Done and Dusted: A Rebel Blue Ranch Novel

I didn’t sleep at all last night. After hours of tossing and turning, I took the loss and just got out of bed. I threw on a pair of running shorts, grabbed my running shoes, and headed out the door. I needed to get my mind right.

It was still dark, so it was probably around four in the morning. Every morning, I ran the trail that made a circle around my house and led to The Devil’s Boot. I knew it like the back of my hand, so even though it was dark, I started down the path.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Emmy. I hadn’t seen her for a few days, but it felt like weeks. I didn’t know what this feeling was. I’d never had a woman consume my every waking moment like Emmy did.

I listened to my feet hitting the trail, using the familiar rhythm of my run to try and slow my thoughts down. I didn’t run with headphones, just all the voices in my head.

There were so many things in my thoughts I wanted to sort through, most of them having to do with Emmy, and by association, Gus.

I had always cared about Emmy, and she had been in my life for as long as I could remember. But before these last few weeks, Gus had been a barrier between us. Not a bad one, but still a barrier. Other than a few rides home from school, I really had never been alone with her.

Until now.

Being alone with Emmy was like taking a quick trip away from reality. It was just the two of us, Luke and Emmy. Not Brooks, the Meadowlark screw-up, and Emmy, the Meadowlark sweetheart. What I felt when I was with her was quickly becoming the best thing I’d ever felt.

I’d spent the past few years trying to be something, and there was something about Emmy that made me believe I could get there. Because when she wasn’t being a smart ass, she was thoughtful, kind, and a hell of a listener.

This Emmy was new to me, and I couldn’t help but think it was because I usually brought out the worst in her. I was a fucked up kid. That usually led to me being impulsive and looking for attention—any kind of attention. Getting cut up by Emmy’s sharp tongue included.

I still liked that version of her, honestly.

I didn’t like the way I teased her relentlessly about everything, but I liked the way she fought back. Growing up, people probably would’ve described Emmy as sweet and shy.

Not me. She didn’t show me that side of her.

I would’ve used phrases like “pain in the ass” or “bullheaded.”

When we were younger, even when we weren’t at Rebel Blue, Emmy would always appear near me. If I took a girl out to dinner, Emmy would be at the diner studying with Teddy. If someone threw a house party, Teddy would somehow sneak the two of them in, even though everyone there was at least five years older than them.

It annoyed the hell out of me, and I made sure Emmy knew it.

There was one bonfire night where I saw Emmy mucking it up with a guy who lived a town over and was older than me. Emmy was seventeen, so he was being a fucking creep.

When he got up to go get her a drink, I went up to him and told him if he ever looked at her again, he’d be sorry. After he scurried away, I went to Emmy and said some pretty terrible things—stuff about her dressing like that to get the wrong kind of attention, calling her a stupid kid, and telling her to leave in front of everyone.

I thought I’d been a big enough asshole to knock her down a peg and get her to go home. I knew she was embarrassed. If anyone else had said that stuff to her, it probably would’ve had the desired effect, but since it was me, Emmy came right back and lit me up.

In so many words, she called me a good-for-nothing fuck up, and stormed off.

She wasn’t wrong.

Whenever she burned me like that, I wanted her to do it again. I didn’t know what it was—her honesty, her vitriol, or even just having someone see me for who I thought I really was—that made me so desperate to piss her off.

Now, I was getting to know a different side of Emmy, but I could still see parts of the girl with the razor-sharp tongue in the woman with the tempting mouth.

It was like I had spent my life getting pieces of her, and now I was finally putting the pieces together.

Guess what? There wasn’t any piece of Emmy I didn’t like.

I was so fucked.

I had no idea what to do. On one hand, Emmy was off-limits. Gus would freak out if he found out anything was going on, or had ever gone on, between us. Given my track record with women, I couldn’t even blame him.

It wasn’t like I treated women badly. To be honest, I was never with them long enough to treat them any sort of way. I saw the way my step-dad treated my mom, and early on, I decided I would never be that guy—the guy who constantly needed to have the upper hand, needed to have all the power.

