonskin.Memorizingeverypulse,everytwitchandflutter.It’sother-fucking-worldly.
“Again.”
“Princess,Ineedasecond.Youshouldseehowyoulookfromhere.”
“Tellme.”Shewigglesagainstme,peekingoverhershoulderagain.Flushedcheeks,wispsofhaironhertemples.Ahungrygleaminhereye.Ifeelherpussyclampdownonmycockwhenshesays,“TellmehowIlook.”
Igrowl,slidingonehandupherback,pressingherdownontothebedwhiletheotherhandgrabsthebackstrapofherchapsandhikesherassup,positioningherhowIwanther.
Ipulloutandthrustbackin.“Youlookperfect.”
“More.”
Ipumpinandoutofher,lettingonehandtraildownherspine.“Ilovethisindentdownyourback.Andthisass.”Isqueezehard,grippingitandlettinggo,watchingthewhitefingerprintsturnpinkandsmilingwhenshewigglesitatmeagain.Igiveheronefirmslapandhearthebreathwhooshoutofherlungs
Ireachbetweenusandrubafingeragainstherpussywhereithugsmycock.AshiverracesdownherspineasIdo.“Youlooklikeyouwereborntotakemycock.”
Shemoans.“Jesus,Iloveitwhenyousayshitlikethat.”
Ismilevictoriouslyandslamintoher,watchingherbodyshakewiththeforceofmythrust.“Princess,youlooklikeyouweremadeforme.”
Hervoiceishushedwhensheresponds.ButIcatchitallthesame.
“IfeellikeIwasmadeforyou.”
That’sallittakesformetounleash.Igriptheleatherstraparoundherwaistwithonehand,herasswithmyother,andfuckherlikeshewasmadeforme
Shedoesn’tcrumble.Shemeetseverystroke,archingherbackandpushinginformore.Lettingmetakeherfarther,deeper,thanIeverhave.
Perspirationtricklesdownmytemple,andhermoansturnintoscreams.“You’regoingtotakeit,Summer.Takeeveryfuckinginch.Andyou’regoingtoscreammynamewhenyoucome.”
Likeitwasacommand,Ifeelherbodyshakeandbuckbeneathme.
AndwhenshescreamsmynameasIspillmyselfinsideher,surgeaftersurge,I’mhitwitharealizationthatsendsmereeling.
Summerwasn’tjustmadeforme.
She’sitforme.27Summer
Summer:Yougoingtocometotherodeowithmethisweekend?
Dad:Wouldn’tmissit.Beersareonme.Maybesomeofthosecinnamonminidonutstoo
Summer:Soundshealthy.
Dad:Ifthisweremylastmomentonearth,I’dwanttogowithabeerinonehandandaminidonutintheother.
Summer:Ihateyou.
Dad:Iloveyoutoo.
***
Westepintothetrendydowntownrestaurant—allwhitesandsilversandmodernlines—andRhettlooksoutofplacehere.Frankly,Ifeeloutofplacehere,likesomethinginsideofmehaschangedinthelastcouplemonths.
BeforemytimeinChestnutSprings,thiswasthetypeofplaceIwouldhavelovedtocomefordinner.Butspendinglongdaysintheprairies,seeingthemountains,beingsurroundedbypeoplewhovaluedifferentthings,well,I’mthinkingthey’verubbedoffonme.Thatmaybemyprioritieshavechanged.
Rhett’shandbumpsagainstmineashepeersaroundtherestaurant.He’sreachedbackformewithoutevenlooking,possiblywithouteventhinkingaboutit.
Thegirlwholikesplaceslikethesepopsupinmyhead,tellingmeIshouldn’tholdhishandinpublic.Thatit’snotappropriate.ThatI’llgetoneofusintrouble.
Butthenewgirl—thewindswept,sun-kissedgirlwithbeautifulcustomchapswhomakesloveinthebackofarustyoldpickupinthemiddleofafield—doesn’tgiveafuck.
ShetellsmetoslipmysofthandintoRhett’sroughoneandgiveitasqueeze.
Whenhischeektwitches,IknowIlistenedtotherightgirl.
Thatsmileismykryptonite.Andthosehands.Andthatmouth,includingthetoe-curlingthingsthatcomeoutofit.Thedick,too.BigfanofRhettEaton’sdick.
Actually,itwouldseemI’mjustabigfanofRhettEaton,andnotthecockycowboyeveryoneelsegetstosee.Themanwhokissesmesweetly,whomakesmefeeltakencareof,likeI’mnotaburden—theonewho’sjustalittlebitvulnerableandinsecure.
Themanthatnooneelsereallysees.I’mnotsurewhyhe’soptedtoshowmethatsideofhimself,butIknowIneedtohandleitwithcare.IknowRhettisfarmoresensitivethanheletson.Hiswoundsrundeep,andhe’spatchedthemwithapublicpersonaandacockygrinthatdoesn’tmatchthesoulfulmanI’vecometoknow.
“Thereheis.”Hisoppositehandraisesupinasalute,andheholdsmyhandtightashestridesacrosstheroomtowardthetablewhereJasperisalreadyseated.
Hilariously,Jasperdoesn’tlooklikehebelongshereeither.Hisscruffybeardcoversmostofhisface,andhisshaggydarkblondhairpeeksoutfromundertheteamcaphe’swearing.
“Hey,guys.”Jasper’seyesdroptoourintertwinedhandsandhislipspresstogether.“Rhett,don’tthinkI’veeverseenyouholdagirl’shandbefore,”hecontinuesaswepulloutourchairsacrossfromhim.
Iflushandpullmyhandaway,buttheminutewe’reseatedintheclearLucitechairs,Rhettreachesacrossthespacebetweenusandgrabsitagain,thumbrubbinginreassuringstrokes.
“Didn’tknowgrowingaplayoffbeardwasathingwhenyouaren’tevenclosetomakingtheplayoffs,”Rhettdeadpans.
Jaspersmirksanddipshischindowntoreadthemenuinfrontofhim.“Vicious,littleEaton.”Hepopshisheadupjustlongenoughtoadd,“Lovelytoseeyou,Summer.”
There’ssomethingdifferentaboutJasper.Somethingquietandintrospective.Somethingsweet,butalsosomethingveryremoved.Ican’tquiteputmyfingeronhim.TheonlythingIknowisthatI’veheardmydadtalkaboutgoaliesbeingadifferenttypeofathletethanyouraveragehockeyplayer.
“Youtoo,”Itellhimhonestly.
“Thanksformeetingustoday,”Rhettsays.“Idon’tlovedinnersoutbeforeIride.”
Jaspergrunts.“Yeah.Ihearthat.Playingonafullstomachmakesmewanttohurl.”
Mymouthtwists.I’minforaninterestingeveningoftryingtomakeconversationwithJasper.AtleastitwilldistractmefromthegnawinganxietyoverRhettridingagainthisweekend.
Myphoneringsloudlyinmypurse,muchtooloudinthequietrestaurant.
“Shit.Sorryguys.”Iriflethroughmyoversizedpurse,desperatelyhopingtofinditandshutitup,silentlychastisingmyselffordumpingeverythinginhereincludingreceiptsI’llneverneed.
MyhandclosesonthevibratingblockandIpullitoutrightastheservercomestofillourtall,slenderwaterglasses.
ThenameDoctorDoucheflashesacrossmyscreenasIsilencetheringer.MyeyesshootuptoRhett,whoisstaringatthephoneinmyhandlookingequalpartsamusedandmurderous.
“Whendidyoudothat?”Iwhisper.
“Youleftyourphoneunlockedoneday,”hemutters,peeringjustovermyshoulder,lookinglikeascoldedlittleboywhoisn’tsorryatall.
Mymouthdropsopen,andItrytokeepfromlaughing.“Reallymature,”IreplyasIclickthephoneoffandtossitbackinmypursewhileshootingJasperanapologeticglance.“Sorryaboutthat.So,tellme,haveyoueverbeentooneofRhett’sevents?”
“Notinalongtime.Ourseasonsoverlapandmyscheduleisusuallypackedwith—”
Myphoneblaresagain,andIgrimace,cringinginternallyasIyankmyphoneoutagain.Idon’tbotherglancingatRhettbecauseIcantellbythesetofhisbodynexttominethathe’sreadytobreaksomething.
Wehaven’ttalkedmuchaboutwhatweareorwherewe’regoing.IwantsobadlytonotbeneedyorclingythatI’vebeentooafraidtoask.Hehasn’ttoldmeanything,buthisbodysaysitall.
HisbodysaysI’mhis.
WhenIpulloutmyphonethistime,mysister’snameflashesacrossthescreen,whichhasmybrowfurrowing.Sherarelycallsme.
IshootaconcernedlookatRhett,whoseexpressiontellsmehe’sequallyconfused.
“Sorry,I’mjustgoingtotakethis,”Iannouncetothetwomenwhorespondwithmurmurstellingmetogoahead.
Islipmythumbacrossthescreenandliftthephonetomyear.“Winter?”
“Summer,whereareyourightnow?”Hervoiceisarctic,likeusual,butthere’salsoathreadofsomethingelseinthere.
“I’moutfordinner.”
“Inthecityoraway?”
She’snevertakenaninterestinwhereIam.
“I’minthecity.Winter,what’swrong?”
Rhettpeersatme,concernetchedonhisface.
“Ourdadhadaheartattack.”
Mystomachplummets.“What?”
“It’sverymild.”Shesniffs,andIcanjustimagineherinspectinghernailsrightnow,likeI’msomesortofsimpletonbecauseIdidn’tbecomeadoctor.“He’sgoingtobeokay.Buthe’shereatthehospitalifyou’dliketoseehim.”
Myheartthundersagainstmyribcage.“Ofcourse,Iwanttoseehim!”ThewordscomeoutmoreforcefullythanIintendaspanicseepsintomyveins.“Whendidthishappen?”I’malreadystanding,shovingmyarmsintomycoat.
Theguysarestandingtoo,readytofollow,eventhoughtheydon’tknowwhat’sgoingon.AtwingepopsupinmychestatknowingIhavepeoplewhosupportme.Itfeelsunusual,anddespitetheanxietybubblinginsideofme,theirsilentsupportsoothesme.
“Afewhoursago,”Winterreplies.
“Winter.Areyoufuckingkiddingme?Dadhadaheartattackafewhoursago,andyou’rejusttellingmenow?”
“Don’tbedramatic,Summer.It’snotlikethere’sanythingyoucouldhavedoneforhimwithalawdegree,”shescoffs,andtearsstingmyeyes.
“Icouldhavebeentherewithhim!He’smydadtoo,Winter.”
ShesighslikeI’mthemostinconvenientpersonintheworldtoher.AndIguessit’spossiblethatIam.Shedidn’taskforthisfuckedupfamilytie.ButneitherdidI,andI’mtiredofbeingtreatedlikeIdid.
“Well,he’sherenow.Andhe’sfine.Stayingacoupleofdaysforobservation.You’rewelcometovisit.”Shehangsuponme.
Rhettistalkingtome,butallIseeiswhite.Whitehotrage.RagethatIcouldhavemissedlastmomentswiththeonlypersonwho’severreallycaredaboutme.RagethatWinterandmystepmothercontinuetotreatmethiswayasanadult.
Rhettmassagesthebackofmyneck.“Let’sgo,Summer.I’lldriveyou.”
“I’msorry,Jasper,”Isaywoodenly,tryingtocontaintheangerbubblingbeneaththesurface.
Hewavesahandatme.“Nothingtobesorryfor.Go.Sayhitothatnutforme.”
InodbeforeRhettushersmeoutthedoor,straighttomyvehicle,whereheopensthepassengerdoorandputsmeinlikeI’minsomesortofcoma.Hismotionsarequickandefficient,fullofworry—fullofsomuchcare.
Heleansinandkissesmyhairbeforeslammingthedoorandboundingaroundtothedriver’sside.Afterheadjuststheseatandmirrors,heslingshishandoverthebackofmyseattoreversemycarandsays,“I’magainsthittingwomenmyself,butIfullysupportyoudeckingyoursister.”
Adarklaughescapesme,andthen,hehitsthegas.
***
Weflyintothecardiologywing.Irecognizethemint-coloredwallssowell.
“Whereishe?”Myeyesnarrowatmysister.Shelookslikeaporcelaindoll—paleblondehairandperfectskin—nexttomewithallmyfreckles.
“He’sspeakingwiththecardiologist.So,containyourtantrum.”Sheflicksherhandupandinspectshernails.Thisisawaysheinsultsme.ActinglikehercuticlesaremoreinterestingthanIam.
MyvoiceshakeswhenIsay,“Ican’tbelieveyoudidn’ttellme.”Shesighsandglancesoveratthecloseddoortoourdad’sroom.“Winter,whatifithadbeenmoreserious?WhatifI’dmissedmychancetobewithhim?Allbecause…what?”MyvoicecracksandRhettstepsclosebehindme,hisbodyfirmandhishandsteadyatthesmallofmyback.
Hereyesdroptowherehe’stouchingme,butshejustblinks.
“Becauseyou’recarryingsomevendettaagainstmeforhowIwasconceived?”Icontinue.“YouknowIwasn’tthereforthat,right?Didn’texactlyhaveachoiceinthematter.Didtheycoverthatinmedicalschool?Becausethatmaninthatroom”—Ipointatthecloseddoor—“he’sallI’vegot.YouandMarinahavemadesureofthat.I’mnotreallycertainwhatmoreyouwantfromme.”
Everythingisspillingoutofme,likethisopenedthedam,andIcan’tstopthewaterfromgushingout.It’sembarrassing.
It’scathartic.
OritwouldbeifWinterdidanythingotherthanstareatmeblankly.She’ssorobotic,andIalmostfeelbadforher.Almost.
Shebrightenswithafakesmileandmovesherfocusovermyshoulder.“Oh,good.Rob,you’rehere.”
Rhettstiffensbehindme,andIfreeze,refusingtoturnaround.Inthismoment,IrealizethatI’vefuckedup.EverythingwithRhettmovedtooquickly,abluroforgasmsandlingeringlooks.Iforgotabouttheworldaroundus.
Theworldaroundme.AndthisisdefinitelysomethingIshouldhavetoldRhettbeforewalkingintothehospitalwithhimtoday.
WhenRobValentinestridesintoview,coiffedhairandcollaredshirtundersomepreppysweater,Iwonderwhatattractedmetohimatall.NexttoRhett,he’sjustso…underwhelming.
“Whatthefuckishedoinghere?”Rhettgrowls.
Winter’seyeswidenandsherearsback.“Heismyhusband.Thequestionis,whatareyoudoinghere?”
“Hi,sweetheart.”RobpecksWinteronthecheek,obviouslyunaffectedbyherrudecomment.
NowRhettissteppingup,pushinganarminfrontofmeandguidingmebehindhim,usinghisbodyasashieldforme.
“Isthissomesortofsickjoke?”FrombehindRhett’shulkingframe,IseehimturnhisgazeonRob,soslowlythatit’salmosteerie.Apredatorsizinguphisprey.
Isqueezeathisarm.“Canwepleasewalkawaynow?Ineedtospeaktoyouinprivate.”MyheartispoundingsohardthatIcanfeelmychestvibrating.I’malwaysawareofmyheartnow.Thechangeinrhythm,inintensity—I’llnevernotthinkaboutit.
Andrightnow,it’spumpingharderthanIthinkiteverhas.Becausemydeepest,darkestsecretisdangerouslyclosetoseeingthelightofday.
“Nojokeshere,fella.”ThewayRobsaysitisalmostlikehe’dtalktoadog.AndRhettdoesn’tmisstheinsult.Hestrikesstraightout.
“Preyingonyourteenagedpatientwasn’tbadenough?Youhadtoturnaroundandmarryheroldersister?”
Mystomachlurchesintomythroat.Fearimmobilizesme,freezingmeinplace.
Everythingfeelslikeit’smovinginslowmotion.I’mgrabbingatRhett,feelinghimmovingforward.Kip’shospitalroomdoorisopening.
“Rhett,stop!”Hedoesn’thearme.I’mpanickingnow.Thisisn’thowanyofthiswaseversupposedtocomeout.“Rhett.”Ishakehisarm.“Pleasestop.”
“What?”Winter’sskinisaboutthecolorofherhair.Herfaceispaleanddrawn.
“Ignorethehillbilly,Winter.Thisishowpeoplelikehimhavefun.Let’sgo.”Hetriestopullhisunmovingwifealongwithhim.
Robissosmug,sosureofhimself,thathedoesn’tevenseeitcoming.MenlikeRhettaren’tafactorinhisreality.Politeandrestrainedbysocialcorrectnesswhensomeonetheycareabouthasbeenhurt.It’sallinstinctandfeeling.
Rhett’snohillbilly,he’smorelikealion.AndRobisfuckingwithhispride.
It’swhyhedoesn’thearmebegginghimtostop.
Rhettpusheshisshouldersback.“Well,I’msuregladthatpeoplelikemedon’tgettheirkicksbybreakingprofessionalcodesandspendingyearscoercingyoungwomenintobeingadirtylittlesecrettosavetheirownfuckeduphide.Peoplelikemesaywhatwemean.”Withadarksmile,heraisesafingerandpointsrightatRob’sface.“Andyou,fella,aretheshitstucktomyboot.”
