Page 42 of One Night Rancher

Reduced to the very essence of who human beings ever were. Horny, sweaty messes, who had reveled in improbable things only a moment before.

And there was not another person in the world she could have ever done it with. She knew that much. It was clear as could be.

She didn’t want him to say anything. Because she didn’t want to move from this space into the next one. She didn’t think she could handle it. She just needed to sit in the quiet for another second, try to find her breath.

She wasn’t sure that was possible. So she just kept on trying until her eyelids got heavy, and the last thing she saw before she drifted off to sleep was him lying beside her.

Nine

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cigarette, but thankfully, along with condoms, they were always in his pocket.

Because sometimes, after a night of heavy drinking, only a little nicotine would do. He hadn’t been drunk on alcohol tonight, though. It was her.

The night was still and cold, and he sat out there on her back porch, staring off into the darkness. He didn’t have his truck, so he couldn’t leave. Anyway, leaving after he had just...

After he’d just screwed his best friend’s brains out, was maybe not the best way to go. But then, was he screwing her brains out, or had she done it to him? It was hard to say.

It never felt anything like that before. Their connection, combined with the chemistry... It was unreal.

He flicked the switch on the lighter until it started up, lit the cigarette and took a deep drag off of it, then watched the glowing red end and the smoke curl up into the night.

“What are you doing out there?”

He turned around and saw Cara looking at him through her partially opened window.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize the window was open.”

“I woke up before I smelled the cigarette smoke.”

She shut the window, and a moment later, the glass door slid open, and she stepped outside. “What’s this?”

“Nothing. Just... Cigarette break.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Not usually. But, sometimes.”

“Is this when I find out a whole bunch of things about you I didn’t know?”

“It wasn’t a secret.”

“I guess.”

She sat in the chair next to him. There was the space of a small, round table between them. She was dressed in an oversize T-shirt and nothing more. Her blond hair was a wreck. And he knew why.

A knot of guilt formed in his chest.

Was it guilt? He didn’t think it was. It was something else entirely.

He wanted to call it uncertainty. But the fact of the matter was... It was a resistance of certainty.

He’d taken care of her. It was what he had purposed to do. He had a great time having sex with her. It had been great. They’d both enjoyed it. So there was nothing to feel guilty about. She’d consented enthusiastically, as had he.

It was what he felt like required doing in the aftermath.

“So why don’t you tell me why you’ve never been with anybody before.”

“Really?”

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