I hated that guy.

Instead, I became the guy anyone could call for a good time.

I mean, who wouldn’t want their little sister to end up with a guy like that?

Not that Emmy and I were ending up together or anything. That wasn’t what I meant.

Gus was my best friend. Who knows what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t fed me half of his peanut butter sandwich in second grade when I didn’t have a lunch.

I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship, but I also didn’t want to miss out on what could happen with Emmy.

Something about her just felt different. It felt good. I wanted to know where it could go, where we could go.

Even if we just ended up being friends. I wanted her in my life, more than the way she already was. That way wasn’t enough anymore.

The first signs of sunrise were peeking through the trees, and I slowed to a stop right outside The Devil’s Boot. The trail ended here, so I would have to turn around to get back home. In the early morning light, The Devil’s Boot almost looked haunted. Honestly, it probably was. At the very least, it was haunted by bad decisions. It was like pieces of the night clung to it, refusing to make way for the light.

There was a big part of me that couldn’t believe it was mine.

I stared at its faded paint. I got this place out of the hole Jimmy had dug for it. There would’ve been a time I would’ve dug the hole even deeper, and believe me, it was fucking tempting to run everything into the ground, to self-destruct. But I didn’t do that anymore, at least, I was trying not to. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

This part of me, who wanted to build a life that was different from my father’s, and had done a damn good job in doing so—at least so far—was a different piece of me Emmy didn’t know. I wanted her to.

I wanted to give her pieces of me, too.

I’d started my run trying to figure out a way to stay away from Emmy. I ended it with the decision that I wasn’t going to stay away from her. At least, not yet.

Not today.

Today, I was going to give Emmy a piece of me she could hold onto.

EMMY

The next morning, there was yet another knock at my cabin door. It woke me up, which meant it had to be pretty goddamn early considering I set my alarm for six o’clock. Why did everyone on the planet insist on waking me up?

The knock came again. I let out a groan and rolled out of bed, then padded toward the door, the hardwood floors cold under my feet.

I opened the door to none other than Luke Brooks. His eyes widened when he took in my appearance. At that moment, I realized I had crawled into bed last night in only a thin white tank top and a pair of panties. Shit.

“One second,” I said, and slammed the door in his face. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn’t even say good morning to him now because my nipples beat me to it.

I rummaged through the pile of clothes on my floor, looking for something that would give me even a little coverage. I found an old, oversized flannel and threw that over my chosen pajamas.

I went back to the door and took a deep breath before opening it again. Brooks was still there. Now that I was semi decent, I had time to take in his appearance. Another pair of perfectly worn jeans, mutilated t-shirt, and backwards baseball cap. His chosen uniform. I was a big fan of the Brooks uniform these days.

Traitor, I thought to myself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“It’s eighty-thirty. I’ve been waiting at the stables for you for an hour.” Oh shit. Had I really slept through all of my alarms? “And I’ve been knocking for ten minutes. I was about to barge in just to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Give me a few minutes and I’ll get ready.”

“We’re not riding today,” he said.

“What?” Then what the hell were we doing?

“I want to take you somewhere. A swimsuit is probably a good idea.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “I have work to do, Brooks.”

“One of the ranch hands is stationed over here today because I’m usually not around, and his schedule didn’t get changed with you coming home. You’re good.” Oh. That was okay.

I guess.

“Tell me where we’re going.”

“No. I already told you more than I should with the swimsuit, but I figured you wouldn’t want to swim in your underwear.”

“So you were thinking about me in my underwear?” His eyes narrowed, probably not appreciating me flinging sarcasm at him this early in the morning. Well, I didn’t appreciate him showing up at my cabin door and telling me what to do.

“Get dressed, Emmy,” he said firmly. He reached inside the cabin and shut the door, my cue to do what he said.

God, he was so demanding sometimes. I wondered if he was like that in bed.

Get a grip, Emmy.

