The line disconnects, and disappointment flares. Henry’s been much more distant from me since I left Washington. I figured it would happen, but thinking it and seeing it come to fruition are very different things. I go to shove my phone into my pocket so I can finish these chores, but before I do, I notice I have a new text message. My stomach flutters as I read the name.
Cope: Hey, it’s supposed to be a nice, cool day tomorrow. Wanna go for a trail ride after we finish with the chores? I know a really cool place we can go.
The first thought that pops into my head is,aww he wants to take me on a trail ride?The second, more blaring, thought is,I have no fucking clue how to ride a horse.
Surely, it can’t be that hard, right? You hop on up and hold on tight… I can do that. Hell yeah, I can do that.
Me: Sure. That’d be fun. :)
He responds immediately, and I re-read it about a dozen times before putting the phone away.
Cope: Sweet. Can’t wait.
6
COPE MURPHY
“You’ve seriouslyneverbeen on a horse before?” I ask in disbelief. “The first time I rode a horse, I had probably just learned to walk.”
Xander rolls his eyes, leveling me with a stare. “Cope, your father was a famous bronc rider. Of course, you rode a horse at a young age. My mother was a bartender who barely made enough to get by. Horses weren’t the first thing on her to-do list when it came to my sister and I.”
“Okay, but as a teenager or as an adult… Never?”
“Oh, my God,” he grumbles. “Are you going to show me how to get on this fucking horse, or stand here and judge me all morning?”
“Sheesh, somebody is touchy.” I can’t help the smirk that fights to break free. I can tell he doesn’t like not knowing how to do things. I saw it initially when I helped him on the farm that first day. He’s somebody who wants to be great at everything he does, so in turn, learning new tasks is frustrating. Shooter is the same way. “It’s easy. Here, I’ll help you.”
I walk over, positioning myself behind him, placing my hands on his hips. He freezes for a moment, his breath audiblyhitching. “Is this okay?” I ask, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
He lets himself relax before he nods. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
Tapping his hip with my hand, I say, “Take your left foot and stick it in the stirrup. Put your left hand there—yup, like that—and now, putting your weight on that left foot, hoist yourself up and throw your right leg over her.”
Xander goes to do as I say, and I tighten my grip on his waist, helping him up as best as I can. He’s pretty light, so it doesn’t take much to get him positioned on the horse the right way. His scent wafts around me as he jumps up; fresh, clean, and almost sweet. It smells nice. When he gets into place, he peers down at me, his cheeks flushed and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
My stomach does a weird flip at the sight of him, and I suddenly feel flustered.What the hell?Clearing my throat, I push past that and grin up at him. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He shakes his head, returning the smile, but it looks forced. Almost like a wince.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…” He blows out a breathy laugh. “I’m nervous. I’ve never done this, and she’s massive. But I’m okay.”
Something inside of me melts at his honesty. “I’ll ride right beside you. It’ll be good,” I assure him.
Before we saddled up the horses, I went over how to ride them—how to get them to go, to stop, slow down—so once I climb up on my own horse, I go over that one more time before we get started. True to my word, I stay beside him the whole time, but at first, I stay a few feet back so I can keep him in my sight. He’s a little wobbly and a lot stiff. It’s more than clear he’s nervous, but it’s endearing to watch.
Growing up in Copper Lake and being around the rodeo as much as I was all throughout my life, it’s not often I meet people who’ve never ridden horses. So, getting to show Xander the ropes—literally and figuratively—and watching him find his footing is fun for me. Glancing over at him, I can’t help but smile to myself because he very much looks like somebody not from around here, and I don’t mean that in a negative way. It’s just the facts.
Everybody here is either a cowboy or a farmer. It’s rare to see someone with a style like Xander’s. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he dresses emo, but it walks that line. He’s currently wearing ripped, dark-wash skinny jeans that seem entirely too tight to ride in, a white band tee—don’t ask me what band; I don’t have a clue—a black zip-up, and the same Van’s he’s always wearing. He must’ve washed them after they got dirty last week when he was doing his chores.
His black floppy hair has a slight curl to it, and it hangs over his forehead in a way that has my fingers itching to brush it back.That’s interesting...A few of his fingers are adorned with rings, and the black polish on them is still chipping away.
Xander doesn’t look like a cowboy or a farmer, but I like that about him.
The farther down the trail we get, the more comfortable he looks. His lithe body sways ever so slightly as the horse walks, and I can’t help but be mesmerized. It’s weird, the way Xander holds my attention the way he does. From the moment I saw him on the side of the road, I’ve felt enamored by his presence. This constant need to be around him is new. Sure, I have friends who I enjoy being around from time to time, but I also thoroughly enjoy my alone time. I’m not even this way with Shooter, who’s my best friend.
With Xander, it’s like I’ve had this urge to be near him. To help him, and learn as much about him as I can. He fascinatesme. It’s why I’ve come over every morning to help him out. Of course, I’ll always help someone in need. It’s just the gentleman in me, but I don’t think I’d go this out of my way to make sure someone gets the help they need.