Mysister’smouthisslack.Icanseethoughtsrushingthroughhereyes.Everyoneiswatching.Theirgazesitchonmyskin,andIwishIcouldturnandrun.TakeRhettwithmeandhide.
ButIcan’t.BecauseRobmakesthestupidestdecisionhecouldmakeinthismoment.
Heroundsonme,eyesnarrowedviciously,hisvoicepurevenom.“Youweresupposedtokeepyourmouthshut.”
It’sashittythingtosaytome,butIdon’tcaremuchaboutRob.It’smysisterIcan’tpeelmyeyesfrom.Shedoesn’tdeservethis.
Rhett’sarmshootsoutinfrontofmeagain,andwhenhisvoicecomesout,Ihardlyrecognizeit.It’ssocoldthatachillrunsdownmyspine.“TalktoherlikethatagainandI’llfuckingburyyou.Andtrustme,youwon’tbemissed.”
Robwavesadismissivehandathim.“Downboy.”
That’sthewrongthingtosay,becausebeforeIhaveachancetobegRhetttobackdown,he’spulledhisarmbackandisdeliveringablowtoRob’sshittysmugface.
“Rhett!”IshoutrightasbloodspurtsfromRob’snose,andthehospitalaroundusbuzzestolife.Nursesrushin,Robbellowssomethingaboutsuing,andWinterstaresatherhusbandlikeshe’sneverseenhimbefore.Ifeelthecrackinmychestforher.Shelooksyoung.Shelookslost.
IwishIcouldhugher.
Asstrainedasourrelationshipis,she’sstillmybigsister.AndI’llneverstopwishingformorewithher.
MyhandscovermymouthasItakeinthescenebeforeme,andwhenIturntotheright,Iseemydad’sopendoor,himsittinginhisbedwithpaleskinandagrimexpressiononhisface.
IpressatmytemplesasIlookupintoRhett’swarmeyes.
“I’msorry,”hesaysasifhe’sjustrealizingthesurroundingmayhem.“Fuck.I’msosorry,Summer.Ijust…fuck.Noonetalkstoyoulikethat.Noone.Notever.”
Withafatwadofgauzepressedtohisnose,Robbuttsin.“I’mgoingtotakeyouforallyou’reworth.”
Iturn,holdingahandup,mypatiencefried.“Rob,fuckoff.Gogetyournosefixedandkeepitwhereitbelongs.Whichisnotinmybusiness.YougoafterRhett,andI’llstarttalking.Sojustshutup,okay?”
Heshakeshisheadatme,likehecan’tbelievethepolite,pliantgirlhe’sbeenstringingalongforyearsjustsaidthattohim.Andit’sWinterwhopullshimaway.It’sWinterwhowon’tmeetmyeyes.
Iturnmybackonhim,facingRhett.“Youneedtoleave.”
“What?”Helooksgenuinelyconfused.
“Seriously,Rhett?”Iwhisper-shout.“Thisisafuckingmess.Mydadisinthehospital,andyoujustdroppedmybiggest,mostcomplicatedsecretinavery,veryspectacularfashion.Youneedtoleave.I’lltalktoyoulater.Idon’tneedyouheredoingthewholepossessivethingrightnow.”
Rhettblinks,abitofcoloremergingunderhisstubble.Afteradeepsigh,hefinallysays,“Okay,fine.”Hestepsinclose,tippingmychinup,thumbtakingoneswipejustbeneathmylowerlip.“ButIwanttomakeonethingclear.Iamnotpossessive.Iamprotective.AndI’llneverstopprotectingyou.I’dhitthatfuckeragaininaheartbeatifitmeantkeepinghimfromtalkingtoyouthatway.”
Inod,alittleoverwhelmedbywhathe’sjustsaid,buttoofrazzledtodoanythingmore.“Okay,”isallIrespondwith.
I’mtooflusteredtoworkoutmythoughtsandfeelingsinthismoment,andIfearwhatI’llfindthere.AllIknowisthatIneedtogobewithmydadandclearmyhead.
Rhettleansinandpressesakisstomyforehead,thestubbleraspingagainstmyskinmakingmyhairstandonend.Hespinsonhisheelandstridesoutthroughtheswingingdoors.Alltheeyesintheroomfollowhim.
Mineincluded.28Summer
Rhett:Iamsofuckingsorry.
***
“IfIhadn’talreadyhadaheartattacktoday,thatmighthavegivenmeone.”
Itipmyheadbackagainstthebackoftheuncomfortablearmchairangledinthecornerofmydad’sroomandletmyeyesfluttershut.“Thatisn’tfunny.”
“Areheartproblemscontagious?BecauseIthinkyouinfectedme.”
Ishakemyhead,lipsquirkingupatthecorners.He’sneverletmelivedownaskingthatwhenIwasyoung.Iwasworriedabouthimgettingtoocloseorspendingtoomuchtimearoundme,justincasemycongenitalheartdefectwassomehowcontagious.“Stillnotfunny.”
“DoyouthinkRob’snoseisbroken?”
Isighheavily.“Idon’tknow.I’mnotthedoctorinthisfamily.”
“Doeshopingitismakemeadick?”
Ibarkoutasadlaughnow.KipandIhavethisfather-daughterrelationshipthatbordersonafriendship,andIwouldn’tchangeitfortheworld.“Youwerealreadyadick.”
“Yeah.That’strue,”hemusesfromthebedbesideme.Ipeekaneyeopenathim.Hisdarkhairisalittlemoremussedthanusual,possiblyevensportingafewmoresilverstreaksthanIremember.Mydadlooks…older.InawayIhadn’tnoticeduntilrecently.Iguessthathappenswhenyoucreepuponyoursixties.
Buthismortalitystrikesmehardrightnow,laidupinahospitalbed,notlookinglikethesuitwearing,tongue-wagging,shitdisturberinaglossyofficethatheusuallydoes.
MyeyesstingasIstudyhim.Irollmylipstogethertokeepthemfromwobbling,tokeeptheshakybreathsinside.
Whenhelooksoveratme,Iclampmyeyesshut.Squeezingthemtightandwillingawaythetearsbuildingbehindmylids.
“Summer,baby,comehere.I’mokay.”Hisvoiceissoft,sosoothing.Ittossesmerightbackintothelongdaysspentinthechildren’swardwithhimatmyside.
Asoblurchesoutofme,andheliftsanarm,gesturingmetowardhim.Andasthetearsspilloutovertheapplesofmycheeks,Ishuffleoverandcrawlintothenarrowhospitalbedandundermydad’sarm.Evenovertheterribleplainscentofhospitalsheets,Icansmellhim,thatintrinsicallycomfortingscent.
“Iwassoscared,Dad.I…AssoonasIfoundout,Icame.Ishouldhavebeenhereearlier.”
Hisbroadpalmrubsupanddownmyarmashetipshischeekontothetopofmyhead.“No,youshouldn’thave.It’snotyourjobtotakecareofme.IaskedWinternottocallyouearlier.Shewantedto.ButIdidn’twantyouworrying.”
Thatjustmakesmecryharder.Inuzzleintohischest,rubbingmywettearsagainsttheroughhospitalgownhe’sstillwearing.“Dad,Ireallyfuckedup.”
“Yeah.”Hekeepsrubbingmyarm.“Isaw.”
“Ididn’twantittocomeoutthatway.Winter.Ididn’twantherto…”
Hisvoicegoesdeadlyevenashisfingerssqueezetight.“Didthatfuckerforceyouintoanything?”
“No.He…I,well,youknow,Ialwayshadacrushonhim.Evenwhenitturnedintojustcheck-ups.”Mydadgrunts.Itwasarunningjoke,really.Iwasn’tsubtle,andit’shardnottobestarry-eyedoverahandsomeyoungdoctorwhosavedyourlifelikehesavedmine.“ItwasaroundwhenIturnedeighteen.Iwaslegalandwentoutwithfriendstohavesomedrinks.Iranintohimatthebarandratherthanpartying,weendedupdrivingaroundallnighttalking.Thingstookofffromthere.”
“Forhowlong?”
Iblowoutaraspberryandturnmyheadtostareattheceiling.“Twoyears.”
“JesusChrist,”Kipmutters.“Thenwhat?”
“Then…Winter.”Iswallowheavily,lettingmyselffeeltheexcruciatingpainIfeltwhenhetoldmehewasgoingoutwithher.Icouldn’twrapmyheadarounditbackthen.ButIcannow.Iwasyoung,andsofuckingwillingforamanwithnoprofessionalboundaries.Idon’tknowhowIdidn’tseeitthatway.Winterstartedatthesamehospital,andhewasinstantlytaken.
AndIwasinstantlyforgotten.
Hedidn’tloveme,heusedmeanddiscardedme.Andnowitmakesmyskincrawl.
“IpromisedhimIwouldnevertellanyone.Ididn’twanttoruinhiscareer.Imean,he’sclearlygoodatwhathedoes.But…”
“Butwhat?”Kipsoundsdownrightmurderous.
“Hejustalwayskindofstrungmealong.Theoddcall,ortext.Aconversationatafamilyevent.HewascarefultonevercrossaphysicallineonceWinterwasinthepicture,buthealwayskindofkeptmethinkingthatmaybe,maybe,thingsmightchange.”
Ibarkoutasadlaugh.Sayingitoutlouditseemssoobvious.
“Becausehewantedtokeepyouinline,”mydadprovides.
“Yeah.Itseemssoblatantnow.Somanipulative.Tothinkofhowmypersonallifehasplayedoutthesepastyears,Ijust…Iguessthat’swhytheysayhindsightis20/20.”
“Stupidfuckingsaying,”Kipmuttersashishandslidesupanddownagain.“Ofcoursehindsightis20/20.”
Ismile,butit’shalf-hearted.“IneedtofindWinter.”
“Youneedtogivehersometime.AndI’mgoingtohavetodealwithMarina.Andyou’regoingtohavetospillthebeansonwhyRhettEatonisactinglikeafire-breathingdragonaroundyou.Butfornow,justlieherewithyouroldmanforaminute.Foroldtime’ssake.”
Idon’targuewithhim,Ijustbreatheindeeplythroughmynose,seekingcomfortinawaythathasmefeelinglikethelittlegirlIoncewas.Inthisveryhospital.Inthisverywing.Withtheonepersonwhoneverstoppedshowingupforme.
AndIdozeoff.
***
I’mwokenbymystepmother,Marina,shovingatmyshoulderinadimroom.Herhairisapaleblonde,andherfeaturesaresevere.Justlikeher.She’swearingagraypencildressunderherwhitecoat.She’sawell-respecteddoctorhere,butshecouldn’tbebotheredtocomecheckonherhusbandinthelasthowevermanyhourssincehehadaheartattack.
She’salwaysbeencruel,though.
“Getout.”Shepointsatthedoor.
She’sneverlikedme.Andononehand,whocanblameher?Butontheother…growthefuckup.
“No.”Ipushuptosittingandcombmyfingersthroughmyhair,tryingtogetmybearings.
“Yes.You’vedoneenoughhereforoneday.”
Myheartplummetsatthereminderofwhathappenedearlier.WithWinter.ThemusclesinmychestconstrictandIdrophergaze.
Onemorereasonforhertohateme.Formysistertohateme.
“Listen,I…”
Herhandshootsup,palmheldflattostopmetalking,andhereyesblazewithicyfury.“Homewreckingishereditaryforyou.Youcan’thelpit.Igetit.Butyou’regoingtodisplaceKip’sheartratemonitorandcreatemoreworkforeveryone.Thisisn’tthetimeforasleepover.Gohome.”
MyjawfallsopenasIstarebackatthiswoman.ThiswomanwhoonlykindofraisedmebecauseKipneverlethergetcloseenough.Itdidn’tstopherfrommakingcommentslikethistomethroughtheyears.I’vedevelopedathickskinwhereMarinaHamiltonisconcerned.Herjabsusedtohurt,butnow…
Ikissmydadonhisforeheadandmoveoffthenarrowbed,limbsheavylikeleadandeyesscratchylikethere’ssandinthem.Mostlikelymascaracrumbsfromcrying.
“Ifeelbadforyou,Marina,”Isayevenly,brushingmyclothesflat.
“Idon’tneedyourpity,”shespitsquietly,pickingupmydad’schartandfixinghergazeonthepapersbeforeher.
“Butyouhaveit.Andyouhavemyforgivenessforhowutterlyawfulyou’vebeentomeformyentirelife.”
Shescoffs,andIpullmyselfupastallasIcangetasIaimforthedoortoleave.BattlingwithMarinaisn’tworththeeffort.However,thatdoesn’tstopmefromsharingsomepartingwords,eventhoughmyvoiceshakesasIdoit.
“You’vespentalifetimehurtingmydad,andIhatethat.ButwhatevergoesonbetweenyouandKipisnoneofmybusiness.You’rebothadults.ButIwillneverforgiveyouformakingitimpossibleformetohavearelationshipwithWinter.Youthinkallyourmaneuveringthroughoutmylifeonlyhurtme,butithurtWinter,too.ItmadeitsothatIfeltlikeIcouldn’ttellherthingsthatshedeservedtoknow.Itmadeitsothatwewerebothisolatedwhenwecouldhavehadeachother.Andthat’s”—Ipointather,rightinherface—“onyouandyourfuckedupvendetta.”
AndthenIspinonaheelandleave.Tooangrytolookatherforevenanothermoment.
Istumbleoutoftheroominsearchofawashroomtofixmyfaceandrelievemybladder.Andmaybetocryalittlemorebymyself.IneedtofindWinter.CallWinter.Explainmyselftomysister.
ButwhenIwanderaroundthecornerandhitthewaitingspace,whatIfindisRhettEaton,cordedarmscrossedoverhischest,hairloosearoundhisshoulders,beardedchintippedup,staringattheceiling.Hisgoldenirisesdancebackandforthasthoughhe’swatchingsomething.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Iask.
Hesitsupstraight,instantlylookingatmeasheclearshisthroatandgripsatthearmrests.“Waiting.Iguess.Yeah,waiting.Iwantedtomakesureyouwereokay.”
“Whattimeisit?”
Henodsatthewallbehindme.“Almosttwo.”
“Twoa.m.?”
“Yeah.”
Isighandscrubatmyface.“Iaskedyoutoleave.”
Thequiethumofthehospitalbehindmeispeacefulinitsfamiliarity.
“Well,Ididn’twanttoleave.Iwantedtosithereandwaittomakethingsrightwithyou.I’llsithereallweekendifIhaveto.”
“No,youwon’t.Youridetomorrow.Youshouldberesting.”
“Summer.Don’tyougetit?”Hestands,holdingouthishandsinfrustration.“Icareaboutyou.”
IsuckinaloudbreathandnodasIdropmygazetohiswornboots.“Right.ButnotenoughtostoptalkingwhenIbeggedyouto.Notenoughtothinkabouttherepercussionsofyougoingoff.Therepercussionsthatlandonme.”
“Hedeservedit,Summer,”Rhettgrowls.
“Andwhataboutme,Rhett?”Myvoiceisborderlineshrill.“WhatdoIdeserve?DoInotdeservetheopportunitytotellmyownstory?Don’tyougetit?Thatwasmysecrettotell.”MythumbsjabatmychestalmostpainfullybeforeIpointathim.“Youpromisedtokeepthatsecret.Andyoubrokethatpromise.Itrustedyou.”
Heblinks,eyessofteningashisshoulderssag.“Secretslikethatwillweighyoudown,Princess.Younevertoldmehewaspartofyourfamily.Imean,fuck.Howdisgustingcanonepersonbe?”
“Don’tprincessme!Wehaven’tknowneachotherforthatlong!I’msosorryIdidn’tspillallmydirtiestsecretstoyourightoffthehop.Howselfishofme.”Myvoicegoesuptoanotherlevel,andIfeelthesleepinessofearlierfallingaway,beingreplacedbypanic.Byheartache.
“Youshouldn’tkeepsecretsthateatyoualivebecauseyou’reworriedaboutwhatpeoplewillthink.Anddefinitelynotbecausesomeoneismanipulatingyouintoit.”
“Iknowthat!Don’tyouthinkIknowthat?Butitwasmystorytotell,andyoutookthatfromme.Inthemostpublic,humiliatingwaypossible.AndasbadlyasRobhurtme,I’mnotouttotankhiscareer.”Thatonestatementlandslikeanatomicbomb,silencingeverythingaroundus.Rhett’sexpressiongoesblank.
Heglancesaway,likeithurtstokeephiseyesonme,andgiveshisheadasubtleshake.“Jesus.Doyoustillhaveathingforhim?”
IwaveahandinfrontofuswhileIcombtheoppositeonethroughmyhair.“No!Ofcoursenot!No.It’sjustcomplicated.Andit’snotabouthim.Notreally.Iknowyoudon’tcarewhatpeoplethink.Butme?Ido.Andyoukeepsteamrollingthat.MaybeIshouldn’tcaresomuchaboutwhatpeoplethink,andmaybeyoushouldcaremore.Maybeyourfamilyisunsupportiveofyou,ormaybethey’rescaredthateverytimeyouwalkoutthatdoor,itmightbethelasttimetheyeverseeyou.”
I’mpantingnow,andRhettlooksstrickenbywhatI’vejustsaid.“Otherpeople’sfeelingsareinvolved.It’snotallaboutyouandwhatyouwant,Rhett.Notwhenyoulovesomeone.Icarewhatmysisterthinksofme—evenifIshouldn’t,evenifshe’smean.Andmydad?”Ipointbehindme.“Themaninthatroom,whocouldhavediedtoday,istheonlypersonwhoreallycaresaboutme,theonlypersonI’vegot.Theybothdeservedbetterthanhearingaboutthisthewayitjustcameout.MaybeRobgotwhathedeserves,butwhatabouttherestofus?”
