Page 2 of Cowboy Crush
I laugh and shake my head. “You two are worse than children, you know that?” I move to the edge of the water and sit on the side with my feet dangling in the water. I take another long drink, happy to finally be here and out from behind the wheel. It was a long drive. We left at three this morning, and I drove the entire way. Right now, all I want to do is kick back with a few cold ones, relax, have a good dinner, and get some rest. My vacation will officially start tomorrow after I’ve recovered from the drive.
“Get in the water, Hannah!” Chloe yells, splashing at me.
I kick water back at her. “Leave me alone and let me relax,” I tell her, setting my beer down beside me as I pull the rubber band off my wrist and start gathering my long blond hair into a high ponytail.
Summer swims over to me and sets her beer on the edge. “We should’ve bought some rafts to float on. I mean, how am I supposed to perfect my tan if I can’t float?”
I offer her a smile. “We can go back into town tomorrow. We’ll make a list tonight of everything else we need to get. I’m sure we forgot a lot of things.”
“Hey, what’s for dinner anyway and who’s cooking?” Chloe asks, swimming over.
“I guess we can all take turns,” Summer replies. “We’ll be here seven nights a week and there are three of us so….” she says, thinking. “I’ll cook on Sundays and Mondays. Hannah, you can cook on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and Chloe, you’ll cook on Thursdays and Fridays.”
“But that leaves Saturdays open,” Chloe says.
Summer nods. “On Saturday, we’ll go out, explore the town, meet the people…maybe find some cute guys,” she says, grin growing in size. Chloe laughs and agrees.
“Add condoms to that list,” I say around a grin, causing them to look over at me with confusion.
I shrug. “I’m just saying that you’ll want to be safe. This is only meant as a stop on our journey. We all have big futures planned and getting pregnant as a result of a one-night stand in a vacation town will derail everything.”
Chloe laughs, but Summer’s eyes widen. “Right. No getting pregnant and no falling in love.” She holds up her pinky.
Chloe snorts. “Seriously? Do I look that dumb?” She wraps her pinky around Summer’s, and then they both look at me.
“I’m the responsible one out of all of us. I don’t need a pinky promise to get through this summer,” I tell them, adding my pinky into the mix.
“To a summer of responsible fun,” Summer says. We all agree and let our pinkies fall away.
The two of them grab my legs, and they don’t let up until I’m in the water and we’re having a full-on splashing fight. After several long minutes, the splashing settles down and the three of us go into relaxation mode, swimming, drinking, and singing along with the music playing on the speaker. The sun is still rather high in the sky, so we have several hours until dark, and I plan on staying in this pool for all of them. The heat of the day has the water warmed, but it still feels cold compared to the dry heat.
We take turns getting out of the pool for beer runs. We talk about boys, our future, and the things we want to do this summer. We giggle, pick on one another, and have fun just like we always do until the sun goes down and we’re all starving. Eventually, we make our way into the house to shower and prepare dinner. We light a fire in the fireplace, and we eat dinner in the living room as we watch old DVDs from the owner’s selection—apparently, we’re too far out for real cable. The night winds down, and we all end up falling asleep in front of the fire and TV, none of us actually making it to our rooms. Night one is a success to say the least.
2
JAMESON
The sun has just come up over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of yellow, orange, and pinks. The bright yellow sun is climbing fast today, chasing away the darkness and shadows that have settled over the night. It’s too bad it can’t do the same for the darkness that rests in me. I let out a chuckle. Hell, I don’t think anything can do that. The people who know me best tell me that I’m too young to be this bitter. Everyone else just thinks that I’m an asshole, and truth be told, I’m fine with that. My dream of becoming a professional bull rider was taken away from me in a flash. When you’ve worked your whole life toward one goal, losing it is devastating. Now I’m left, floating through life, doing whatever I can to make ends meet, but I wouldn’t call it living.
Since recovering from my accident a few years back, I’ve taken on small job after small job, hoping to find something else in life that makes my heart race like it did when I was on the back of that bull. But nothing can measure up. It’s like finding the best working drug on the planet and being addicted to it. I would eat, sleep, and breathe the lifestyle. It’s what got me out of bed in the mornings. It’s what I lived for. And then within the blink of an eye, it all ended. That drug that I was so addicted to chewed me up and spit me out just like the best of them. I was left near death, bloody, broken, unable to move to race after the drug again and only had the memory and the withdrawals to keep me going.
I was so close to getting what I’ve always wanted and then had it brutally ripped away, I’ve been left bitter, pissed off, in a forever state of hatred for the world. Nothing can make my life any better, nothing left working toward, nothing left even living for. However, death isn’t something you get to choose unless we take it into our own hands, and I couldn’t do that to my mother. Not after she did everything she could for me to make sure I survived and recovered from my accident. So now, here I am. Just an asshole with a chip on his shoulder and a lost dream trying to make it in a world that doesn’t give a shit about him.
“You work too hard,” my boss, Kaden, says as he walks up to the barn while I’m pulling on my gloves to muck the stalls.
“Why do you say that? Thought that’s what you hired me for?”
He hands over a thermos. “I hired you because I knew you needed a job and everyone in town had nothing but good things to say. Abby wanted you to have that,” he says, motioning toward the thermos.
“Tell her I said thanks.” I set the container on the old wooden work bench.
“You know, you’re not supposed to be here until seven.”
“It’s seven.” I turn my back to him and grab the pitchfork.
“You got here at five.” Something in his voice is off. Is he angry? Disappointed that I’m breaking the rules? I’m only twenty-six, but I know my previous bosses loved it when I came in early and got a head start.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave early so you don’t have to pay any extra.”