I looked around my cabin, unsure of where I would even find a swimsuit. This place was a fucking disaster. I wasn’t very good at keeping things clean. Sometimes, it was just easier for me to live under the piles rather than face what might be in them. It wasn’t logical, but my brain didn’t really work normally.

It took me a few piles, but I found a red two-piece. The top was sporty, and it had a square neckline that made my collarbones look good.

I slid on a pair of denim shorts and a cropped band t-shirt and made my way back to the door. When I opened it, Brooks was right where I left him, truly looking like a Wyoming poster boy.

“What shoes should I wear?” I asked. Brooks took that as an opportunity to give me a once over. Heat flooded my body as his gaze tracked from my toes all the way up to my eyes.

“Your boots are fine,” he said.

They were by the door, so I turned away from Brooks and bent to put them on. “Ready,” I said as I turned back around. His eyes were still where my ass would’ve been when I was putting my boots on.

His gaze met mine. I raised my eyebrows at him, and Luke Brooks did something I didn’t even know he could do—he blushed.

“Let’s go,” Brooks said. He moved to the side and put his arm out, motioning for me to go in front of him. I shut my cabin door and walked toward his truck, which was parked next to mine. Brooks caught up to me.

“You’ve been riding the past couple of days, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess. I figured you could use a day off.” We made it to the passenger side of the truck and I went to open my door, but Brooks beat me to it.

I couldn’t remember the last time a man had opened my door for me. I climbed into the cab, and he made sure I was fully in before shutting the door. When he climbed in on his side, he grabbed a pair of aviators off the the seat and slid them on.

As if he couldn’t get any hotter.

“That coffee is yours.” He nodded at the cup in the cup holder closest to me. It was from the only coffee shop in Meadowlark. Apparently he could, in fact, get hotter. I took a sip. It was perfect.

“I didn’t know if your coffee order changed, so I just got what I remembered. Drip, lots of cream, no sugar.”

“It’s perfect,” I said. I couldn’t even think of a time when Brooks was around to hear how I took my coffee, but here he was, remembering it like it was nothing. I held the coffee in both hands and let it, and the thoughtfulness that came with it, warm me through.

Brooks’s Chevy K-20 only had a front bench seat, and there was a bag in the middle. Even though I didn’t eat bacon, I recognized the smell. “And there’s a veggie breakfast burrito in there for you.”

“And one with extra bacon for you, I’m guessing?” Brooks had eaten enough meals at my home that I knew the man loved bacon. He and my brothers were bottomless pits when it came to food. When we passed dishes around the dinner table, my dad always made sure I got them first, because if I got them last, there was a good chance there wouldn’t be anything left, even with the giant portions we made.

“Obviously,” he said.

I pulled my burrito out of the bag and started eating. Damn, the coffee shop had really stepped up their breakfast game. This was delicious. “When did you get rid of the C/K?” I asked.

Brooks smiled. “I still have it, but unfortunately she’s no longer in fighting shape. I bought this one off of a Devil’s Boot patron last year.”

“I like it.” It fit him. It was classic and masculine.

“I do, too. Gus tried to talk me into getting a newer truck, but I’m not ready to give up the manual transmission or the windows that actually roll down,” he said. “I’m happy to see you still have your truck.”

Now it was my turn to smile. I loved my truck. I worked hard for it, and it was the first big thing I ever bought myself. “I’ll drive that thing until I physically can’t drive it anymore, and even then, you’ll have to pry the keys out of my cold, dead hands,” I said.

“You know that thing is ugly as hell, right?” he said with a grin.

“So are you,” I quipped. I would not stand for this vehicle slander. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

“You’ll see,” he said, his grin getting bigger. “I think you’re going to like it.”

“What gave you the idea for the field trip?”

“Since you’ve been home, you’ve only been to three places: the ranch, The Devil’s Boot, and Teddy’s house.” He was right.

“All great places,” I said. “Except for The Devil’s Boot. I’m a little iffy on that one.” Brooks flashed me a pointed look.

“Anyway. If you’re going to be in Meadowlark, you might as well find some places to love in Meadowlark,” he said. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to come home, and even though you love your family and you love the ranch, those can’t be the only things you love if you’re going to stay here and be happy.”