Histeethgrindashegazesdownatme,unblinking.Hewipesahandacrosshismouth.“Igetthat.Ido.AndI’msofuckingsorryIblewuplikeIdid.ButSummer”—hereachesforme,butIstepback—“you’vegotmetoo.I’mnotsurehowelsetoproveit.Ikeeptellingyou,andit’slikeyoudon’thearme.”
Myeyessting.He’ssayingallthethingsIsobadlywanttohear.He’sofferingmeallthesupportIsodesperatelywantfromhim.ButI’malsoreallyfuckingangryathimforbetrayingmytrustandforbeingrightaboutsomuchandwrongaboutsomuchallatonce.
I’mangrythatthisisn’teasier.Thatnothinginmylifeeverhasbeen.Atthismoment,I’mnotfeelingveryglasshalffull,andItakeitoutonthegoodmanstandinginfrontofme.BecauseasmuchasIwantto,Ican’trelyonamanwho’ssobusynotcaringwhatanyonethinksthathe’llhurtmetoprovethepoint.
“Oh,Ihearyou,Rhett.Ijustdon’tbelieveyou.Whatyoudidtonightdoesn’tfeellikeyoucaringaboutme.Itfeelslikeyoulosingcontrolandflyingoffthehandle.”Asurgeofnauseahitsme,andIholdahandovermymouthasIpinhimwithwateryeyes.“Gohome.Toyourhotel.Justgo.Ican’tdealwithyourightnow.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?Foryouandme?”
Myeyesclose.Eventhatsmallmovementhurts.Everythinghurts.Alaughthatblendsintoasobleapsfrommylips.“Idon’tknow,Rhett.I’mnotevensurethereisayouandme.We’veneverbeenmorethanhereandnow.”
AndthenIpushpasthimtocryinthewashroom,justlikeIplanned.
Well,alittleharderthanIplanned.29Summer
Summer:Winter,canwepleasetalk?I’mcomingbacktothehospitaltoday.Icanmeetyouanyplace,anytime.Idon’texpectyoutoforgiveme.Iwouldjustliketotellyoumysideofthestory.
Winter:There’snothingtoforgive.
Summer:Okay.Canwepleasejuststilltalk?Iknowthingsarestrainedbetweenus,butIloveyou.Iwanttomakesureyou’reokay.
Winter:I’mnotokay.I’mpregnant.Andthefatherofmychildhasbeenlyingtomeforyears.I’mnotreadytotalk.Pleasestopasking.I’llcontactyouwhenI’mready.
***
Rhett:HowisKip?
Summer:Apparently,fine.
Rhett:Howareyou?
Summer:Tired.
Rhett:WhatcanIdotohelp?Justtellme.
Summer:Nothing.
Rhett:HaveImentionedhowsorryIam?
Summer:Justbesafetonight,please.
***
“So,tellmeaboutthecowboy.”
Idecidenottoturnaround.Instead,Ibusymyselfrearrangingsomeofmydad’sflowersintheirvase.“Hm?”IasklikeIdidn’thearhim.
“Youknow.Longhair.Punchespeoplewho’vewrongedyou.Featuredonyourwallasateenager.”
Igroan,droppingmychintomychest.
“BetyouthoughtIdidn’trememberthat.”
“Yup.”Istareatthewhitesneakersonmyfeet.Ifinallysnuckbacktoourhousethismorning.Asthoughitmightmakemefeelbetter,Itookashower,blowdriedmyhair,andputonaprettymatchingbraandthongset.Ithrewonsomejeansandasoft,grayjerseypulloverandcamebacktokeepDadcompany.
Feelingrightasrain.Ifthisweremylastmoment,I’dwanttobehappywithmydad.So,I’mforcingmyselftofeelthat.Todothat.TocontrolwhatIcan.
AndI’mfailingbecauseI’msickaboutWinter.Iwasliterallysickoverthatlastmessageshesentme.Ihavetokeepbusysomehow.Rhettridestonight,andWilla’sbarishostingsomeconcertthisweekend,soI’mherewithKip,whoisnowaskingquestionsIdon’twanttoanswer.
Withasigh,Iturnandfacemydad,whoappearsawfullypleasedwithhimself.“Youshouldlookworse.Youjusthadaheartattack.”
Hewavesmeoff.“Aminorheartattack.Andyouknowwhatwouldmakemefeelbetter?”
“What?”Iperkup,eagerforsomethingtokeepmebusyandoutofmyhead.Somethingotherthanarrangingflowersthatdon’tneedarranging.
“TellmeaboutwhatwentdownwithRhett.”
“Ugh.”Istompacrosstheroom,feelingnotablychildishasIflopdownintothechairbesidehim.“Idon’tknowwhattotellyou.”
“Doyoulikehim?”
Fuckme,thisisawkward.Ican’tevenlookatKip.He’sfoundoutmoreaboutmysexlifeinthepasttwenty-fourhoursthanI’dhavelikedhimtoknowinmyentirelifetime.
“Yeah,Dad.Ilikehim.He’snotlikehecomesoff.Nothinglikeeveryonethinks.”
“Iknow.”
Myheadflipsinhisdirection.“Youdo?”
“Ofcourse,Iknow.Beenhelpingthatkidforoveradecadenow.Hepissesmeoffbecausehe’saloosefuckingcannon,butIlikehim.Iknewyoutwowouldgetalongeventually.”
Iblink,thinkingbacktothewayKiprantedandravedabouthimwhenthiswholemilkthinghitthefan.Isawitasfrustration,butnow,I’mthinkingitmightbeaffection.Frustrationthatthingsweren’tgoingrightforhimratherthanfrustrationdirectedathim.
“Well,cool,”Isay,slumpingbackinmychair.“Waytoplayweirdmatchmaker.Itworked.”
Icanfeelmydadstaringatme.Hisgazeisburningaholeinmyresolvetonotsaymore.
“Ilethimgetinmypants,okay?”Ifinallyblurt.
Mydadlaughs.
IbringmyhandsuptomyforeheadasIstareattheceiling.“Youtoldmenottolethimgetintomypants,andIbrushedyouofflikethatwasinsane.AndthenIlethimgetinmypants.So,whenwegetbacktowork,youcanjustfiremeandletmeknowwhatanunprofessionaldisappointmentIam.Also,canwepleasenevertalkaboutmysexlifeagainafterthis?”
OnceKip’slaughtersubsides,helooksoverandgivesmyelbowasqueeze.“Right.Well,Idon’tthinkItoldyounottofallinlovewithhim.”
“Idon’tlovehim.”
Heshrugsandgivesmeoneofthosesarcasticfrownsthatsays,Okay,sure,butwebothknowyou’refullofshit
Icrossmyarms,determinednottogivehimanyfurtherinteltoharassmewith.Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.AndIdefinitelydon’twanttoconsiderthefactthatImightbeinlovewithRhettEaton.
ThecurrentstateofthingshurtbadenoughwithoutthrowingtheLwordaround.
“Wannastreamhiseventandtalkabouthowterribleheis?”
Isnort.ThelegIhavecrossedjigglesasItrytoavoidmakingeyecontactwithmydad.He’sdangledacarrotIalmostcan’tresist.
Ononehand,IwanttowatchbecauseIalreadymissRhettsobadlythatthere’saconstantacheinmychest.Ontheotherhand,Idon’twanttowatchbecausethere’saconstantacheinmychestthatwillonlyworsenwiththeanxietyofwatchinghimride.
“Okay.Fine.”I’mweak.I’msofuckingweak.Amasochist,really.
KipgrinsandreachesforhisiPad,pattingthebedashescootchesover.Ifoldmyselfontothebedbesidehimandseethathealreadyhasthelivestreamqueuedandreadytogo.
Traitor.
Icrossmyarmsandleanback,settlingintowatch.Thestartinvolvesalotoffireworks,girlsinleatherpantsholdingsigns,andtheannouncersgivingarundownofthestandingsleadingintotheWorldChampionships,whicharetwoweeksfromnow.Alltheytalkaboutisthatgoddamngoldbuckle.TheysoundlikeRhett.
Irecognizethenamesofplentyoftheguysastheytaketheirturns.ItellmydadallthatI’velearnedaboutthesport.Thescoring,whatmakesabullagoodone,howtheyrubattheirbullropestosoftentherosinandmoldittotheirhands.
Helistensraptly,eventhoughthere’sapartofmethat’scertainheknowsalotofwhatI’mtellinghim.IthinkIjustneedtofillthespacewithsomethingthatisn’tmysexlife.
Wehissandgroaninunisonwhenguysfallorwhentherodeoclownnarrowlyescapes.It’saterrifyingsport.
“Oh,that’sTheo.”Ipointatthescreen.“He’sRhett’sprotégé.Likealittlebrother.”
“Oh,good.AnotherRhett.Justwhatthisworldneeds,”mydadjokes.Ilaugh,butit’shalf-hearted,becausethefirstthoughtthatjumpsintomyheadis,Rhettisirreplaceable.
TheLwordpopsupagainandIpushitaway,crossingmyarmstighteracrossmyribsasthoughIcansqueezethethoughtrightoutofmybody.
MylungshardeninmychestwhenIseeRhettclimbuponthefencepanelstohelpTheo.He’snotatourcoach,sohedoesn’tneedtobethere.Hejustis.AflashofguilthitsmeforsayingwhatIsaidtohimaboutnoteverythingbeingabouthim.
Itwasacruelthingtosay.
Iseethegateflyopenandnoiseeruptsfromthetinytabletscreen.Theo’slegsswing,armheldupinperfectposition.Thesplattered-lookingbullisbucking,straightandnotoverlyhigh,soTheodigsinwithhisspurs.
Andthat’swhenitallgoestoshit.
Thebullturnshardandfast,andTheoisn’tready.He’schuckedforwardontothebull’sneck.Hishatfliesinonedirectionandhislimpbodyintheother.Igasp,myhandcominguptocovermymouthasIshootforward.Whenhehitstheground,dustfloatsuparoundhimasheliesmotionless.
“Shit.”IhearKip’svoice,butI’mhardlyprocessingbecausethebullhasabandonedtheclownhewaschasing,andnowall2000poundsofhimbarrelsdownonalifeless-lookingTheo.
Ibarelyregisterwhat’shappeningoutsidethering,whichiswhyIhardlyseeitcoming.RhettrunsoutfromtheleftofthescreenandthrowshimselfonTheo’sbodylikeashield.
Selflessandheroicandstupid.
Andjustintimetobearthebruntofthebull’scharge.
AllIknowisthatIscream.30Rhett
Kip:Ihopeyou’renotdead,butonlybecausemydaughterisdistraughtoveryourightnow,andifyou’redead,Ican’tkickyourassforhurtingher.
***
Redlightsflashandprojectaroundthebaywheretheambulancepullsuptothehospital.I’veshooedtheparamedicsawayateveryturn.Myribsarefucked.Idon’tneedamedicalprofessionaltotellmethat.
Theohasbeeninandoutofconsciousnessbecausehe’stoofuckingstupidtowearahelmet,andI’mnotleavinghisside.
TheypullthebackdoorsopenandliftTheo’sstretcher.He’sstrappeddownonahardboard.SomethingI’mhopingisjustaprecaution,consideringhecaneasilymovehisfeet.Hewasawakeforlongenoughtheywereabletogethimtodothatmuch.
Ifollow,ignoringthelancingpaininmybackandfeelingeveryyearofmyageaboutahundredtimesover.Itdoesn’thelpthatIdidn’tsleepawinklastnight.
WhenIclosedmyeyes,allIsawwasSummer.Herperfectlips.Herdeepbrowneyesshrink-wrappedintears.
Fuckinghaunting.
Butrightnow,IjustneedtoknowthatTheoisokay.Ifollowintotheemergencyroom,ignoringtheskepticalglancesoneparamedicgivesme.SheknowsI’mlyingtothemaboutmyinjury.Plus,ImadeahugesceneaboutgoingwithTheo,soI’mprobablynotintheirgoodbooks.
I’llgetatourdoctortocheckmeoutlater.
“You.”Shepointsatme.“Sitthere.”ShepointsattheplasticchairjustinsidethedoorastheywheelTheothrough,andthistime,Ilisten.
IgaspwhenIbendtosit,droppingmyheadintomyhandsandbreathingshallow,hopingthepainwillsubsideifIdon’tmove.
I’mnotsurehowlongIsitherelostinthepainofmyribsandtheworryaboutmyfriendwhenIhear,“Rhett.Longhair.Handsome.Probablyatotalassholetoyou?”
It’sSummer’sdistraughtvoice,brimmingwithpainandanxietyandpanic.AsifIdidn’talreadyfeelsickenoughaboutmydickheadbehavioryesterdayandmakinghercry—fuck,thatkilledme—nowIhavetolistentoherterrifiedvoice.
Itfeelslikerollinginglass,athousandcutsallovermybody,tohearhersoupset.
AndIdidthattoher.Yesterday.Today.
“Rhett!”
WhenIseeher,Iheave.Painradiateseverywhere.Mascarastreamsdownherfaceasshejogsdownthehallwaytowardme,fingerswrappedaroundthecuffsofhersleeves.
Beautifulanddevastated.
Ididthat.
“Oh,myGod.Areyouokay?”Shefallstoherkneesinfrontofme,handsflutteringabovemylegsbeforesheletsherselftouchme.“Areyouokay?”
Hereyesscanme,asthoughshe’llbeabletoseebrokenbonesthroughmyclothesandskin.
“I’mfine.”Ihurttoomuchtomove.ApartofmethinksIshouldtouchher.TheotherpartknowsIshouldsalvageherfromthepainofthis,ofwatchingmedothis.Withmydadandbrothers,theiremotionsarelockedup.Idon’tknowifthey’reactuallyafraidformeorjustmakingfunofme.
ButwithSummer,Icanseeitplainasday.
Fear.
“Isawyou.”Herhandsmovelightly,solightly,upmyarmsandovermyshoulders.Shesniffsasshetakesmein.“Isawithappen.”
Mychestcavesin.Afterthewordsweexchangedlastnight,Idon’tknowwhattomakeofthis.ButIknowthatseeingherthisupsetiskillingme.It’sturningmystomach.
Whenshetouchesmyribs,Iflinch.SheliftsmyshirtbeforeIcanstopher.
“Oh,God.Rhett.”Hervoicecracks,andIwatchafattearfallfromhereye.Itrollsoffherdarklashesandsplattersonhercheek.
Itbreaksmyfuckingheart.
Ihaven’tlookedatmyribsyet,andIhadn’tplannedto.Ifeelhernailontheskinandjump,shovingherhandawayastheshirtfallsbackdowntocoverwhatappearstobeonehellofabruise.
“I’llgogetthedoctor.”
Sheturnstoleave,andIgrabherwrist.“No.”
“No?”Herfacetwistsingenuineconfusion.
“No.I’llseeatourdoctorlater.Adoctorherewillwanttoadmitmeandkeepmefromriding.”
Sheblinks.Once.Twice.Threetimes.Thetipofhernoseisredfromcrying.“You’regoingtoride?”
“Probablynottomorrow.Butyes,I’mgoingtoride.Ididn’tmakeitthisfartomissmyshotatthebuckle.”
Sheshakesherheadlikeshecan’tquitebelievewhatshejustheard.“Yourribsareprobablybroken.Youcouldhaveinternaldamage.”
“I’llbefine,”Igrumble,glancingawaybecauseIcan’tlookatheranymore.Ithurtsworsethanmyribs.
“Rhett,please.Iknowenoughtoknowyouwon’trideyourbestlikethis.It’snotsafe.”
I’magitatedbecauseshe’sfuckingkillingmerightnow.AndIwanttorelent.Ido.Forher,Ido.
She’snotwrong.ButIalsohatewhenpeopletellmetostopriding.Iwantthelastwin.It’sallIhave.Shesaidthingstomeyesterdaythatstung.Thatresonated.ThatmademerealizeIdon’thaveher,notreally.
SomaybeI’mmad.Alittlewounded.
Iknowitisn’tfairtomakeherendurethiswhenshe’salreadybeenthroughsomuch.Iwanttoprotectherfromanyassholewhomighthurther.Andthatneedstoincludeme.
Maybethat’swhyIsaysomethingI’llcometoregret.
“Weslepttogetherforacoupleofweeks,Summer.Don’ttellmewhattodo.”Ispittheangry,pettywordsatherandwatchherlipspresstogether.
Ihatemyselfinstantly.
Shepushestostanding,pullinginadeepbreathandwipingathernoseasshestraightens,sofullofgraceandclass.Sofuckingfaroutofmyleague.PullingawayfrommelikeIwantedherto,eventhoughIcouldbesickoverit.
Regretpulsesthrougheverylimb.Itcoursesthrougheveryvein.Itsingeseverynerve.
Shenodsatmeandwalksaway.
Takingmyfuckingheartwithherasshegoes.
***
“Where’sSummer?”mydadasksasIenterthekitchen.
Andthereitis.ThereasonIwentbacktodrinkingcoffeeinmybedroomthismorning.Buteventheviewfrommydeckdoesn’tseemthatimpressiveanymore.
