“Right then,” Chis mumbled, following behind them.
Sam pointed up to a hedge in the distance, “James—”
Before he could finish suggesting the bet that James knew was coming, James took off toward it.
The hooves stampeded against the grass, beating out the rhythm ofJames's heart. The hedge looked just above five feet high. It was high, but really, not that high. Not too high that he wouldn’t risk the jump.
Blood pounded through his limbs. He blinked to focus and clear the glassy gloss coating his eyes. A bead of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. The moment was upon him. He couldchoose to direct Indra around the hedge, meet up with his three friends, and arrive at the club together.
Or.
Or he could risk it. He could jump the ruddy obstacle in his way, triumph over it, and beat his friends to the club by a minute or two. Worth it.
Not that beating them to the club was a factor in his decision. Really, the only factor was, could he do it? The answer was, probably. That was good enough.
He pressed into Indra, Hindu god of lightning and thunder, drawing nearer to his mane, and leapt.
***
JAMES SAT IN WHITE’S already nursing a whiskey neat by the time the other three strolled in. Chris was shaking his head the moment he caughtJames's eye. Sam had a goofy grin on his face, and Wes had a questioning eyebrow. Singular. Just the one, as if to say,Really, James. Did you need to put your life at risk the day before my wedding?
And if Wes had asked the question aloud, James would have answered in the affirmative. As it was, he just gave a smirk and a nod.
“Welcome. Took you all long enough,” James said, lifting his glass in greeting.
“Yes, well not all of us feel compelled to engage in life-threatening activities at every turn.” That was said by Wes in another condescending tone. Similar to what James would imagine an older brother might sound like.
“Good jump, James.” Sam slapped him on his back applauding his achievements.
“Was that really seven feet high?” Chris asked.
James chuckled. “I could say it was, but I’d be lying. It was closer to five.” He shrugged off the praise because he didn’t take those actions in order to receive adulation. “I’ve done it before.”
“Yes. Well,” Chris shook his head, “looked pretty high from where I was.”
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t take the leap then?” James asked. And of course the question was meant to refer to the hedge. And the horse. And the recklessness. But something in Chris's eyes conveyed that his interpretation of the question went much deeper than jumping horses.
“Yes. I suppose I am…” his voice trailed off.
Sam started slapping everyone on the back, telling them to sit and order drinks. He was attempting to harness whatever energy Chris was about to drain from them.
“Piquet, right?” Sam plowed forward.
“Before we eat?” Chris looked up from whatever rabbit hole his mind had fallen down, and all James could think was that someone could probably write a book about the journey his mind had just traversed.
“I’m famished. Food before cards,” Wes stated.
So the four ordered food and quickly shoveled it into their mouths as fast as only healthy, male adults who had just finished a competition of sorts could do.
After the last few bites were taken, they each relaxed back in their chairs while Chris shuffled a deck of cards. Even after the meal, as short as it had been, Chris’s mind hadn’t entirely pulled free from the rabbit hole.
“You shouldn’t have jumped, James.”
“Stuff!” James stated a bit more harshly, a bit more defensively than he ought.
But Chris wasn’t letting up. Ever the quiet one, he was choosing this battle to fight. “It’s Wes’s wedding tomorrow. Something could have happened.”
“Nothing happened.” James wanted to scoff. He wanted to shrug it off. It shouldn’t be an issue. He was fine. But Chris was deceptively tenacious.
