16
Colt Bishop
Every year, without fail, my dad celebrates his birthday by going over to Conrad’s ranch for a barbecue slash bonfire. It’s a yearly thing that’s gone on for as long as I can remember, but the last few years I’ve missed it due to the rodeo schedule. Well, this year is a little different. This year, I get to help my dad celebrate another year older, and I’m pumped about it. Most of my friends are gone, but Whit should be there tonight, and I’m kind of wanting to drink. It’s been a minute since I’ve let loose and allowed myself to have some fun. After the accident, I couldn’t drink all that much because of the meds I was on, but now that I’m mostly off them, I see no reason why I can’t go a little crazy.
To avoid being stuck at Conrad’s or having to drink and drive home, I decided to carpool with my folks. My dad will throw back a few cold ones, but my mom has never been much of a drinker, aside from the occasional glass of wine with dinner or a mimosa at brunch with her friends. There’s also a big likelihood that William will be there tonight, given howclose he is with my dad, and I’m giddy thinking about getting to see him. It’s been almost a week since I brought cinnamon rolls over to his house, and we haven’t seen each other since. I have his phone number now, thanks to my unsuspecting mother, and I considered texting him a couple of times, but in the end, decided it would be silly to do that.
Whether he wants to admit it or not, there’s something between us. I don’t know what exactly, but it’s something. A connection, chemistry, fire. It’s there even if he’s blissfully ignorant. I’m not blind; I see the way he looks at me. The memories are in the forefront of his mind the same way they are mine. I know it.
Taking a left, my dad pulls onto the long, winding gravel road that leads to Conrad’s place. Over sixty thousand acres, his ranch is one of the largest in the state. As a matter of fact, I think it may be the largest in all of the Rocky Mountains too. It’s been in his family for generations. As a teenager, I remember working most of my summers here. At the time, it belonged to Conrad’s parents who have since passed away, but I have memories of many long, hot, summer days doing whatever it was that Mr. Strauss needed around here. No two days were ever the same, but he made sure to work us all hard and tired by the end of the day. Mrs. Strauss frequently made dinner for everybody working, and we’d all gather round the long picnic tables in the backyard and eat like a family.
Those summers taught me so much, about myself and about the value of hard work. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for this ranch, and I know almost every single one of my friends would agree. This ranch holds so many memories; good, bad, funny, embarrassing, you name it.
Dad parks the truck beside another rig in front of the barn.Based on the people mulling around, it’s safe to say that we aren’t the first to arrive. Birthday streamers hang along the expanse of the barn doors, and I just know that’s my mother’s doing. She left earlier this morning to get a manicure, and I’m willing to bet she made a pit stop here.
Climbing out of the truck, I spot Whit and his boyfriend, Reggie, immediately. They’re over by the coolers. Noticing me, Whit offers an awkward-looking smile and nods his chin by way of greeting as I approach them.
“What’s up, guys?” I murmur as I grab an ice-cold beer out of the cooler. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long,” Whit offers. “Maybe twenty minutes.”
“You guys eaten yet? I’m starving.”
“Nah, not yet.”
“Well then, let’s go,” I say as I start in the direction of where the food’s at. There’re a couple of long tables covered in birthday table cloths that have enough food to feed an army. Chips, dips, fruit, cheese, meats, buns and, of course, the grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. There’s something for everyone, and I waste no time piling way too much onto a paper plate.
Once all three of us have some food, we amble across the yard and sit on the porch. It’s the best spot because it allows us to people watch, just the way I like it. Looking around, I spot William over by where Conrad’s grilling. My stomach dips, and I can’t help but smirk at seeing him over there. Dressed casually in a pair of sage green Chino shorts and a white short-sleeve button-up shirt, William looks good enough to eat. His hair is styled back, and his ocean eyes are hidden behind a pair of black shades.
My goal for the night is to get him alone somehow. To mess with him and rile him up. It’s so fun to do, and I knowColt after a few beers will greatly agree.
“You’re staring,” Whit murmurs, low enough that I don’t think Reggie heard him. I turn my head, meeting his gaze as a grin splits my face. Being this close to him, I can see the dark circles under his eyes that aren’t easy to spot, considering he wears glasses all the time.
“Mind your business,” I tease.
“Behave,” he throws back, arching a brow.
Chuckling, I shrug. “We’ll see.”
I dig into my food, starting with the burger I loaded up high. It tastes as good as it smells, and I already know I’ll be having at least one more before the night ends.
Movement catches ahead, and when I glance up, I spot my dad over with William and Conrad now. They’re laughing about something, and my dad throws an arm around William’s shoulders, and for the first time, a pang of guilt sucker punches me right in the gut. I watch them interact for a moment, their closeness, and it’s like I finally understand William’s hesitancy. What would my father say if he knew I slept with one of his best friends? What does that say about me?
“You okay?”
My head snaps toward Whit, and I nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Once we finish eating, the three of us grab another drink before we make ourselves comfortable in front of the firepit. It’s not lit yet, but it will be as soon as the sun starts to set.
“Do you remember all the bonfires we had here during the summers when I was in high school?” I ask Whit.
He nods. “How could I forget?”
Whit’s older than me by nearly ten years. By the time I was in high school, he was already married to Conrad, but even then, they both lived here. They stayed in the loft above thebarn until Conrad’s folks died, then they moved into the house.
“God, there were some good fucking times we had here.”
“Do you remember that time Shooter bought that moonshine off old man River?” Whit laughs.
