Page 25 of A False Start
The man who kissed me brainless once, and I was supposed to have forgotten.
“You okay?”
He’s not touching me anymore, but he might as well be. I can feel that simple squeeze on my neck like a brand. Any time he touches me, my skin hums with pleasure.
I hate it. I hate it because he turned me away and because he had to be best friends with one of the few people in the world I wouldneverhurt.
I hate him for being the only man who’s lit me up the way he did. And I hate him even more for being the only man I really can’t pursue.
And Ireallyhate that I can’t save that horse in there.
“No.” It comes out as a sob despite my best efforts to control my voice.
“Guy is a prick.” He spits the word out like he wants to hurt it.
“That horse. Griff—Griffin.” My voice cracks over his name. “That poor horse.”
I’m fucking falling apart, and I can’t even explain why. I’m overwhelmed with crushing sadness. And anger.
“For fuck’s sake,” he barks out before I hear him spin on his heel to leave.
I’m too embarrassed to even turn around. Instead, I close my eyes and attempt to center myself, to get a grip on my emotions.The girl you want to be doesn’t crumble like this.
The girl I want to become should be pissed that Griffin stepped in and went all caveman on that sleaze bag.
But I’m not pissed. I’m relieved.
I don’t know how many minutes pass as I stand there breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, giving myself an internal pep talk.
All I know is that the uneven clopping of hooves pulls me out of the safe space I’ve created in my brain. And when I spin to see who’s coming my way, I see Griffin.
Leading the beautiful and sore, dark bay horse beside him.
“What are you doing?” I sniff as he struts straight up to me, holding out the tattered red rope that’s attached to the gelding’s leather halter.
“Here.” He can barely hold my gaze.Probably because I terrified him with my meltdown.
I take the rope, confusion etched on my features. “Why?”
“Because he’s yours now.”
“What?” Disbelief paints my tone as my head swivels between the broody horse and the broody man who just handed him to me. “You bought me a horse?”
“He’s sorta broken.”
He bought me a horse.
My eyes flit down to the pink skin at the center of the horse’s white nose as emotion wells up in me again, my brain stumbling along, trying to make sense of the last fifteen minutes of my life.
I don’t know what to say to his comment, so all I say as I stroke my new horse’s nose is, “That’s okay. So am I.”
10
Griffin
We pullout of the barns at Bell Point Park in silence.
Truthfully, I’ve been sitting in silence for the past three hours. I left Nadia and her new horse at the Gold Rush row of stalls, and then I drove all the way back out to Ruby Creek to pick up my horse trailer because, of course, we didn’t bring one with us.