A small lump formed in my throat. That was thoughtful. Instead of talking, I took Brooks’s breakfast burrito out of the bag, unwrapped it halfway so he could eat it while driving, and handed it over. It was a small gesture, but I hoped he’d get the point: thank you.

He gave me a quick smile before turning his eyes back to the road, breakfast burrito in hand. How the man could drive a manual transmission and eat a burrito at the same time was beyond me.

I thought about something my dad said the other day: Luke Brooks had a heart the size of the Rockies. I was starting to think it was true, and I wondered why I didn’t notice it before.

Brooks and I drove for a while, probably thirty minutes. I absolutely housed my breakfast burrito, but took a little more time with my coffee, savoring both the drink and the gesture. We made our way through town, which was basically just one road. From there, he got onto the highway.

A few miles later, he took an exit that led to a mountain road. Once we were off the two-lane, he slowed down enough that we could roll the windows down. I was grateful he waited until we were going slower Usually, windows down on the highway made me a little overstimulated. There was just so much impenetrable noise. But having the windows down at this pace was heaven.

Wyoming summer air flooded through the truck, and the sun glinted off the hood. Brooks & Dunn was playing on the radio—one of Brooks’s favorites.

I wondered if his name had anything to do with it.

He drove until the blacktop ended, and then kept going down the dirt road that followed. It went up. We were going into the mountains. After a few switchbacks in the road, Brooks pulled his truck off to the side.

“We’ve gotta walk for a minute. Is that okay?”

“Are you bringing me out here to kill me?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said neutrally.

“Damn. You could’ve at least told me to wear boots with some tread so I could go out with some dignity,” I said. “Now I’m going to be slipping and sliding all over the place while I try to run away.”

“Had to make sure I could catch you,” he said. Why did that make me all…tingly? “But don’t worry, it’s a short walk and it’s mostly flat. We drove up the steep part.”

Brooks got out of the truck, and I was close behind. There was a footpath that led into the trees. It was cooler up here, but still warm.

Brooks and I walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. While we were walking, I looked up. I didn’t think there was anything that felt more magical than the way the sun broke through the trees.

We made our way out of the trees and into a small clearing. It was lush and green with patches of wildflowers throughout. I bet the entire clearing would be full of wildflowers if you came up here in April.

I could hear water running over rocks, so I searched for the source. On the far end of the clearing, there was a small waterfall that broke through the trees. The water from it flowed until it pooled in a spring.

Everything about it was serene. It was like a painting.

“How did you find this place?” I asked. My voice was awestruck.

“Luck. I found it pretty soon after I got my driver’s license.” He was beaming, the wrinkles around his eyes making an appearance as he started walking toward the pool of water. I followed, fighting the urge to run and jump into the crystal clear water.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“How often do you come up here?” I asked.

“As often as I can. Summer is the best because you can swim, but in the winter, the waterfall freezes. It’s incredible.”

“Do you normally come up here by yourself?” I asked. Translation: Do you bring a lot of women up here? Because this would be a damn good place to bring women.

Brooks looked at me, his gaze earnest.

“This place is mine. You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

“Oh,” I said dumbly.

“Yeah, oh,” he said with a smile.

“Not even Gus?”

“Not even Gus.” I got this feeling in my stomach that was becoming a normal occurrence when I was around Brooks. I didn’t know what to think about it, or about the way he was looking at me. After a second, the look on his face changed into something more mischievous, and my stomach flipped.

What was happening to me?

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and brought it over his head. His hat came off with it. He threw it at my face. His shirt smelled like clean laundry and spearmint.

Why was he stripping? Not that I was opposed.

Not even a little bit. God, I was so weak.

It took me a second, but I remembered I was wearing a swimsuit. That was why he was stripping. We were swimming. He slipped off his boots and pulled his jeans down his legs. I tried not to stare, but damn.

Brooks had one of those bodies that was honed by hard work. His muscles weren’t bulging, but they were well-defined, corded, and toned.

