He disappears down the hall, and I can’t help but watch him go. It’s so different how drawn to him I am. Normally, I’m never this hooked on somebody and every little thing they do. Sure, I can acknowledge my attraction, but it’s never this compulsive need to keep eyes on them whenever they’re in the same room as me, like it is with Xander. Not to mention the fact that he’s a man, and I’ve never even looked twice at another man before him. I feel like I should be freaking out more than I am about it, but my attraction to him almost feels…I don’t know... Like a special circumstance, maybe.
“Thank you for all the help you’ve given Xander,” Colette says, pulling my gaze back into the kitchen and onto her, where she’s standing in front of the sink. Hot, soapy water fills one side of the sink as she rinses dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. I wonder if she saw me checking out her nephew just now.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I reply, shaking my head. “Happy to help.”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without him here during my surgery, and then again when I was in the hospital.” She eyes me, like she has more to say, but it takes her a few moments before she continues. “I do wish he got out a little bit more, though, and didn’t worry about me so much.”
“He cares about you. I get the feeling that Xander has a big heart and wants to help those he loves.”
“You’re not wrong about that.” She chuckles. “But I’m starting to feel a little better, and I just wish he’d take some time for himself. You know, get out and do something that made him happy.”
I can’t decipher the look she’s giving me, but I don’t have time to even try to figure it out because Xander strolls back into the room.
“Ready?” he asks, a baby blue beanie on top of his head that wasn’t there when he left.
“Yup, let’s go.”
15
XANDER DAWSON
I’m hyperaware of Cope’s every move. The way his feet sound as they trudge through the grass. The softness of his breathing as we work side by side, feeding the animals. The way I can see him looking at me in my periphery when he thinks I’m not paying attention.
Especially that last one.
By the time we finish everything up, it’s dark. The crickets are loud tonight, and the stars seem brighter than usual. There’s not a cloud in sight. We’re all done, so logically speaking, there’s no reason for Cope to stay here. It only makes sense for him to go back home now…but I don’t want him to. And based on the way he stayed to help with the evening chores after dinner, even though he didn’t have to, I’m inclined to say he doesn’t want to either.
I want to draw this out for as long as possible. Soak up all of him that I can get.
“Wanna have a beer before you head home?” I ask, and then very quickly add, “It’s alright if you don’t want to, or can’t. It’s getting kind of late, so I totally get it if you’d rather?—”
“Xander, slow down.” Cope chuckles. “It’s not even eight yet; I’d hardly call that late. I’d love a beer.”
My shoulders relax a little at hearing him say yes. “Cool. I’ll go grab them from inside if you want to wait out here?”
I don’t know why I phrase that as a question, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”
When I walk inside, it’s quiet and all the lights are off. I doubt my aunt is asleep already, but I’m sure she’s in bed, probably reading or watching some TV, so I keep it quiet as I cross through the house and grab a couple of cans out of the fridge. By the time I step outside, Cope is sitting on the edge of the porch, a cigarette lit, while he pets Aggie, who is, of course, still up here with us.
I don’t know why Cope didn’t sit in the rocking chair behind him, but I’m not complaining as I sit down beside him. We’re close, but not close enough that any part of us is touching—much to my disappointment. Cope is so not somebody I’d normally be interested in. The cowboy, country boy thing has never done it for me. He’s also more dude-bro than I usually care for—not that he’s over the top or anything. Which is hilarious because my college ex-boyfriend was a frat guy.
Cope's multi-faceted. Had I not met him the way I did, had I seen him for the first time on TV for bronc riding, I’d probably assume he’s a douche. Or at the very least, an asshole. His handsome face and the confident way in which he carries himself in the arena give off cocky vibes. Cope’s just not at all who I would’ve expected, and I like that. Ireallylike that.
“You made my aunt’s whole week,” I say with a breathy laugh, breaking the bubble of silence we’ve put ourselves in. “I think it made her happy to get to cook for people.”
“I’m glad you invited me. It was delicious, and I’m glad I got to spend some time with you.”
He glances over at me, and even in just the light from the moon, I can see the sincerity in his dark brown eyes. It makes my chest squeeze and my stomach flutter. It makes me want to lean over and beg him to try to kiss me again, so this time I could let him. I wonder, not for the first, or the second, or even the tenth time, how it would feel to kiss Cope. How his lips would feel against mine. How his mouth would taste. How our bodies would feel lined up together, hands roaming and grappling. Would he be confident in his movements, or nervous and unsure?
“So,” I say, my voice coming out a little croaked, “your parents are in Europe right now?”
Cope nods, taking a drag of his cigarette. My eyes drop, shamelessly watching the way his lips pucker around the filter. The way they part, and I catch a glimpse of his tongue when he pulls it away. The way his eyes squint against the smoke. His nostrils flair slightly. “Yeah, they’re both retired now, and have been making an effort to travel together more.”
I lick my lips, trying to bring some moisture back to my dry mouth. Suddenly, I’m parched, like I haven’t drank anything in weeks. My throat feels like sandpaper, and I can’t rip my eyes away from him. Remembering he said something and is probably waiting for some sort of a response, I nod and smile. “That’s fun. Good for them. Where are they now?”
“When I talked to them last, they were in Paris. It’s somewhere my mom has always wanted to go, but for many years, my dad’s one and only focus was rodeo. It doesn’t leave much time for other shit, you know?”
“Yeah, but you don’t compete the whole year, do you? Like, you have time off to do whatever you want?”
