Page 32 of Chaos

It’s just my luck that Finn slips into the stall right next door.

“How’s my girl, huh?” he murmurs to what might be the only horse on the planet that’s bigger than Clyde, and I frown. And I frown some more when the big, black Shire greets the ranch hand with a soft snort against his neck. Affectionately so, like she likes him, which is weird to me because as sweet a mare as Gaia is, there’s only one human alive she actually likes.

I liked him too. Though, I’m not sure he ever knew that. I sure as fuck never told him, but I think he knew. Hunter was smart like that. Intuitive. He noticed everything, but he kept shit to himself, minded his own business.

He caught me crying in the barn once. The other barn that, before it became a stable, was briefly my dusty, dark hiding spot. I’d just had a fight with Lux about… I don’t even remember what, but I know I was upset. I was licking my wounds, mid-releasing my frustrations when Hunter stumbled upon me.

He didn’t say anything—heneversaid anything. He just left me to it, but the next time I found my way there, there was a box of tissues tucked in the corner.

Something that made me laugh when I really, really needed it.

It doesn’t make me laugh now. In fact, thinking about Hunter makes me feel like shit because right before he ran off into the sunset with my brother’s ex-girlfriend, he asked me to take care of Gaia. And I agreed. And then I fucked off too.

I’m well aware that I’m being ridiculous. That I’m being the brat Finn claimed me to be. Yet self-awareness doesn’t stop me from blurting out, “That’s not your horse.”

Finn takes his time turning towards me, his head just as slow to tip to one side. “She yours?”

I do some kind of a nod-shrug combo.

“May I take her for a ride, please, Your Highness?”

Jackass.

I purse my lips and I guess Finn takes that as permission because he leads her into the aisle—more like Gaia shoves him into the aisle. I think the mare would saddle herself up if she could.What the hell?“Where’re you going?”

“Got some fences to mend.” He tugs on the saddle, checking it’s secure, before sliding one foot into a stirrup and smoothly hoisting himself up. “You wanna come?”

I don’t consider it—that’s not why I hesitate. I just take a moment to process the sight of a big man comfortably straddling a bigger horse, something innately cocky in his posture and the way he gathers the reins in one hand. He’s all spread thighs and corded forearms and a crooked grin, and it distracts me. My snapped, snarkyno thanksgets caught in my throat.

And before I can spit it out, Finn makes a sound through his teeth. He clucks his tongue, and I get the feeling it’s a chastise aimed at me as much as it’s a command for Gaia to get moving. “Too bad I got your horse, princess.”

For the hundredth time in the space of a single hour, Yasmin asks if I’m sure.

From my position slouched on the couch, one hand in a family-size bag of candy corn while the other tries to solve today’s Wordle, I shake my head without looking up. “I’m good.”

Goodbeing code forgrounded, of course. When Yasmin sighs disappointedly, I’m tempted to tell her to take it up with my jailers. Although, even if I didn’t have an invisible house arrest anklet weighing me down, I wouldn’t join the other hands on their weekly big night out before their day off tomorrow.It sounds like my worst nightmare, to be honest. Cramming into Bishop’s on a busy Saturday night, making small talk with strangers—or worse, making small talk withnotstrangers. With people I know. People I went to high school with.

Just thinking about it makes me want to dry heave.

No, I’m perfectly fine vegging out right here all night. Sure, I got the itch a little watching Yasmin get ready, as she parked herself on the living room floor because she said the lighting was best down here and talked my ear off for an hour and a half. I might’ve stared a little wistfully as she slicked on eyeliner and red lipstick, and fixed all that hair into a sleek ponytail, and briefly scampered upstairs to slip into a mini skirt. That always was my favorite part of going out, the getting all dolled up bit.

The rest of it though, I’ll pass. Because I want to, not because I’ve been forbidden from having a social life.

Long, golden brown legs appear in my peripheral, crossing at the knee as Yasmin perches on the coffee table in front of me. “Just one drink?”

Speaking of things I want.“Sorry.”

She pouts, shoulders slumping, and God, speaking of things that make me itch too. Her disappointment hits me in the sternum, lodging behind my rib cage to join the weighty chunk of that emotion I’ve already accrued after twenty-two years of letting people down.

I don’t want any more of it. I want to get Yasmin off my back. That’s why I mumble, “Maybe next time, though.”

Not because I intend on following through. Only because I want her to leave me alone.

Which she does. With a pleased smile and a pat on my blanket-covered leg, she skips off towards the two boys waiting for her by the front door. Her boyfriend slaps her on the ass while Adam yanks her ponytail, the trio skipping towards one ofthe trucks parked outside just as the owner thunders down the stairs, twirling his keys around one, long finger.

I hardly recognize Finn without the jeans-and-crop-top combination he usually sports. Not that his current attire is anything to complain about.

Not at all. It’s not exactly bar-appropriate—I picture him standing next to Yasmin and internally snort—but as someone who often had to actively fight the urge to wear pajamas to work, I’ve got no room to judge.

---