WhileImulloverhowtoanswermydad’squestion,Ilimpovertothecoffeemakerforanothercup,tryingnottolookasinjuredasIambutfeelinglikeI’vebeenhitbyafuckingMacktruck.
Brokenribs,asconfirmedbythetourdocs.Istayedinthecityforonemorenight.TheydischargedTheowithasevereconcussion,butherodethenextnightanyway.Iwantedtotellhimnotto,andIbitmytonguesoharditbled.
I’dtoldSummernottotellmewhattodo,sowhothefuckamItotellanotherguyjustlikemeheshouldn’tride?
Herodewell,andIwatchedfromthesidelines.Imighthaveafewscrewsloose,butIknowmyboundaries,andtheamountofpainI’minrightnowdoesn’tworkforsittingonabull.ItputsmebehindgoingintotheWorldChampionship,butonlyslidesmeintosecond.EmmettinfirstandTheointhird.
“Inthecitywithherdad,”Ifinallysay.It’sasafeanswer,andit’strue.Idon’tknowwhereelsewe’reat.IlastedallofadaybeforeIwasmessagingher.Apologizing.
Butfuckme,it’snotevenclosetoenough.Iwassoupset,soworried,insomuchpain—butthere’snoexcuseforwhatIsaid.Especiallyconsideringhowfarfromthetruthitis.
Asthefrustrationburninginmygutcooled,ittransformedintoaheavyboulder.Makingmefeelsick.Nauseous.Dizzy.
I’veneverfeltsickoveragirl.I’venevermadeabiggermistake.
Andshestillhasn’tresponded.
Cadeburststhroughthebackdoor,stalkingstraightintothekitchen,lookinglikesomesortofavengingcowboy,angryandwearingblack,thesunshininginfrombehindhim.“Whyaretheboysinthebunkhousetalkin’aboutyougettingrag-dolledbyafuckin’bulllastnight?”
Isensemydadgostillashelooksupfromhisnewspaper.
Ofcourse,allthoseassholesarerunningtheirmouths.
“Rhett?”MydadquirksabrowwhileCadebreathesheavilyandglares.
“Oneoftheguyswasknockedout.Myguy.Gabriel’sson.Whenthebullwentgunningforhim,Ijust…”Iscrubatmybeard,thinkingbacktothatmoment.Whatwentthroughmymind?I’mnotentirelysure.AllIknewisIcouldn’tsitthereandwatchoneofmybestfriendsgetgoredbyabull.“Actedoninstinct,Iguess.Jumpedontopofhim.”
“Youwhat?”MydadexclaimsatthesametimeCadebarks,“Ialwaysknewyouwerestupid,butthatreallytakesthecake.”
“Areyouokay,son?”
Iopenmymouthtoanswer,butCadecutsmeoff.“No,he’snotokay.Heridesfuckingangrycowswithtesticlesforaliving.He’sstandingcrookedlikeabrokencock.Andhe’sclearlygotmorethanafewscrewsrattlingaroundinhisthickhead.”
Istarebackatmybigbrother,whoispositivelyseething.“Youalwayshadawaywithwords.”
Mydadchucklesatthat,butthenisbackonme.“Youseemtobeinonepiece?”
“Myribsaren’t,”Ireply,beforetippingthesteamingcoffeebackintomymouth.
“So,you’reoutfortheseason?”Idon’tmissthetwingeofhopeinmydad’svoice.
WhichmeansIfeellikescumwhenItellhimthetruth.“Nah.I’mstillheadingtoVegas.Lastshotatthatbuckle.”
“DidahorsekickyouintheheadasachildwhenIwasn’twatching?”Cadeasks.“Beaubeatyourasstoohardonetime?IfIshakeyouhardenough,willitgetyouthinkingstraight?”
Cadeismad,butmydadjustlookssad.Hisblinklastsafewbeatstoolongashenodshisheadandfoldshisnewspaper.“WhenisSummercomingback?”heasksashepusheshimselfupfromthetable.
“Idon’tknow.”IstareatmyfeetwhenIsayit.
Cadescoffs.
“Herdadhadaheartattack,soshe’swithhimrightnow.”
“So,she’llbebacksoon?IsKipokay?”Mydadseemssohopeful.HelikesSummer.Iknowthetwoofthemenjoyedmorningcoffeesandeasyconversation.Ithinkeveryoneenjoyedhavingherhereontheranch.
“Dad,Idon’tknow.ButIdoknowthatKipisgoingtobefine.”
Hegivesmeaflatsmileandawavebeforeturningaway.“Gottarunsomeerrandsintown.Bebacklater.”
Isaynothing.Ahousefullofmenhasn’tbeenconducivetosittingaroundtalkingaboutourfeelings.I’veneverhadthatkindofrelationshipwithmydad.Ormybrothers,forthatmatter.Wecareforeachother,andweteaseeachother,andsometimeswefightwitheachother.
WhichiswhatitlookslikeCadeisitchingforashetakesafewmenacingstepsintothekitchen.“Smartgirl,”iswhathesaysashepropsahipagainstthecountertopandcrosseshisarms,thecanvasofhisblackcoatraspingashedoes.
“Fuckyou,Cade.”Ishakemyhead.
“No,Rhett.Fuckyou.Youfuckingbolthead.Youhadsomethingwiththatgirl.”
Ihuffoutalaugh.“Cade,youdon’tevenlikeher.”
“Ilikeherbecauseshe’sgoodforyou.Ilikeherbecauseshedoesn’ttakeourshit,andshedoesn’trolloverforyoulikesomelovesickpuppydog.Idon’tlikeherbecauseshe’ssmarterthanme,andthat’sfuckingannoying.”
Myteethclampandgrindasmybigbrotherstaresmedown.“Youwereadifferentpersonwithher.Youwerehappy.Youdidn’thavethatsad,lostlittleboylookaboutyou.Theoneconstantlyseekingattentionanddoingdumbshittogetit.Becauseyouhadherattention.You’rejusttoostupidtoseeit.”
“Isthisyourversionofapeptalk?”
“No,youdolt.It’stheclosestthingtoanasskickingIcangiveyouwithoutbeatingonamanwithbrokenribs.”
“Icouldstilltakeyou.”Icouldn’t.Cadeisbigger.Taller.Andmeaner.
“You’resobusyrunningaroundbeingashowboatrodeoboythatyoudon’tevenrealizewhatyou’vegot.Youthinkweallpickonyouforridingbullsbecausewe’rejustbeingdicks?It’sbecauseweloveyou.Youdon’trememberwhenmomdied.ButIdo.Iwasthere.Iwatchedourdadholdherwhileshebledout.Suddenly,ateight,IwaswranglingyouandBeaubecausedadwasashellofhimself,focusedontakingcareofViolet.AndnowI’masingledad.IwatchLukegroweverydayanddreadthedayIcan’tbetheonetokeephimsafe.”
Ibitemyinnercheek.IknowCadeisseriousrightnowbecauseIdon’tthinkIcanrememberhimevertellingmethathelovesme.
“Whenyouhaveakid,everyonewarnsyouaboutthesleeplessnights.Theexplosivediaperchanges.Howtheygrowsofastthatyouhemorrhagemoneyonclothingthem.Whattheydon’ttellyouisthatyou’llneverspendanotherdayofyourlifewithoutworryingaboutanotherperson.You’llnevercompletelyrelaxagainbecausethatpersonyoucreatedwillalways,alwaysbeonyourmind.You’llwonderwheretheyare,whatthey’redoing,andifthey’reokay.”
Thebridgeofmynosestingsathiswords,andIsnifftoclearit.PainlancesthroughmeasIdo.Fuckme,everythinghurts.
“NotknowingwhereBeauisorwhathe’sdoingisbadenough.Buthe’sservingthiscountry,he’sgotagoodreasontobegone.Butyou?Youfuckingwonitall.Twice.Youmakemillionsofdollars.Ifyouhadabrain,youwouldtakethatmoneyandsetyourselfuprealnice.Whenisitenoughforyou?”
Iinterrupthimthere.“Ifullyintendtoputmymoneytowardthisplace.Iplantocomebackhereandhelpyou.Ineedsomethingtodowithmyself.”
Cade’sgazenarrows.“When?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Afterthisseason?”
Isigh.“Idon’tknow.Somedays,Idon’tevenknowifIlikeitanymoreorifit’sjustwhatIknow.Quittingishard.Myentireidentityiswrappedupinridingbulls.”
“Withher,itwasn’t.AndIdon’twantaninheritancefromyou.”Hepushesoffthecounter,shakinghishead.“Iwanttobepoorandhaveyoupissingmeoffforyearstocome.”
FromCade,thatsentimentis,well,likeashottotheheart.Heleavesme,onlystoppingwhenhehitsthedoor,fingerstappingagainsttheframe.Heglancesatmeoverhisshoulder.
“Rhett,workingontheranchisn’tsomethingtodowithyourself.Thisisajob.AjobIlove.Iwouldn’tdoitifIdidn’t.Youneedtofigureoutwhatyouloveandmakethatyourlifetoo.”
TheonlywordinmyheadwhenthatscreendoorslamsbehindhimisSummer31Summer
Rhett:Pleaseansweryourphone.
Rhett:Ididn’tmeanwhatIsaid.
Rhett:Fuck,Ihatemyselfsomuchfordoingthistoyou.
Rhett:Areyouokay?CanIjustgetsomesignoflifesoIcanstopwalkingaroundfeelingsickallthetime?
Rhett:Yourdadtoldmeyou’restillalive.Healsosayshe’sgoingtocutmyhairoffinmysleep.
Rhett:Iwanttoexplainmyself.Iwanttoapologize.Iwanttohearyourvoice.Evenifit’syoubitchingmeout.Ideservethat.Pleasepickup.
Rhett:I’mgoingtoblowyourphoneupfortherestofyourlife.
Rhett:Itwasn’tjustsleepingtogether.Notevenclose.Itwaseverything.Anditscaredme.
Rhett:Ican’tloseyou.
***
“Ihearyou’rerunningatightshiparoundhere.Reallycrackingthewhip.”
MyheadsnapsupfromthecontractI’mscouringasKipsauntersintomyofficelikehedidn’tjusthaveaheartattacklastweek.
“You’renotsupposedtobehere.”
Herollshiseyesbeforehelpinghimselftothechairacrossfromme.“Yougoingtotattleonme,Princess?”Iflinch,andmydad’sheadquirksinresponse.“Areyoutoooldforthatnamenow?”
Mylipsrollagainsteachother,andIswallowtheachethatcrawlsupthebackofmythroat.“Yeah,”Icroak.“Ithinkso.HaveyouheardfromWinter?”
Ispininmyofficechairandbenddowntopullsomething—anything—outofmyfilingcabinet.Ineedabreatherawayfromthatgoddamnnickname.Abreakfromhisincessantcallsandtexts.LeaveittoRhettEatontonotonlycrushmyheartbutalsoruinmyfavoritechildhooddress-upgameandnickname.
“No.”Dadhesitatesonlyslightly,butit’senoughtoconvincemeI’mnotgettingthefullstory.“Youenjoyingyourdaysherewithoutme?”hejokes,perceptiveenoughtochangethesubject.
Isighandliftthepapersinfrontofme,tappingthemagainstthedesktoevenalltheedgesbeforeslippingapaperclipoverthetopcorner.“Honestly,Dad,notreally.Ilikeitwhenyou’rehere.You’reatotalnut.”Ismileandslipthesheetsintothemanillafolderbesideme.“Butyou’remynut.”
Iexpecthimtolaugh,buthesteepleshisfingersbeneathhischinandregardsmecarefully,likehecan’tdecidewhattosaynext,whichistrulysomethingforamanlikeKipHamilton.“You’remynuttoo.Butareyouahappynut?”
“Happyenough.”
IstraightenthingsonmydesklikethenervouswreckthatIam.Myphonechimesandeventhatmakesmestart.Rhetthasbeenrelentlessforanentireweeknow,butI’mstillgivinghimthesilenttreatment.I’mnotreadytotalktohim.OrmaybeI’mscaredtotalktohim.
“Yougonnaanswerthat?”
Ifinallymeetmyfather’seyes.“No.”
“Youknowthathappyenoughisn’tactuallyhappyenough,right?”
AsighescapesmeasIpressmybackintothechair,pushingmyshouldersback.
“Especiallysinceyoudon’tseemallthathappytome.”
Igrunt.“I’mjusthavingaday.”
“Don’tbullshitabullshitter,Summer.I’vewatchedyouyourentirelife.Iknowwhatyoulooklikehappy,anditisn’thowyouarewhenyou’rehere.DoyouknowwhyIworksohardhere?Longhours?Weekends?”
I’moutoffuckstogive,soItellhimtheblunttruth.“Honestly,IalwaysfigureditwastoavoidhavingtospendtimearoundMarina.”Mystepmotherisn’tapleasanthuman.
Nowit’shisturntoflinch.Wedon’ttalkmuchabouthisphilandering.It’sawkward,becauseI’mtheby-productofit,andIdon’twanttohearhimsayheregretsit.“No.IdoitbecauseIlovewhatIdo.IbuiltthiscompanyfromthegroundupandworkedmyassofftogetHamiltonElitetowhereitistoday.”
“Iknow.Andoneday,you’llbeabletopassitofftomeandenjoyalavishretirement.”
“No,Summer.Thatwasnevermyendgame.Iwantedtoshowyouthatanythingwaspossible.Thatourtransgressionsdon’tdefineus.Ididashittything,butoneoftheverybestthingsinmylifecameoutofit.ThingswillalwaysbestrainedbetweenMarinaandIbecauseasmuchasIapologizetoher,Ican’tbringmyselftosaythatIregretit.BecauseIhaveyou.”
Tearsspringupinmyeyes.“Yeah,well,Ibetyoudidn’tknowI’dbesuchatimesuckwhenyousigneduptokeepme.”
“Summer,stop.”Heleansforward,abroadhandspreadoutonthetablebetweenus.“IfMarinaorthatpieceofshityoursistermarriedevermadeyoufeelunworthyforevenonemoment,putitoutofyourmind.Youarenotaburden.Youarenotawasteoftime.Youareverywanted.Andanyonewhomakesyoufeelyou’reanythinglessdeservesRhettEaton’sfisttotheirface.Oryours.Youcanhitbacktoo,youknow?I’llbailyououteveryfuckingtime.”
Atearspillsdownmycheek,andInod.“Iknowyouwill.AndIwanttobethatforyou,too.Iwanttobeherehelpingyou.Carryingonyourlegacy.”
“Summer.”Hisvoicedropsalongwithhisshoulders.“Thisplaceisn’tmylegacy.ThisplaceiswhereIbusymymindandbody.Thisplaceismypassion.Mylegacyisshowingyouthatifyoupursuesomethingyoulove,you’llmakeitwork.Blood.Sweat.Tears.Andawholelottalove.Doyoufeelthatwayaboutthisplace?”
Isniffleandblinkrapidly,regardingtheshiny,bright,immaculateandmodernoffice.AllIwantisthesmellofsweatymatsatagymandtheclankingofplatesontheendofabarbell.Iwantopenfields,crispair,andtheRockyMountainsattheendofthehorizon.
Iwantamanwhosmellslikeleather,lookslikeaglassofbourbon,andwhocallsmeprincesswhiledrawingonmyback.
IwantRhetttounsaywhathesaid.
Iwanthimtowantme.Morethanhewantsanything.Ideservethat.HetaughtmethatIdo.
“No,Idon’t.Ijustdon’twanttoletyoudown,”Isob,mycontrolcracking.
Kipreachesacrossthedesk,holdinghispalmupandwigglinghisfingersuntilIplacemyhandinhis.“Listentomecarefully,Summer.Theonlywayyoucouldeverdisappointmeisbynotlivingyourlifetothefullest.Notgoingafterwhatexhilaratesyou.Youdeservethat.Andyoudeservesomeonewhowantsthatforyou.”
HewrapshisfingersaroundmywristasIattempttopullaway.“I’mnotstupid.IknowthingsarestrainedbetweenyouandRhettafterthatexplosion.ButIalsoknowthatmendon’tlookatawomanthewayhelooksatyouunlessthey’reoutoftheirgoddamnmindforthatperson.Iknowyou’resoaccustomedtopleasingeveryonethatyougiveandgiveuntilyouhavenothinglefttogive.Rhettmightbealittlerougharoundtheedges,butmaybeyousmoothhimoutandhescuffsyouup.Idon’tknow.Onlyyoucanmakethesedecisions.ButwhatIsawthatnightwasamanwho’dburneverythingdowntodefendyou.Isawamanwho’driskitalltotakecareofyou.”
“Idon’tneedtobetakencareof.”
“Maybenot.Butthatmanwearshisloveforyouonhissleevefortheentireworldtosee.Andhedoesn’tgiveashitwhoseesit.He’dscreamitfromthemountaintopsifyouaskedhimto.It’swrittenalloverhim.Andyoudefinitelyneedthat.”
Iblowoutabreathandstareupattheceiling.Rhettlovingme.Itseemssounlikely.Sofar-fetched.
“AreyougoingtoVegasforthefinals?”
Kipgetsmyattentionwiththatcomment.“Areyoutryingtoplaymatchmakeragain?It’sfuckingannoying.”
“Well,areyou?”
“Ofcoursenot.I’llbeworkingtomakeupforyouroldassbeinglaidup,”Itrytojoke.It’sfamiliarfootingforus,butitcomesoutallwatery.