Don’t even get me started on the fucking veins running down his forearms.

You couldn’t get a body like his in the gym.

I took him in. Why didn’t he have any tan lines? Was he just naked-baking in the sun? A vision of a naked Brooks flashed through my mind. I couldn’t even chastise myself. I was shameless.

Someone should sculpt this man, I thought.

“Your turn,” Brooks said, pulling me out of my quickly devolving train of thought.

“W-what?” I stammered. I was still staring at his body, not making eye contact.

“You’re not going to swim in all your clothes, are you?” he asked.

Oh. Right.

I started unbuttoning my shorts, but the way Brooks was looking at me, combined with the fact that he’d brought me to “his place,” made this entire situation feel weirdly…intimate.

I locked eyes with Brooks as I slid my shorts down my legs and stepped out of them. I watched him inhale sharply, and his eyes stayed on me as I pulled my t-shirt over my head and dropped it on top of my discarded shorts.

Was I imagining it, or did his nostrils flare?

“You ready?” he asked. His voice had definitely gotten deeper. I just nodded, afraid I would squeak like a mouse if I tried to speak. Brooks stretched his hand toward me. I took it, locking my fingers with his, trying not to think about how good it felt. “Fair warning,” he said, “the water is going to be cold as fuck.”

I let out a laugh.

Brooks wasted no time in pulling me toward the pool, breaking into a jog. I laughed again, louder this time. I reveled in what it felt like to be so free.

When we reached the edge of the pool, I didn’t even think about it, I just jumped.

So did he.

Hitting the water was intense and wonderful.

Brooks was right—it was cold as fuck.

When my head went under the water, I couldn’t hear anything. All I could feel was the water all around me and Brooks’s hand in mine. After the war I’d been having with myself since I got thrown off that horse, my head finally felt quiet.

I made my way back to the water’s surface, and when my head broke through, I took a deep breath. Brooks broke the surface shortly after me and used my hand that he was still holding to pull me to him. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and felt my stomach flip.

Damn, he was smooth.

He had water dripping down his face, and he was smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. It made the crinkles around his eyes deepen, and it made me dizzy.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said sincerely. I’d been here for five minutes, and I already loved it.

“It’s nice. Someone else being here,” he said. He didn’t try to move me, so I stayed in the water with my legs around his waist. We were toeing a line I was desperate to cross. I tried not to think about the way my body was reacting to being with him like this. “How has riding been going the past few days?”

“It’s been going okay. I want to try walking in the barrel pattern, but I don’t know how I’m going to feel, and I know Maple is itching to fly, but I don’t feel like I’m ready yet.”

“Are you going to race when divisionals come to Meadowlark?” God, first Wes, now Brooks. Why were all of the men in my life reading the paper?

“I didn’t know you read the paper.”

“I’m a local business owner. I have to be well-informed on Meadowlark happenings,” he joked.

“I think I want to,” I said. “Race, I mean.” Admitting it to him at the same time I admitted it to myself. I didn’t know how I would do it, but something about racing in my hometown called to me in a way I never thought it would.

“Then you should. You can do it, Emmy. Getting back on the horse is the hardest part.” That felt like something a parent would tell their kid when they fell off their bike. I’d fallen off bikes and horses plenty of times, but this time was just different.

This time had shaken me in a way I didn’t know was possible.

“But I don’t just want to do it,” I said, knowing just racing to race wouldn’t be enough for me. “If I do it, I want to win.” I always wanted to win. It was a problem.

“Then win.” Brooks was still smiling, but this one was more thoughtful.

“You say that like it’s a no brainer.”

“You’re Clementine Ryder. You broke fifteen seconds in a race last year. It is a no brainer.” How did he know that?

“Yeah, and I’m currently averaging like five minutes to make a circle,” I argued. “Just a slight difference.”

“Two weeks ago, you couldn’t get on a horse, so I like your odds,” he said. “Besides winning, why do you want to ride?”