ThethoughtofRhettchasinghisthirdtitlewithoutasoulinthestandswhoreallyknowshimisagutpunch.Ishouldn’tcaresomuch,butIdo.Itmakesmoretearsfallthinkingofthewildboywholosthismom,whodoesn’thavethesupportofhisfamily,ridinginjuredforwhatcouldbethelasttime.Astadiumfullofstrangerscheeringhimon,butnotasinglepersonwholoveshimtheretowitnessit.Noonetoshareitwith.
“No,youwon’t.Becauseyou’refired.”
Istillandmeetmyfather’sgaze,asadsmileplayingatmylips.“Ha.Ha.Veryfunny.”
“I’mnotjoking.You’refired.Youhaveuntiltheendofthedaytoclearoutyourdesk,andI’llgiveyousixweeksofseverance.”
“Areyoukidding?”Myheartrateaccelerates.Hecan’tbeserious.“IwenttolawschoolsoIcoulddothis.SothatIcouldbethebestfitforyouhere.”
Hepushestostand,dustinghishandsofflikehe’sdonesomegreatworkhere.“Yup.Andnowyou’regoingtogofindsomethingtodothatisthebestfitforyou.You’regoingtostopworryingaboutwhateveryoneelsethinksofyouorwantsfromyou.Andyou’regoingtowaltzoutintheworldandbeselfishforonce.Takewhatyouwantandstopfeelingguiltyaboutit.Takeitfromme,guiltwilleatyoualive.”
Heknockshisfistonmydeskandstridesoutofmyoffice,tossingout,“Gottagettomymeeting,”overhisshoulder.
Socasual,likehedidn’tjustblowupmyentirelifetoteachmesomesortoftough-lovelesson.
***
Istareatmyselfinthemirror,dabbingatmyeyesandwillingawaythesplotchyrednessonmyneckandchest.MyheartispoundingsohardIcanseetheskininmythroatjumpingeverytimeitpumps.
It’scomfortinganddistracting.I’malive,butamIreallyliving?OrhaveIjustbeenscuttlingalong,puttingeveryoneelsefirst?
Ipressmypalmtomychest,justabovethescartheretofeeltheorganpumping.
DidIchaseofftheonemanotherthanmyfatherwhoputmefirst?Washeoutofline?OrwasIsotunedoutfromwhatIwantthatImissedthepartwherewefellinlove?DidIdismisshimwhenthat’swhathewastryingtotellme?
Wespentweekstogether.Traveling.Workingout.Eating.Hegavemehislastchickenwingandletmewarmmyfeetonhimwithoutcomplaint.
Theyweren’tloudproclamations.Buttheywerestillthere.AndImissedthem,whileignoringwhatIwasfeeling.
Ishakemyheadandcombmyfingersthroughmyhair,smoothingmyhandsdowntheprettymaroonpencilskirtI’mwearing.AllIhaveforclothesiswhatIretrievedfrommyhotelroomandwhatIleftatmydad’shouseinthecity.AllmyfavoritepiecesarestilloutatWishingWellRanch,alongwithagoodchunkofmyfavoritepeople.
Withadeepcenteringbreath,Iturnandleavethewashroom,stridingdowntomyofficeonsky-highheels,refusingtowalkaroundthisplacelikeI’vejustbeenfired.Iholdmychinhighandputmygamefaceon,lettingmyhipssway.
Imakethisstupidhallwaymyrunway.
UntilIglanceintotheboardroomandseeRhettEatonsittinginthesamechairImethimintwomonthsago.
MystepsfalterandIstoptostareathim.He’sleanedbackinhischair,onebootedfootcasuallyslungacrosshisknee.
He’sdevastatingwithhisruggedlines,wildhair,andhoneyedeyes.Fartoomasculinetobesittinginsuchapolishedspace.Heoverwhelmsit.
Heoverwhelmsme.
Mythroatachesjustlookingathim.Andwhenhiseyesslideovertomeetminethroughtheglass,mychestfeelslikeit’scrackingrightopen.
Iremembertookeenlythesightofhimmovingaboveme,theappreciationinhisgazewhenImodeledmychapsforhim,thewayhekissedmesotenderlyinaroomfullofpeople.
Ialsorememberhimcallingwhatwedid“sleepingtogetherforacoupleweeks.”Robsaidsomethingsimilartomewhenhebrokethingsoffwithmetobewithmysister,thatwewerejustsleepingtogethersoitshouldn’tmatter.Itstungthen,butitwasexcruciatingthistimearound
ButIthinkwhathurtthemostwasthewayhebrushedoffmyconcernforhim.Thathemademefeellikesomeoverbearingcrazypersonforcaringabouthim.
Andthat’senoughtospurmeintoaction.Iturnmyheadandcarryondownthehallway,resistingtheurgetorunandforcingmyselftoappearcalmandcollected.
Idonotfeelcalmandcollected.ButIwouldratherfuckingdiethanletRhettseehowdeeplyhewoundedme.
“Summer!”HeshovesthedooropenjustasIpass.Awhiffofhisscentchasesmelikeahauntingmemory.“Iwanttotalktoyou.”
“I’mgood,thanks,”Isaywithoutturningbacktohim.
“Please.Justfiveminutes.”Thepleadingnoteinhisvoicealmostmakesmestop.
Almost.
“Ithinkyou’vesaidenough,don’tyou?”Icheckmywatch,wonderinghowsoonIcangetthehelloutofhere,andthenIrememberIdon’tworkhereanymore,soitdoesn’tmatter.
“Ihaven’tsaidnearlyenough.”Icanfeelhimwalkingbehindme,thewarmsolidpresenceofhimloomingovermebutnotovertakingme.
“Youjustwalkedoutofameeting.Goback.”
“Thatmeetingdoesn’tmatter.”
Iscoffatthat,turningintomyoffice.Myoffice?Myoldoffice?
“You’rewhatmatters.”Hereachesformyarm,andIyankitback.
Turning,Igritmyteeth.Feeling…cornered.LikeIcouldattack.“Rhett.Get.Out.”
“Notafuckingchance,Princess.”Heshutsthedoorandleansagainstit,hishandscapturedbehindhisback.“IhavesomethingsIneedtosaytoyou,andyou’regoingtolisten.”
Iroundmydeskandtrytolookbored,liftingafileandopeningit.“Well,seeingashowyou’vetrappedmeinhere,IguessIdon’treallyhaveachoice.”
“No,Iguessyoudon’t.I’vebeentryingtocontactyouforaweek.”
“Mhm.”Istaredownatthefolder.Idon’tevenknowwhatI’mlookingatthough.Myentirebodyisattunedtohim.Truthfully,it’sallIcanfocuson.“Beenbusy.”
“Bullshit.You’reignoringme,andIdeservethat.”
Iblink,nothavingseenthatcoming.
“Listen,Summer.”Herakesahandthroughhishair,andmyfingerstinglewiththememoryofdoingitmyself.“I’msorry.I’msofuckingsorry.I’msorryIbetrayedyourtrust.BelievemewhenItellyouitkeepsmeupatnight.”
Myeyesflashuptocheck.Hedoeslooktired.
“IreplaythatinteractioninmyheadwhenIlieinbed,thinkingofallthewaysIcouldhavehandleditbetter.OfallthewaysIcouldhavedefendedyouwithouthurtingyou.”
Tearsspringupinmyeyes,becauseapparently,that’smynewthing.
Forthepastweek,Icryatthedropofahat.Afteryearsofseeingtheglassashalffull,I’mamopey,whimpery,half-emptymess.
“Shit.”Hegroans,andhisbodytensesashepushesbackagainstthedoor,likehe’sforcinghimselfawayfromme.“Pleasedon’tcry.Ifuckinghateitwhenyoucry.It’slikeabullettomychest.”
“Takenmanybullets,haveyou?”Myvoiceisweak,andIhatethat.
“No,”hehusks,“butIwould.Foryou,Iwould.”
Iwhimperquietlyatthat,tryingtocoveritupwitha,“Hmm.”
“IsaidalotofthingsIregret.Mostofall,whatIsaidaboutourtimetogether.Icanblamespillingyourprivatebusinessoncomingtoyourdefenseinmyowncarelessway.Becauseyoumaynotknowyourworthyet,butIdo.AndI’llhappilypunchanyoneinthefacewhomakesyouquestionit.ButtellingyouwhatIdidatthehospitalthatnight,Isaidthattohurtyou.”
“Well,itworked.”
Hewincesbutcarrieson.“I’llneverforgivemyselfforit.”
Andthenwe’rebacktolikewewere.Suspendedintime.Staringateachotherlikewemightfindtheanswerstoourproblemswrittenontheotherperson’sface.
“Tellmewhattodo,Summer.Tellme,andI’lldoit.WasIunclearbefore?BecauseIwanttobecrystalclearnow.Iloveyou.IlovedyouthemomentyouwalkedintothatboardroomandsmirkedatmelikeyouknewsomethingIdidn’t.Itbotheredme,andIcouldn’tstopthinkingaboutit.Wantingtoknowwhatyouknow.Ifixatedonit,butIthinkIwasjustfixatedonyou.”
Iprocesshiswords,soakingtheminlikeacatsoaksupthesun.Hischeeksflush,andhisfeetshiftnervously.ThisisalotoffeelingtalkforsomeonelikeRhettEaton.
“AndIstillam.Ialwayswillbe.Thisthingbetweenus?Forme?It’severything.It’sit.You’reit.I’vespentyearsthinkingIdidn’thavesomeonewhoreallysupportedme.ButthatwasonlybecauseIhadn’tmetyouyet.Youwereoutthere,wantingme.Andallittookwasonemeetingwithyouformetowantyoutoo.AfewweeksformetoknowthatI’ddoanythingtosupportyoutoo.”Heshakeshisheadandpeersoutthewindow.“Youwereouttherethiswholetime,andnowIknowyouexist,andIcannevergoback.Wouldn’twanttoifIcould.”
Mytearsarehotonmycheeks.Hisgazebackonme,trackingthemastheyspill.
“So,takeyourtime.Dowhatyouneedto.Carryonwiththecoldshoulder,hateme,makeavoodoodollandneedlethehelloutofit.Idon’tfuckingcare.I’lltakeitall.JustthinkaboutwhatI’mtellingyou.Thinkaboutbeingeverythingwithme.I’llkeepcomingback,nomatterwhat.You’remypriority.I’llkeeptryingbecauseI’mnotquittingonyou.Ever.”
Idon’tknowwhenthetearsspilleddownovermycheeks,buttwostraightstreamsofthemsilentlyflowasIwatchthismanpourhisheartouttome.
“HaveImademyselfclear?”
Inod.Struckdumb.Feelingincrediblyfragile.
HenodsbackandturnstoleavebutstopswhenIspeak.“Howareyourribs?”
Helooksoverhisshoulder.“Fine.They’refine,Summer.”
Ibiteatmybottomlip,feelingalittleawkwardaboutmyresponsetoRhettdeclaringhisloveforme.“AreyougoingtoVegas?”
Hesighsanddropshiseyes.“Yeah.”
Inodagain,unsurewhattosaytothat.HesaysI’mhispriority,butridingwhenheknowsit’saskingfortrouble,whenheknowsitmakesmefrantic,whenheknowsI’llbeleftinaworldwithouthimifthingsgowrong…
Thatstillfeelslikethebullsandthebucklearehispriority.32Summer
Summer:Wannagoforbrunch?
Willa:It’sFridaymorning.Aren’twebothworking?
Summer:Igotfired.
Willa:That’sveryunlikeyou!Whendidthishappen?
Summer:Aweekago.
Willa:Waytokeepmeintheloop.Bythehotcowboy?
Summer:No.Bymydad.
Willa:Well,shit.TheLark.10:30.I’llgetthemimosasstarted.
***
IwalkintomineandWilla’sfavoritebrunchlocationandspothermaneofredhair,pokerstraightaroundhershoulders,fromthefrontdoor.Twomimosassitinfrontofher…andtwomoreparkedacrossthetable.
Iguessit’sgoingtobeoneofthosemornings.ThekindIneedaftermopingaroundallweek.
“Hey!You’rehere!”Mybestfriendshootsoutofherchairandwrapsmeinherarms.Willagivesthebesthugs.She’smuchtallerthanme,whichputsmyheadataboutchestheight.
So,IdowhatI’vebeendoingsincewewereteenagers.It’sasecrethandshakeatthispoint.Idropmyheadandjokinglymotorboatherboobs.“Imissedyou,”Isay,mostlytohertits.
Webothlaugh.“That’swhattheyallsay.”Sherufflesmyhair,andwestepapart,smilingateachother.Sometimes,I’msofocusedonfeelinglikeIdon’thaveanyfamilythatIforgetaboutWilla.Shemightaswellbemyfamily.
“Iwaswonderingwhyyou’vebeenradiosilent,”shetellsmeasshemakesherwaybacktoherseatandspreadsanapkinacrossherlap.“Justfiguredyouwereworkingouttheatomicbombthatgotdroppedatthehospital.Orpossiblyjustsavinghorsesleftandright.Toobusyridingcowboypoletotalktome.”
Irollmyeyes,doingthesame.“No.I’vebeenmoping.”
“BecauseDaddyHamiltonfiredyou?”
“Canwenotcallhimthat?”Ireachforamimosaandtakeagulp.
Willawaggleshereyebrowsatme.Shealwaysjokesaboutlikingmydad.Idon’tactuallyknowhowmuchshe’sjoking,though,becauseshe’sconstantlycheckingoutoldermen.
“So,hefiredyou.Why?”
Idrinkagain.“BecausehesaysIdon’tloveworkingtherelikeIshould.”
Shesnorts.“Noshit.Gladheslappedsomesenseintoyou.”
“Now,IhavetofigureoutwhatIwanttodowithmylife.Whichisahardquestiontoanswer.Basically,I’vespentthepastweekinsweatpantsmullingoverthefactthatallI’veeverdoneiswhatIthoughtotherpeoplewantedmetodo.IhavenoideawhatIactuallywant.”
“Well,asthetwenty-five-year-oldwhoworksatherbrother’sbarfulltimewithnootherprospectstospeakof,I’lldrinktothat.”
“Well,you’reamanager,doingofficeworkduringtheday.It’snotjustbartending.”
Herheadquirks,greeneyesappraisingmewithasmirk.“AmI?OramIgettingmorningdrunkwithmybestie?”
Weclinkourglassesandpolishoffourfirstmimosa,immediatelyreachingforthesecond.
“So,doyouhaveanyideas?”Willaasks.
“No,”Isayalittletooquickly.
“Okay,ifyoudon’twanttotalkaboutthat,canwetalkaboutthehottieintheWranglers?”
“Ugh.”Iflopagainstthehighbackoftheupholsteredwingchair.Thisrestaurantiseclectictosaytheleast.Mismatchedchairsateachtable.Antiquechandeliersthroughout.Floralwallpapermeetsstripedwallpaper,meetspolkadotwallpaper.ItmakesmefeellikeI’mhavingateapartyattheMadHatter’splace.Exceptwithmimosas.“We’re…Idon’tknowwhatweare.HemarchedintomyofficethedayIgotfired.”
Drink.
“Becauseyouwereignoringallhiscallsandtexts?”
“Yeah.”
Drink.
“Whatdidhesay?”
Drink.Iswipemyfingersacrossmylipsandglanceoutthebigwindowsatthesunnydowntownstreet,thinkingofhowitfelttohaveRhetttouchmylips.
“Thathelovesme.”
“Well,shit.”Willaflopsbackinherchairtoo.“Whatdidyousaytothat?”
Iworrymybottomlipbetweenmyteeth.“Iaskedhimhowhisribsfelt.Ididn’tknowwhattosay.Ihadreallyduginonbeingangrywithhim,soittookmebysurprise.HesaidIwashispriority.Thathewasalwaysgoingtokeepcomingback.”
Willasighswistfully.“Sofuckingromantic.”
“Sure,andthenhetoldmehewasstillgoingtorideinthefinals,andIdon’tknowwhattomakeofthat.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Drink.Sigh.Lookbackatmybestfriend.“Imean,Idon’twanttobethegirlwhotellssomeonetostopdoingsomethingtheylove.Everyonetellshimtostop.Doyouknowhisfamilydoesn’tevencometowatchhimwhentheeventsareclose?He’stherealone.AndIhatethatforhim.”
Isighagain,thinkingabouthowmuchthatbothersme.Allhisclosefamily,butstillsoalone.
“Betweenhisshoulderandhisribinjuries,he’sinjuredenoughthathewon’tbeabletoridelikehenormallydoes.Notsafely.Iknowit.Heknowsit.Heknowsitcouldendpoorly—sodamnpoorly.”Irecreepsintomyvoice.“Andhe’sgoingtogooutthereanddoitanyway.He’llleavemeintheaftermathifsomethingterriblehappens.I’vealreadypickedupthepiecesofsomuchheavyshitinmylife.I’mnotsureIwanttosignupforcaringaboutsomeonemorethantheycareaboutthemselves.”
Myfriendsipselegantlywhilehummingthoughtfully.Icanseethewheelsturninginherheadasshemullsovermyrant.“Maybehedoesn’tknowwhatmakingyouaprioritylookslikebecausenoonehasevermadehimapriority.”
Mymouthopens,butnosoundcomesout.Icloseitagain,turningthatthoughtaroundinmymind.KipmadesureIalwaysknewIwashispriority,nomatterwhatelsewasgoingoninourlives.Winter,too.
ButRhett…hekindofgotlostintheshuffleoflifeandtragedyandstrugglingtogetby.Doeshetrulynotknowwhatitfeelsliketobesomeone’spriority?
“IseeI’vestruckyoudumb.ThankyouforcomingtomyTEDTalk.Nowtellme,doyoulovethisman?”
Myheartrateratchetsup,andIswearIcanfeelthebloodpumpingthroughmyveins.I’veonlyconfessedthistomyself.Inmyhead.Sayingitoutloudmakesitfeelastonishinglyreal.
Butmaybethat’swhatRhettneedsfromme.
Ipullthemimosauptomylips,throwahandovermyeyes,andmutter,“Yeah,”beforechasingbacktherestofthedrink.Theyreallydoservetheminsmallglasses.
AndthenIsitwithmyhandovermyface,tryingtofigureoutwhatthatmeans.IhearWillacallouttoaserverthatwe’llhaveanotherround.
“Issheokay?”TheguysoundsskepticalbecauseIprobablylookhammered.I’mnot,buttwomimosasonanemptystomachisn’tagreatrecipeforsobrietyeither.
“Her?Oh,nah.She’samess.Gettheladyadrink.”
Theguychuckles,andIhearhimdepartasIcontinuetohideunderthecoverofmypalm.
Ismile,openingmyeyestotellWillathatIdon’tthinkIneedanotherround,butshe’sgotherheadtippeddownstaringatherphone,thumbsswipingfuriouslyacrossthescreen.
“Whoareyoutexting?”
“Noone.I’mbookingusflights.”
Isnort.She’salwaysmakingshitlikethisuptothrowmeoff.“Oh,yeah?Praytell,bestie.Wherearewegoing?Mexico?Ooh.AweekendinParis?WecandrinkwinebytheEiffelTower.”
“Youhaveexpensivetasteforanunemployedperson.”
“Pleasedon’tremindmeofthat.”
“We’regoingtoVegas.”
Ileanforwardandplacemyglassonthetableinfrontofme.“Pardonme?”
“Don’tplaydumb.It’sunbecoming.Youheardme.”Shedoesn’tevenglanceupatme.
“When?”
Aslowfelinesmilestretchesacrossherlips.Shelooksfartoosatisfiedwithherself,somethingthatimmediatelysetsoffalarmbellsinmyhead.
“Inafewhours.We’llgetthereintimetograbdinnerandhittherodeo.MaybeI’llrideacowboytonighttoo.”Shewinks,andIstareslack-jawedather.
“You’renotevenkidding,areyou?”
“WhywouldIkidaboutthis?”Herbrowsfurrow.
“You’reinsane.”
Willalaughslightly,runningafingerovertherimofherchampagneglass.“Somepeoplewouldsaythat’saredheadthing.”
“Idon’tknowifthisisagoodidea.”
Theserverdropsourdrinksoffandeyesme,probablycheckingtoseeifI’mswayinginmyseatorsomething.
“It’sagreatidea.Itwillbefun.Andyou’llgetyourPrinceCharming.You’rewelcome.”
SilencestretchesbetweenusasIstareherdown.ThethingaboutWillaisthatshecan’tbestareddown.Notreally.She’stooballsy.Shejuststaresback,archingoneshapelybrow.
“Ifthiswe’reyourlastmomentonearth,wouldyou—”
Iholdupahandtostopher,shakingmyhead.“Ireallywishpeoplewouldstopusingthatsayingagainstme.”Iletoutaraggedsighanddrink.BecausetodayI’mgoingtoVegas.Becauseinmylastmoments,I’dwanttobewithRhett
I’dwanthimtoknowIlovehimtoo.Everystupid,impulsive,brokenboneinhisbody.33Rhett
Summer:Goodlucktonight.
Rhett:Iloveyou.
***
TheguyschatteraroundmeasItapemyhands.ItrytotunethemoutsoIcanslipintothatzonewhereeverythingfallsaway,andthejobIcameheretodotonightistheonlythingIsee.
ExcepttheonlythingIseeisabeautifulgirlwithfrecklesoverthebridgeofhernose,widedoeeyesthatlookatmelikeI’mworthknowing,andasharptonguethatmakesmelaugh.
ThepasttwoweeksI’vespentplayingeverythingbetweenusoutinmyhead.Thecaresheputintohealingme,theenergysheputintoplanningfavorableinterviewsforme,thewayshewhistlesinthecrowdforme.Ifindherthereeverytime,andthere’satwingeofregretinmychestknowingshewon’tbeheretonight.
Igotatasteofwhatitfeelsliketohavesomeoneshowupforyou,andnowI’mgreedyforit.Itonlytooktwomonthsofspendingeverywakingmomentwithoneotherpersonorthinkingaboutthatotherpersontoslipintoaplacewhereitfeelslikeshebelongswithme.
AndIbelongwithher.
It’sthemostinsane,inexplicablethingthat’severhappenedtome.Whichissayingsomething,consideringalltheshitI’vedone.
“Ready?”Theoclapsdownonmyshoulder,andIwince.Theribsaren’tasbadastheywere.Buttheyaren’tgreateither—notbyalongshot.There’sreallynotanycompensatingforthem,becausemyshoulderisstillfucked,too.Thetourdoctorshavepiecedmetogetherasbesttheycan.Andatleasttheydidn’tridemyassaboutnotgettingontonight.“You’renotgoingtoletEmmettwin,right?”
Aflickerofdoubtflashesinmymind.Ipushitaway.“Notachance.”
Ipulledagoodbull.Ameanbull.Abullthatmakesorbreaksthemenwhotakehimforaspin.Ihavethebenefitofridinglast,whichmeansI’llknowhowhardIneedtogotogetthatbuckle.
ThebuckleIalreadyhavetwoof.
Ihaven’tbeenabletoshakemybrother’swords.Howmuchisenough?That’sthequestionI’vetossedaroundforweeks.TurningitoverinmymindfromeveryperspectivetoseeifIcananswerit.
ButIcan’t.
Idon’tknowwhenitwillbeenough.AllIknowisthatIstillfeelincompletesomehow.LikeI’mnotdonejustyet—likeI’mstilllookingforsomething.
“I’mupfirst.”Theogrins.“Ballstothewall.Right,Boss?”
Ismile,butitfeelsforced.Beforethatnighthegotknockedout,Ineverfeltnervousforhim.I’veconvincedhimheneedstobewearingahelmet.Thatthebucklebunnieswillstillwanthimifhewearsahelmetbecausetheypreferthewalking,talkingversionofhimtothevegetableversionofhim.
Inod.“Youknowit,kid.Hit‘emwiththespurs.”
Weclaphandsinafirmshakeandgiveeachotherasmackontheshoulder.Which,forme,reallyfuckinghurts.Heturnsandleavestheroom,headingdownthetunneltowardthering.
Normally,I’dheadouttowatchhim,butI’mnotintherightheadspace,andIknowit.Idon’tneedtowatchotherguysgetchucked.Ineedtofocusonmyselfrightnow.Mentalwallsup.
Iwatchthemleaveonebyone,andmostlystayhunchedover,elbowsproppedonmyknees,handsdanglingbetweenthem.Mybootsareworn,brokenin,probablyontheirlastlegs.We’rekindredspirits,mybootsandme.Iletmyeyeswanderoverthesponsorpatchesonmyvest,takingeachonein.I’vewornthemwithsuchpride,buttodayIcan’thelpbutwonderifriskingmylifetokeepthemisworthit.It’sathoughtthathasgenuinelynevercrossedmymindbefore.
Ipushitaway.
Thedooropensandthesoundsfromtheshowoutsidefilterintotheroom.Thebuzzofthecrowd.Thepoppingnoisesofthefireworks.Theboomoftheannouncer’svoice.Allsofamiliar,likethesoundtracktomylife.
“You’reup,Eaton.”Theogrinsatmefromthedoor.
“Whyareyousmilinglikeaserialkiller?”
Hesmilesevenbigger.Heremindsmeofhisdad.Thisplaceremindsmeofhisdad.Thatyearweallwatchedhimfall.Ashiverracesdownmyspine.
“Emmettdidn’tbeatmyscore.It’syouandme,oldman.”
Onesideofmycheekpullsup,andItakeinhisexcitementandenthusiasm.IthinkIusedtobethatwaytoo.Now,I’mgoingthroughthemotions.
“Proudofyou.”Islaphimonthebackonmywaypastandwalkdownthedarkenedtunneltotheglitzandglamofthering.Thereareevencheerleadersatthisevent.It’sallaVegasshow.
Idon’tdomystretchesbecauseIdon’tthinktheymattertonight.Everythingistightandpainful.
ThreestepsupandI’matthestagingarea,pullingmyhelmeton,watchingmybull,FilthyMcNasty—afittingfuckingname—trotaggressivelydownthechute.Hesnortsandshakeshishead,tailflickingagainsthissidelikeawhip.Agitated.
Andforthefirsttimeinmyeleven-yearprocareer,Ifeelit.
Fear.
IpushitasideasIclimbupontothefenceandstaredownatthebull’sbroad,muscledback.Twothousandpoundsofpuremuscle.Herattlesthepanelsashecrashesaround.
“Hoponwhenyou’reready,”onecoachsays,givingmeathumbsup.
Athumbsup.
Thismomentdoesn’tfeellikeathumbsupsituation.ItfeelslikeI’mabouttospendeightsecondsinexcruciatingpain.
Inodandclimbdownontothebull,pushingitallaway,tryingtofindthatquiet—thatcalm.Irunmyhandoverthebullrope,lettingthebumpsvibratethroughmyhandwhilewatchingtherepetitionofthemotion,tryingtogetlostinit.
Butthenoisefromthecrowdpicksup,andwhenIlookupatthejumbotron,IseethefootageofmeleapingontopofanunconsciousTheoplaying.Ihaven’twatchedityet,hadn’teverplannedto.
Iwatchthebullhitme,tossingmeintotheairbeforeturningbackonaclownandleavingthering.Ilandonmybadshoulder,andyouseemerolloverontomyknees,cuppingmyside.
Itcouldhavebeensomuchworse.
Thatflickeroffearsparksatthebackofmymindagain.Mystomachlurches.
IthinkaboutSummer.Goodluck.
Shakingmyhead,Igazebackdownandpushmygloveintotherope,tighteningituntilit’sjustright.
Butit’snotright.
Asharpwhistlepullsmyeyeuptothestands.BeforeSummer,Iwasoblivioustothecrowd,nowIfeellikeIhavearadarforher.Andsomeassholewhowhistlesthesamewayiskillingmyconcentration.
Myeyecatchesonaflashofwhite,andtheworldaroundmegoesfuzzy.
Summer’shere.
She’swearingawhitelinendressandsticksoutlikeasorefuckingthumb.
Mysorefuckingthumb.
Iblink.Iblinkagain.Likeshemightnotbereal.Whywouldshecomeallthewayheretowatchmedosomethingsheclearlydoesn’tthinkIshoulddo?
Kiptoldmehefiredher,soIknowit’snotwork.
Istareather,andIthinkshestaresback.Acrossthedirtring.Acrossthecrowd.Welockeyesandgetlostineachother.
Sheoffersmeasmallthumbsup,onethatmakesmychestacheatthememoryofbeingontheroadwithher.AllIcandoisstareback.I’malwaysfuckingstaringather.
Iwanttospendtherestofmylifestaringather.
Thenshemouths,Iloveyou
Myjawclampsdownandsomethingsnapsinsideme.Thatfearhitsmelikeatidalwave,andIyankmyhandout,reachingforthefencingtopullmyselfup.
Thefame.Thebuckle.Noneofitmatters.Notonebit.AllIwantistohearthosewordsfromherlips.
Idon’twanttospendmylastmomentsonabull.Iwanttospendthemhearingherwhisperthatinmyear.
AndthenI’moff,swingingalegoverthefence.
“Eaton!Whatyoudoing?”oneofthecoachescallsouttomeasIdropontothelandingandtossmyhelmet,reachingformyfavoritebrownhatinstead.
“I’mdone.”
“You’rewhat?”Theguylooksgenuinelyfuckingconfused.
“Considerthismyretirementnotice.I’mout.Thatbullgetsanightoff.”
AndTheowinshisfirstworldtitle.
AndIlivetobreatheanotherday.Thatpartisprettyimportanttoo.
Istridethroughthestagingarea,headingstraightforthedoorthatleadsouttothestands.It’sallaguessbecauseIonlyhaveageneralideaofwhereSummerisseated.
ButItoldherI’dkeepcomingbackforher.ThatI’dneverstop.Andthat’swhatI’mgoingtodo.
Iturnupaflightofstairsandenduponthebusymezzanine,tryingtodecidebetweensection116and115.Ichoose116,andshootupthosestairs,ignoringthestitchinmyribsasIdo.Ihavetunnelvision,andI’veovershotthesectionbyone.
ButIdon’tcare.Ratherthangoingbackdown,Iturndownoneoftheaisles.IseeSummerstanding,palmspressedagainsthercheeks,facewhiteasasheet.Eyesbrimmingwithwetness.
Ididthat.Iwanttonevermakehercryagain.
“Pardonme.Excuseme.”Ismileandpushmywaydownaspeoplestandtoletmepass.
“CanIgrabanautograph?”someoneasks.
“Inaminute.Needtodosomethingfirst.”
Murmursfollowmeacrosstheentiresection,andthenI’matSummer’saisleseat.Herbackisturnedtome,stillfacingdownatthebullchute,standingonhertippytoestryingtoseebacktothestagingarea.NotacluethatI’mnotbackthereanymoreatall.
I’lldefinitelygodowninthisleagueforthemostdramaticretirement,somaybethat’ssomething.
AndthenIcan’tstopmyself.I’mreachingforher.Sighingwhenmyhandswraparoundherupperarms.It’slikealltheanxietythatwascoilinginsidemejustebbsaway.
LikeIfoundwhatIwaslookingfor—whoIwaslookingfor.
Shespinsonme,bigbrowndoeeyesandperfectpuffylips.“Whatareyoudoing?”shebreathes,handsfallinginstantlytomychestasthoughshe’scheckingtoseeifI’mreal.
“Icouldaskyouthesamething,Princess.”
“Fuckmylife,hecallsyouprincess,too?Ugh.Unfair.”Alankyredheadstandingbehindhercrossesherarmsandrollshereyes.Butshe’sgotaplayfulexpressiononherface.Ilikeherinstantly.
Summerignoresher,gettingsolostinmyeyesthatshealmostlookslikeshe’ssomewhereelseforamoment.“Ijust…Ihadtobehere.Icouldn’tstandthethoughtofyoubeingherealone.You’re…”Hervoicecracksandtearswellinhereyes.“You’reitformetoo.”
AstraytearstreaksdownonecheekandIswipeitawaybeforegentlycombingherhairbackbehindherearandcuppingherheadinmypalm.“Pleasedon’tcry.Itkillsmewhenyoucry.”Ipullherclose,pressinghertomychest.
Anditfeelssofuckingright.Herarmssnakearoundmegently,fingerstrailingcarefullyoverthesoresideofmyribs.Alwaysthinkingaboutme.
JustlikeI’malwaysthinkingabouther.Ittookmeawhiletopiecetogetherwhy,whatitmeans,andhowIproveittoher.
MaybeIamjustasdumbasCadesays.
“Youneedtogobackdownthereandrideyourbull.Thisisyourchampionshiptowin.”Shesnifflesagainstmychest.
Icanhearsurroundingchatterandtheannouncer’svoice,butIdon’tmakeanythingout.Thewomaninfrontofmeisthecenterofmyattention.Thecenterofmyuniverse.
AwrysmiletouchesmylipsandItipherheaduptolookatme.Shefeelssmallandfragileinmyarms,andIdon’tmissthewayshetrembleswhenIbrushmythumboverherlips.“Sayit.Iwanttohearit.”
Herlashesflutter,clumpedtogetherwiththewetnessofhertears.Andthenshetakesthatdeepdiveintomyeyesagain.MychesttwistsandIpullherclosersoourbodieswedgetogether.
Idon’tgiveafuckwho’swatching.
“Iloveyou,”shesays,hervoicesoftbutsure.
IgazedownatherandwonderwhatthehellIdidtogetthisfuckinglucky.“Iloveyoutoo.AndIdon’tneedtoridetonight.Oreveragain.Hearingthatfromyourlipsisthebiggestwinofmylife.”
Itakemyhat,andIplunkitonherhead.JustlikeItoldmyselfIwould.
AndthenIkissher.
Firstsoftandsearching,beforeshegripsatmyshirtandturnsthingsalittledesperate.Shemoansandslipshertongueintomymouth.Myeagergirlisalwaysthefirsttodothat.
It’sthebestkissofmylife.It’sthebestmomentofmylife.BecauseIfoundthepiecethatwasmissing.IhavenoideawhatI’mgoingtodowiththerestofmylife,butIknowI’mgoingtodoitwithSummer.I’mgoingtokeepcomingback,keepprovingtoherwe’rebettertogether.
So,westandherekissing.Withcamerasrolling.Inthemiddleofahugecrowd.Nodoubtraisingsomeeyebrows.Makingastatementandnotgivingaflyingfuckwhoseesus.
Choosingeachother.Findingeachother.Showingupforeachother.
Andeverythingaboutthemomentisflawless.EpilogueRhettOneYearlater…
IturnintothedrivewayatWishingWellRanchandtakeadeepbreath.
Fuckitfeelsgoodtobehome.It’sbeentwoweeksontheroad.WhichisaboutfourteendayslongerthanIwanttobeawayfromSummer.
ButI’mhappy.I’mfulfilled.I’vegotitall.Myhealth.AjobcoachingontheWBRFcircuit.Andthegirlofmyfuckingdreamswaitingformeacoupleminutesdownthisgravelroad.
Shebetterbenaked.Nakedandready.Icanfeelmyselfswellinmyjeansattheprospect.AtthethoughtofourvideochatswhileI’vebeenaway.
Usually,thisgigonlytakesmeawayforafewdaysatatime.IflyinandIflyout,butIgaveaclinicbetweenweekendeventsthistimetoabunchofyoungup-and-comers.Itwasfun.
ButImissmygirlsomethingfierce.
Theroadwindspastthemainhouseandthenmergeswithanewerportion.Ourportion.Attheendofthisdrivewayisourhouse.AndIdon’tthinkI’llevergettiredofreferringtoitthatway.
TheonlythingmoresatisfyingwouldbebeingabletocallSummermywife
“Mm,”Ihumandslapmyhandagainstthesteeringwheelofmynewtruck.TheoneSummermademebuybecauseit’s“safer.”AndbecausetheoldonekeptbreakingdownbecauseIneverfoundthetimetodoanyworkonit.
ButIthinkthenewtruckisworthitifonlybecauseitmeansthatwhenIpulluptothenewlyconstructedbungalowtoseemygirlsittingonthefrontstepsnextto…
Myoldtruck.
Butnotmyoldtruck.Becausetheoneshe’ssittingnexttoispaintedtheprettiestblue.Asteelyblue.
Theblueofmymom’seyesinmyfavoritepictureofher.
Thesightofitwindsme.ThegirlIwishmymomcouldhavemet.Sittingnexttoatruckthatnowremindsmeofher—thatsheboughtforsomeonesheloved.
Inthestrangestway,itseemslikesomuchmorethanaprettygirlsittingnexttoaprettytruck.
Pullingup,Iparkbesideitandstepoutonwobblylegs.JawhangingasIstareatthevehiclebesideme.Thebridgeofmynosefeelsawfullytingly,andmyvisionisonlyslightlyblurredwhenSummerwalksaroundthefrontofit,smallhandtrailingacrossthehood.Simplewhitetanktopandcut-offjeansmakingherlookeffortlesslysexy.Thebestthingshe’swearingthoughisthesoftlookinhereyesandthetentativesmileonherlips.
“DidIdookay?”
MylipspresstogetherasItrytosuckinacenteringbreath.Mygazebouncesbetweenherandthetruck.“Okay?Summerthisis…howdidyoupullthisoff?Isthiseventhesametruck?Doesitrun?”
Shetreadscloser,barefeetonthefreshlypaveddriveway.AndbeforeIknowit,she’swedgedherselfunderneathmyarm,handslunginthebackpocketofmyWranglersaswestandtherehiptohipstaringatmynewtruck.
Shelaughsquietlyandjuststaresforamoment.“Yes,it’sthesametruck.Everytimeyou’vebeenawaythisseason,I’vetakenitintotheshoptohavethemworkonit.”Achokedlaughbubblesupinmychestandshetiltsherheadagainstme,paintingherselfflushagainstmyside.“Ihatedyoubeinggonefortwoweeks,butitwastheperfectopportunityfortheguystofinishitup.”
“Wow.”She’sstruckmenearlyspeechless.Thiswassofardownmyto-dolistthatIdidn’tevenseeitcoming.IknewIwantedit.Oneday.Afterthehousewasfinished,andtherewereacoupleadorablelittleSummerclonesrunningaroundtheyard.
“Isthecolorright?Ispentalotoftimelookingatpicturesofher.Tryingtofindjusttherightshade.”
IwishIcouldsaysomethingtothat,butI’mtoochokedup.So,Ijustfoldherintoahug,takeadeepinhaleofthescentonherskin—cherries,alwayscherries—andwhisperintothecrookofherneck,“It’sperfect,Princess.Andsoareyou.”
***
Lifehasneverbeenbetter.
Work.Family.House.Truck.
ThefactthatSummerisontopofme.Ridingme.Hipsswiveling,headtiltedback,daintyhandsmassagingherbreasts,sportingalightsheenofsweatalloverhergoldenskin.Herlipsareslightlyparted,andthat’swheremyeyessnag.Puffyandpinkandmakingthemostdeliciousfuckingwhiningnoises.
Shelookslikeafuckinggoddessintheharshafternoonlight.
I’veneverlovedhermore.
“Didyoumissme,Princess?”Iask,grippingherhipsjustabovewherethoselittlecreasesform.
Shestaresdownatme,eyesbrimmingwithdesire,cheeksrosy,hairinthemessiestofbuns.Irememberthefirstdaywemet.Herbunwassotightthatitlookedborderlinepainfulasshesatacrossfrommeinthatboardroom.
Butthatwasayearago.Andmygirlhaschangedalotsincethen.She’sallundonerightnow—justthewayIlikeher.Undoneandridingmycock.
“Yes,somuch.I’mcomingnexttime.”
IthinkIlovehermorewitheachpassingmoment.
AdeeprumbleinmychestsoundsasIreachtorubatherclit.“You’reabusinessownernow.Can’tgofollowingyourboyfriendaroundthecountry.”
Shestopsnow,glaringdownatme.“Don’ttellmewhatIcanandcan’tdo.”
Iespeciallyloveherwhenshegivesmeattitude.
Ithrustupwithasmirk.“Rideharder.”Irubmorefirmlyatherclit,knowingshewon’tbeabletoresistmovingagainifIdo.
IsmilewhenI’mright.Shemovesagainwithaplayfullittleshakeofherhead.“Suchagoodgirl,Summer.Rideit.”
Shemoans,eyesflutteringshut.“I’mcomingnexttime.”
“Baby,you’recomingafewsecondsfromnow.Let’sseethosetitsbounce.Goharder.Takeitall.”
“Fuck,”shebreathesasherheadtipsback,thesuncatchingherhairandmakingitshimmer.Iletmyhandtrailupherbody,herwaist,thelightlineinherabdomenfromspendingherdaysworkingout.
Istopwhenmypalmrestsonthescaroverherchest.Andnow,thelookshegivesmeissoft,fullofloveandtenderness.Ispenttwoweeksontheroadandshe’sactinglikeIwasgoneformonthsonend.
“Ihatedbeingawayfromyou,”Iconfess,lovingthewayherlipstipupwhenIsayshitlikethat.“ButIloveyou.AndIlovewatchingyoucomeonmycock.Letmewatch.Letmeseeit.Letmehearit.”
Shebitesdownonherpuffybottomlip,andIalmostexplodeonthespot.Whenshenods,Idoublemyefforts,thrustinguptomeether,circlingmoretightlyonherclit.Herwetheatclenchesonme.
Andthenshe’scryingout,“Rhett!”withherheadtippedback,lashesflutteringshut,lookinglikeagoddamnangel.It’sstillthebestsoundintheworld.AndIfollow,handstillonherheart,shootingupintoher,whileshefallsforwardontomemurmuring,“Iloveyou.”
“Sofuckinggood,”Imurmurback,feelinglikeIshouldpinchmyself.LikeIhavenoideahowIstumbledintohavingawomanlikeSummerchooseamanlikeme.
Butthat’sjustit.We’rehere,choosingeachothereverydamnday.AndIwanttochooseherfortherestofmylife.
I’dhavemarriedherthatdayinthestandswhenIretired.Rightthere.Onthefuckingspot.ButI’mgreedylikethat,andIknowsheneededtimetosortherlifeout.Hell,Ineededtimetosortmylifeout.
Hersisterstillwon’ttalktoher.Andthat’sawoundIsodesperatelywishIcouldfixforher.ButIcan’t.Notyetanyway.Andherstepmomisluckyshedoesn’tcomearoundbecauseI’dhavemorethanafewwordsforsomeonewho’sascrueltomygirlasMarinaistoSummer.Butsheandherdadarecloserthanever.Andeveryoneinmyfamily—hell,myentiretown—loveshertopieces.
She’sbecomethegoldengirlofChestnutSpringssincebuyingoutthelocalgymandtransformingitintoHamiltonAthletics.Theplacegearedtowardtrainingathletes.OrtorturinggrownmenasIliketocallit.
It’sgoodforoursmalleconomy.Andtheladiesfromtownloveit.Theysaythey’regoingforaPilatesclass,butreallyjustsitaroundandstareatthehockeyplayersandbullriderswhotrainthereduringtheiroff-seasons.
Summerflopsforwardandkissesme,warmanddampandsmellinglikecherries,fingerstanglinginmyhair.“IsaidIloveyou.”
“Iloveyoutoo,Princess.YouknowIdo.”Ifeelhersmileagainsttheskinofmychestbeforesherollsoffmewithasatisfiedsigh.
Ipressakisstothescaronherchestandgetuptogetawarmcloth.
Overthesoundoftherunningwater,Ihearhervoice.“Howmuch?”
ChucklingasIwalkoutofthebathroom,Icatchsightofher,andtheairinmylungsstills.She’sheart-stopping,sprawledonourking-sizedmattress.Rightnow,it’sjustamattressonthefloor.Theunfinishedfloor.Andshe’ssurroundedbydrywallthatneedspainting.
Ourexpansiverancherisdefinitelynotcompleteyet,butwecouldn’twaittomovein.Iwassickofherlivinginthestudioloftabovehergym.Webuiltonourfavoritehookupspot.Thespotwherewe’ddrive“therustbucket”—asmytruckhasbecomelovinglyknown—tossablanketinthebackandmakeloveunderthestars.Thisspothasthebestviewofthemountains—andthat’swhatSummerwanted.
AndIwantherwithmeallthetime.It’sfuckingconsuming.Butshe’smyfavoritehumanintheworld.Afteracertainamountoftimetogether,otherpeopleusuallygetonmynerves.
ButnotSummer.She’smyperson.AndI’mhers.Twohalvesofthesamewhole
“Tellme.Tellmehowmuchyouloveme.”Herlipstipupandhereyesdance
“Woman,I’mwipingyouwithahotwashclothaftersex.That’showmuchIloveyou.”
“Tellmemore.”
Icrouchdownbesideherandgettowiping,mindracingasIdo,dickfillingagainbeingthisclosetoherpussy.
Ifeelhereyesonme.She’swaitingformetosaymore.
Islideherlacythongbackupherlegs,becauseshelooksfuckingfantasticinexpensivelingerie.“Turnover.I’llshowyou.”
Herlipstwist,questionsdancinginhereyes,butsherelentswithasigh,showingmeherbeautifulroundass.
Ican’thelpbutpopaniceloudsmackonitbeforewalkingbackacrosstheroomtochucktheclothinthehamper,pullonapairofsweats,andreachforthebagIdroppedinthebedroombeforelosingallmyclotheswithher.Swipingapen,Iwalkbackovertoher,catchingthecuriousglanceshegivesmeoverhershoulder.
“Okay.Payverycloseattention,Princess.”
Shegigglesandnodsherhead.“Okay.”
Istraddleher,andit’saterribleidea,becauseallIcanthinkaboutisslidingmydickbetweenherlegs.ButIfocus,uncappingthepen.
AndthenIstartwriting.ConnectingthedotsonherbackthewayIoftendowiththepadofmyfingerwhenwelaytogether.Herbackislikethenightsky,fullofconstellations.SheandIreallyarebinarystars,stuckineachother’sorbit,drawntogetherbyforceswecan’tseeorunderstand—butthatwecanfeel.
WhatI’mwritingtodayisfourwords.AndIswearIcanalmosthearherthinking,herbodyjustalittlebittense,herheadcantedasshetriestodecipherit.
“There,”Isay,rightasIfinish.
“Rhett?”Sheturnstoglanceoverhershouldernow,buthereyesarelessplayfulthistime.Morewatery.“DidyoujustwritewhatIthinkyoudid?”
Ishrugandgrinather.“Guessyou’llhavetogolook.”
Sheshootsoffthebed,andIwatchhertakequickstepsacrosswhatisbasicallyaconstructionzone,towardthebathroom.Thecreasesunderherass,thelaceframingit,andthewordsWillyoumarryme?writtenonherback.
It’ssofuckingsatisfying.
IdarttomybagandgrabthevelvetboxIhid.Igofast,notwantingtomisstheexpressiononherfacewhensheseesit.
Myeyestraceherassheturnsherbacktothesmalltemporarymirrorintheensuitebathroom.Shecastsaglanceoverhershoulderandthen…
Shesmilesthatlittlesmirkthatusedtopissmeoffandnowdrivesmewild.Shedoesn’teventurnmyway.Shejuststandsthere,staringatherreflection,smiling.
Idroptoonekneeandholduptheringinmyhand—acanarysolitairewithsmallerdiamondpointstomakeitlooklikeastar—andImightaswellbeholdingupmyheart.
Becausethisgirlownseverybitofme.Andshehasfromthefirstdayshesmirkedatme.
WhenSummerturnsbacktome,hersmilegrowslarger.Shedoesn’tevenglanceatthering,shejuststandstherestaringatme,heririsesdancingwithmineandspeakingalanguageonlythetwoofusknow.
“Yes.”Shenods,tearsspringingupnow.
“Princess,pleasedon’tcry.”Shepadsclosertome,wrappingherarmsaroundmeandpressingmyheadtoherchest.Herheartbeatsareloud,strongandsteady,andsofuckingsure.JustlikeIamofthis—ofher.
“They’rehappytears.”
Ireachup,swipingastraytearfromhercheek.“Istillhatethem.ButI’mgladyou’rehappy.Ifthesewereyourlastmoments,wouldyougohappy?”
Takingherhandinmine,Islidetheringontoherfinger,lovinghowperfectlyitsuitsher.
Webothspendafewsecondsstaringatit.Admiringit—butmaybemoreadmiringwhatitmeans.
Shegripsmyhead,rubbingherthumbsacrossmybeard.“Yeah,butthiswon’tbemylastmoment.I’vegottoomanythingsIwanttodowithyoufirst.”
AhugegrinburstsacrossmyfaceandIsurgeup,scoopingherintomyarms.Icarryherbacktowardthemattress.
“Metoo,Princess.LiketakeyoutothemainhouseandintroducethefutureMrs.Eaton.MaybemakeoutwithyouatTheSpurtonightsothateveryonetalksaboutit.Butfirst,”Itossherdownontothebed,thrivingonthewaterygigglethatescapesher.“First,I’mgoingtospendtheafternoonlisteningtoyouscreammyname.”
Shelaughsandholdsherhanduptogazeatherring.Lookingsofuckinghappy.
Andseeingherhappy?
Seeingherhappyiseverything.
AndI’mhappytoo,becauseIgettobestuckinherorbitfortherestofmylife.
***
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LucyReid’seyesfluttermyway.Thelookinthemisjustalittletooappreciativeformytaste.
“Well,Ilovetodoartsandcrafts.Idoalotofscrapbookinginmysparetime.Knitting.IbetLukewouldlovetodosomeknitting.Don’tyouthink,Cade?”
Ialmostlaugh.Thewayshepurrsmyname.Also,I’dlovetoseesomeonegetLuketositstilllongenoughtohandletwopointysticksandcreatesomething.
ShesmilesoveratSummernow,mylittlebrother’sfiancé,beforeadding,“Youknowhowitis.Weallneedsomesortoffemininehobbies,don’twe?”
Ihearmydad,Harvey,chucklefromwherehe’sseatedintheroom’scorner.Hiringanannyhasturnedintoafull-onfamilyaffair.
Andalso,afull-onnightmare.
Summer’slipsrolltogether,andsheoffersasmall,fakesmile.“Yes,ofcourse.”Ialmostsnort.Summer’sideaoffeminineentertainmentissquattingheavyplatesatthegymandtorturinggrownmeninthenameof“personaltraining.”She’slyingthroughherfuckingteeth,butmaybeshe’sstillnewenoughintownthatLucydoesn’tknow.
OrmaybeLucyisbeingasnarkybitchtomyfuturesister.
“Alright.”Istand.“Well,thanks.We’llgetbacktoyou.”
LucylooksalittletakenabackbyhowswiftlyI’vechangedtheconversation,butI’veheardandseenallIneedto.
Andbedsidemannerisn’tmystrongsuit.I’mmoreofarip-the-band-aidofftype.
Ispinonmyheel,dropmychin,andwalkoutbeforeit’stooobviousthatIsawheroutstretchedhandandjustdidn’tcaretoshakeit.Practicallystompingtothekitchen,IpropmyhandsagainstthebutcherblockcounterthatbutsupagainstthewindowandletmyeyestraceoutovertheopenrangeandacrossthepeaksoftheRockiesthatjutuptowardtheheavens.
Thisview,wildandcraggy,isburstingwithcolorintheearlysummer.Grassalittletoogreen,skyalittletooblue.Sunbrightenoughtowasheverythingoutabitandmakeyousquint.
Aftertossingsomecoffeebeansintothegrindertomakeafreshpot,IpressdownonthetoptofillthehousewiththesoundandtrynottothinkaboutwhatI’mgoingtodowithmykidforthenextcouplemonths.Itjustleadsmetobeatingmyselfup.FeelinglikeIshouldodmoreforhim.Bemorepresentforhim
Basically,it’snotproductive.
Thesoundhastheaddedbenefitofdrowningoutthepleasantriesthatmydad,Harvey,andSummerareexchangingatthefrontdoor.
Notmyhouse,notmyresponsibility.We’reatthemainfarmhouse,wheremydadlives,todothenannyinterviewsbecauseIdon’tlikelettingrandompeopleintomyhouse.Especiallynotoneswholookatmelikethisistheirticketintocompletingsomeweirdlittlepre-madehappyfamilyfantasywithme.
Harvey,ontheotherhand,wouldrunabed-and-breakfastoutofthisplaceandenjoythehelloutoftakingcareofpeople.Eversincehegotinjuredandhandedtheranchovertome,it’slikehejustwandersaroundsocializing24/7.
Iwatchthesmallgrainstumbleintothewhitepaperfilterinthetopofthecoffeemakerandthenswiveltofillthepotwithwateratthesink.
“Kindalateinthedayforapotofcoffee,don’tyouthink?”Harveystridesin,withSummernotfarbehind.
Theyhavenoidea.I’mfulluponcoffeetoday.Almostjittery.ThegrinIgivebarelytouchesmyeyes.“Justpre-makingitfortomorrowmorningforya.”
Summersnortsandmydadrollshiseyes.TheybothknowI’mfullofshit.
“Youweren’tverynicetoher,Cade,”ishisnextcomment.Andnowit’smyturntorollmyeyes.“Infact,you’rebeingachallengewiththisentireprocess.”
Crossingmyarms,Ileanbackagainstthecountertop.“I’mnotverynice.AndI’llhappilybeachallengeaboutprotectingmykid.”Iswearmydad’slipstwitch,andhesitsdownatthetableandcrossesabootedfootoverhisknee.Summerjuststands,hipproppedagainstthedoorframe,staringatme.Shedoesthissometimes,andit’sunnerving.
She’ssmart.Shedoesn’tmissabeat.IswearIhearthegearsturninginherhead,butshedoesn’thaveabigmouth,soyouneverquiteknowwhatshe’sthinking.
IreallylikeherandI’mgladmylittlebrotherwassmartenoughtoputaringonit.
“You’renice,”shesaysthoughtfully,“inyourownway.”
IclampmyteethontomylipsbecauseIdon’twanttogivethemthesatisfactionofseeingI’mamusedbythatcomment.
Shesighs.“Listen,that’severyonewe’veinterviewed.IwentoutofmywaytoweedouttheapplicantswhoseemedlessinterestedinspendingtimewithLukeandmoreinterestedinspendingtimewith…you.”
“Hooboy,”mydadslapsthetable,“andtherewereseveral.Whoknewwomenwouldwillinglysignuptoendureyourscowlsandbadmoods?Thepayisn’tthatgood.”
IscowlathimbeforeturningmyattentionbacktoSummer.“Youdidn’tweedthoroughlyenough.Iwantsomeonewhohaszerointerestinme.Nocomplicatedshit.Maybetheycouldbehappilymarried?”
“Happilymarriedwomenaren’tlookingtoliveinyourhouseforthesummer.”
Igrunt.“Whataboutsomeonefromanothertown?Someonewhodoesn’tknowourfamily.Andallmyshit.Someonewhohasn’tsleptwithoneofmybrothers.”Mynosewrinkles.“Ormydad.”
Harveymakesalittlechokingsound,almostalaugh.“I’vebeensinglefordecades,son.Mindyourbusiness.”
Summer’scheekspinken,butIdon’tmissthesmileonherlipsassheturnstolookoutthewindow.
“Icouldjustdoit,youknow,”headds.Andnotforthefirsttime.
“No.”
“Whynot?He’smygrandson.”
“Exactly.That’swhatyourrelationshipshouldremain.You’vedoneenoughhelpingwithhimforhisentirelife.Yourback,yourknees,youneedarest.Youcanstillhaveyourfundayswithhim—anytimeyouwant.Butyoudon’tneedtogetrunintothegroundwithlonghours,earlymornings,andpossiblylatenights.It’snotfair,andI’mnottakingadvantageofyouthatway.Endofstory.”
ThenIturnbacktomyfuturesister-in-law.“Summer,can’tyoujustdoit?You’dbeperfect.Lukelovesyou.Youdon’tlikeme.Youalreadyliveontheranch.”
Iseeherjawpop.She’sdefinitelygettingsickofmeaskingher.ButIdon’twanttoleavemyboywithjustanyone.He’sahandful.Morethanonehandful.AndIcan’tdoeverythingIneedtodoonthisranchthissummerwithoutsomeoneheretotakecareofhim.SomeoneIcantrusttokeephimsafe.
“I’malsoanewbusinessowner,andthesesummermonthsaremybusiest.It’snotanoption.Stopasking.Itmakesmefeelbad.BecauseIloveLukeandIalsolikeyou.Butwe’regettingtiredofbendingoverbackwardsinterviewingpeoplejusttomakezeroprogresswithyou.”
“Okay,fine,”Igrumble.“I’llsettleforsomeonejustlikeyou,then.”
Herheadquirksinresponsetothat,herbodystilling.“Imighthaveanidea.”ShebringsafingeruptotapitagainstherlipsandHarveyturnstoher,eyesfullofquestions.
Helookssodamnhopeful.IfI’mtiredofthesagathatisfindinganewnannyforthesummer,thenHarveymustbedownrightexhausted.
Myeyebrowsknittogether.“Who?”
“Youdon’tknowher.”
“Doesshehaveexperience?”
Summerstaresatme,widedarkeyesgivingnothingaway.“Shehasexperiencewithhandlingrowdyboys,yes.”
“Willshefallinlovewithme?”
Summersnortsinthemostunladylikeway.“No.”
Ishouldprobablybeoffended,butI’mnot.Ipushoffthecounterandtwirlafingeraround.“Perfect.Let’sdoitup,”ItellherasImarchoutthebackdoortowardmyhouseandawayfromtheclusterfuckthatisfindingacapablenannyforafive-year-oldboy.
Ijustneedsomeonetogetinandgetout.Someoneprofessionalandcomplicationfree.
It’sonlytwomonths.Itshouldn’tbethathard.
#
IcountinmyheadthelasttimeIhadsex.
OratleastItry.
Twoyears?Threeyears?WasitthatonetimeinJanuarywhenIspentanightinthecity?Howlongagowasthateven?Whatwasthatchick’snameagain?
Thewomaninfrontofmeshifts,onehippoppingout,fullassroundingoutherskinnyjeansinawaythatshouldbeillegal.Theunder-cheekcreaseisalmostasalluringastheswingofherauburnhairasitswishesacrossherslenderback.
She’sdistracting.Tightshirttuckedintotightjeans.Everyfuckingcurveondisplay.
Ilosecountentirely.It’sthesightofherinfrontofmeinlineforcoffeethathasmecountinganyway.
ThetakeawayhereisIhadsexsolongagothatIdon’tevenremember.Butthere’snoforgettingwhyIhaven’tevenletmyselfconsiderawomanforthislong.
AkidI’mraisingonmyown.AranchI’mrunningonmyown.Amillionresponsibilities.Toolittletime.Notenoughsleep.
Timeformyselfhasn’tbeenathingforalongtime.Ijustdidn’trealizehowlong.
“WhatcanIgetyou,ma’am?”
Thewomaninfrontofmelaughs,anditremindsmeofthechimesonmybackporchwhenthewinddancesthroughthem—melodicandairysounding.
Whatalaugh.
It’salaughI’drecognize.I’vedefinitelynevermetthiswoman.I’drememberit,becauseIknoweveryoneinChestnutSprings.
“Ma’am?Idon’tknowhowIfeelaboutthat,”shesays,andIswearIcanhearthesmileinhervoice.Iwonderifherlipsmatchtherestofher.
Ellen,whorunsLePamplemousse,thelittlegourmetcoffeeshopintown,smilesather.“Well,whatwouldyouhavemecallyou?Iusuallyrecognizeeveryfacethatwalksinmydoor,butnotyours.”
Ah,it’snotjustme.Ileanforwardalittle,hopingtocatchthename.Butoneworkerchoosesthisexactmomenttogrindcoffee.Whichjustmakesmegrindmyteeth.
Idon’tknowwhyIwanttoknowthiswoman’sname.Ijustdo.I’mfromasmalltown,I’mallowedtobesnoopy.Andthat’sallthisis.
Whenthegrindingnoisestops,Ellen’swrinkledfacelightsup.“Whataprettyname.”
“Thankyou,”thewomaninfrontofmereplies,beforeadding,“HowcomethisplaceiscalledTheGrapefruit?”
Ellenbarksoutalaughandgrinsfromhersideofthecounter.“ItoldmyhusbandIwantedtonametheshopsomethingthatsoundedfancy.SomethingFrench.HesaidtheonlythingheknowshowtosayinFrenchisLePamplemousse.Itseemedgoodenoughtomeandnowit’slikealittlerunningjokebetweenus.”Hereyessoftenatthementionofherhusband,andIfeelaflickerofenvyinsideofmychest.
Followedbyaflickerofannoyance.
TheonlyreasonIhaven’tgrumbledabouttheirslow-as-fuckchitchatisbecauseI’mtoobusyfightingoffapublicboneroverthischick’slaugh.Undernormalcircumstances,I’dbepissedthatgrabbingacoffeeistakingthisdamnlong.ItoldmydadI’dbebacktograbLuke—Icheckmywatch—rightaboutnow.IneedtogetbacksoIcanmeetwithSummerandthepersonwhowillhopefullybeLuke’snanny.
ButmymindiswanderinginwaysIhaven’tletitinliterallyyears.SomaybeI’mmeanttojustenjoytheride.Thefeelingoffeelingsomething.
“I’llgrabamedium,extrahot,nofoam,halfsweet…”MyeyessubtlyrollbackinmyheadasItipthebrimofmyblackhatdown.Ofcourse,theoutsiderwiththerockingbodyhastohaveanannoyinglylongandcomplicateddrinkorder.
“That’llbethreedollarsandseventy-fivecents,”Ellensays,eyesfixedonthecashregister’stouchscreeninfrontofherwhilethewomanatthetilldigsthroughheroversizedpurse,clearlylookingforherwallet.
“Ohshit,”shemutters,andfromthecornerofmyeye,Iseesomethingfallfromherpursetothepolishedconcretefloorathersandal-cladfeet.
Withouteventhinkingaboutit,Idropintoacrouchandswipetheblackfabricoffthefloor.Iseeherlegsturningandrisebackup.
“Hereyougo,”Isay,myvoiceallgravelasashotofnerveshitsme.Talkingtostrangewomenisn’tawell-honedskillofmine.
Scowlingatthem?I’maprofessional.
“OhmyGod,”shesays.
Standingnow,Igetagoodlookatherface.Myfeetroottothegroundandmylungsstopworking.Herlaughhasnothingonherface.Cat-likeeyes,archedbrows,andmilkyskin.
She’sfuckingstunning.
Andhercheeksarefire-enginered.
“I’msosorry,”shegasps,amanicuredhandfallingacrossherrosebudlips.
“Noneed.It’sfine,”Isay,butIstillfeellikeeverythingishappeninginslowmotion.I’mhavingahardtimecatchingup,stilltoofixatedonherface.
Andfuck
Hertits.
I’mofficiallyacreepyoldman.Myeyestraildowntomyfist,thesoftfabricpokingoutfrombetweenmyfingers.
Shegroansasmyfingersunfurl.Andslowly,butsurely,Ifigureoutwhyshe’sactingsohorrifiedovermebeingagentlemanandpickingupher…
Panties.
Istareatthescrapofblackfabricinmyhandandit’slikeeverythingaroundusgoesblurry.Myeyesshoottohers,allwideandgreen.Somanyshades.Amosaic.
I’mnotknownforsmiling,butthecornersofmymouthtwitch.“You,uh,droppedyourpanties,ma’am.”
Astrangledlaughburstsfromherashergazedartstomyhandandbacktomyface.“Wow.Thisisawkward.I’mreally—”
“Yourcoffeeisready,sweetheart!”Ellencalls.
Theredhead’sfaceflipsaway,likeshe’srelievedbytheinterruption.“Thankyou!”shecallsbackalittletoobrightlybeforeslappingafivedownonthecounterandgrabbingthepapercup.Withoutanotherglance,she’smakingabee-lineforthedoor.Likeshecan’tgetawayfastenough.“Keepthechange!Seeyouagain!”
IswearIhearhergigglingunderherbreathasshebreezespast,clearlyavoidingmygazewhilemurmuringsomethingtoherselfaboutthisbeingagoodstorytotellherkidsoneday.
IabsentlywonderwhatthefuckkindofstoriesthiswomanplansontellingherfuturechildrenbeforeIcallouttoher.“Youforgotyour…”ItrailoffbecauseIrefusetoshoutthisacrossthecoffeeshopfullofpeopleIhavetofacedayin,dayout.
Sheturnstopressherbackintothedoorwhenshegetsthereandholdsmyeyeforabeat,barelycontainedlaughtertouchingeveryfeature.“Finderskeepers,”shesayswithashrug.
Now,shedoeslaugh,fullandwarmandsodamnamused.Thensheexitsintothesunlitstreet,hairshininglikefireandhipsswinginglikesheownsthistown.
Sheleavesmestunned.
AndwhenIlookbackdownatmyopenpalm,ithitsmethatshe’slonggone,Ihavenoideawhathernameis,andI’mstillhere…
Holdingherpanties.
***
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AFalseStartAcknowledgments
IfayearagosomeonetoldmeI’dbehere,doingthis,I’dhavelaughedintheirface.Buttheworldworksinmysteriousways,andlikethequoteatthefrontofthisbooksays:sometimesthemomentseizesyou.
Whataride.Whatanadventure.Whatanabsoluteblessingtohavestumbledintoacareerthatbringsmethismuchjoy.
Butthisjobisonlythisincrediblebecausesomanyotherpeoplehelpmakeitthatway.
Tomyreaders,thankyou.Fromthebottomofmyheart.Thankyouforspendingyourpreciousfreetimereadingmystories.Forlovingthem,forsharingthem,forblowingupmyinboxwithyourmessages.Iloveitall.
Tomyhusband,you’retheultimatebookboyfriend.Youinspirelittlepiecesofmybookseverytime.Iloveyoubeyondmeasure.
Tomyson,youmakemelaugheveryday.Yougivethebesthugs.I’msoluckytobeyourmama.Iloveyoutothemoonandback.
Tomyparents,youalwaysknewI’dfigureoutwhattodowithmyself.EvenwhenIwasn’tsosureyouwereright.You’rethetwobestcheerleadersagirlcouldaskfor.Iloveyoubothwithallmyheart.
TomyassistantKrista,Ihatecallingyoumyassistant.Ifeellikeyou’rejustmyreallycoolfunfriendwhohelpsmewithALLOFTHETHINGS.AndIwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.
ToLena,you’remyrideordie.Myfellowdelightfulpervert.Youmakethisgigmorefuneveryday.WhoelsewouldIsayalltheinappropriatethingsto?
ToCatherine,youarethemostwonderfultopsecretmentoragirlcouldaskfor.Ifeelsofortunatetohaveyouinmycorner.
ToKandi,youhavetobeoneofmyfavoritepeople…ever.Iwillneverforgetyourgenerosityandyourkindness.Ican’twaittopayitforwardoneday.I’msoluckytocallyoumyfriend.
ToSarahfromSocialButterfly,Iloveourworkingrelationship.ButIalsocan’twaittoeatawafflepenisanddogoatyogawithyou.
Tomybetareaders,Amy,Krista,andKelly,thankyouforyourhardworkandkeeneyes.Youcatchthethingsmybrainistoojumbledtonotice.
TomyeditorPaula,basically…I’mobsessedwithyou.Haha.Thankyouforalwaysbeingavailabletobounceideasoffofandjokearoundwith.Youareirreplaceable.
TomycoverdesignerCasey/Echo,youworkedsohardonthiscoverandgoddamnit,itpaidoff.Yourexpertiseandopinionsareinvaluabletome.Youalsocrackmeup,sothere’sthat.
Finally,tomyARCreadersandstreetteammembers…Idon’tevenknowwheretostart.Youmakeabiggerdifferencethanyou’lleverrealize.Everypostmakesmesmile,everyreviewhasanimpact.Idon’tcarehowmanyfollowersanyofyouhave,you’reallwonderfulanddeservingandIappreciateeachandeveryoneofyoumorethanyouknowAreyouaModernBelle?
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BecomeaModernBelle!AbouttheAuthor
ElsieSilverisaCanadianauthorofsassy,sexy,smalltownromancewholovesagoodbookboyfriendandthestrongheroineswhobringthemtotheirknees.ShelivesjustoutsideofVancouver,BritishColumbiawithherhusband,son,andthreedogsandhasbeenvoraciouslyreadingromancebookssincebeforeshewasprobablysupposedto.
Shelovescookingandtryingnewfoods,traveling,andspendingtimewithherboys—especiallyoutdoors.Elsiehasalsobecomeabigfanofherquietfiveo’clockmornings,whichiswhenmostofherwritinghappens.It’sduringthistimethatshecansipacupofhotcoffeeanddreamupafictionalworldfullofromanticstoriestosharewithherreaders.
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