That was a hard question. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I did. I had no doubts about it. I wasn’t sure what it was about this man that pulled out all the words that usually existed solely in my own head, but I wanted to tell him.

“I want a chance to say goodbye,” I admitted quietly. I didn’t even know if Brooks could hear me over the water.

“You deserve that,” he said simply. The way he was looking at me made me want to stay right here, with my legs wrapped around his waist and his arms holding me to him, forever.

“You’re not going to hound me about why I’m giving up my career or tell me I’m making a mistake?”

“No,” he said. “Honestly, I’m curious about it, but the only person who needs to feel good about your decision is you, Emmy.” From the look on his face, I think he really meant that.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, honestly. All I know is I love to ride, but I don’t want riding to be my everything anymore,” I admitted.

“You know, if you don’t like the road you’re on, you can always pave a new one.”

“Who said that? Robert Frost?”

Brooks smiled and shook his head. “Dolly Parton,” he responded.

“Ah, God herself,” I said with a laugh. “I feel like this decision has been a long time coming. My therapist in Denver was worried I was burning myself out.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah. But in a different way than you’re thinking,” I said. He gave me a small nod, giving me permission to keep talking. “A few years ago, I was diagnosed with ADHD. I’ve always felt like I’ve been doing a million things at once, and I felt like I had to give all of those things all of my attention.” I thought about the way being diagnosed had changed things for me. All of the sudden, I could explain why I did things the way I did. It was a revelation for me. It had made things different, but not in the way I expected. I’d hoped the diagnosis would be a fix-all, that I would no longer feel so desperate to be in complete control all the time, that I would stop making impulsive decisions based on the fact that it made me feel like I was in charge of my own life for a minute.

That didn’t happen. Instead, I would kind of know why I was doing something, but I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing it. I kept on doing too many things, and fixating on the things that made me feel like I had power.

“For a while, doing all of these things would feel incredible. It felt like I could accomplish a million things and not drop any balls. I did it in high school, I did it in college, and I did it in my riding career. I went too hard, too fast. It’s like this cycle of hyper fixation. Riding has been more consistent than anything, but when I broke fifteen seconds on that record-breaking ride, it’s like my relationship with riding changed completely.”

Brooks hadn’t taken his eyes off me, listening to everything I had to say.

“It didn’t bring me any joy, but I was still doing it because I couldn’t stop. It was almost impulsive, the way I was training and riding in the months leading up to my accident. About a week before, I hit the wall.

“I lost my motivation. I was too overwhelmed, I was done. I withdrew into my own head. My heart wasn’t in it, and I wasn’t riding to my level. If I was, I probably could’ve done something about the fall. Maybe not stop it completely, but I could’ve at least lessened the blow.”

“The fall wasn’t your fault, Emmy. Shit like that could happen to anyone,” Brooks said. His tone was earnest.

“I know, but I’ve bailed off a horse a million times. I know how to do it safely, and I should’ve done that instead of letting the horse take me for a ride.” I winced when I thought about what it had felt like to hit the fence, and I felt Brooks’s thumb under the water make small circles on my ribcage. His touch was comforting.

“And the past few months, I’ve just been so damn tired. I’ve slept through my alarm more than I ever have. I stopped taking my ADHD meds. I sat in my apartment and didn’t move, letting my life pile up around me, and I didn’t even care.”

“So what made you come back home?” Brooks asked.

“Poor impulse control,” I said honestly. He looked confused, and I felt like I needed to explain. “When I get the impulse to do something, it’s hard for me to control when everything is normal. It’s especially hard when I feel out of control anyway.”

“But does it make you feel more in control?” he asked thoughtfully.

“For a minute, yeah.”

“So do you regret coming home?”

That was a damn good question. I thought about it. Honestly, I thought I would regret coming home, but I didn’t.

“No, I don’t. No matter how I came to that decision, it was the right one.” I saw his shoulders relax the slightest bit at my answer. I didn’t realize they were tense until then.

“Emmy, I want you to know I’m happy you’re here.” He was looking at me that way again. Like I was the only person on the planet, like I was the only thing that mattered.

I could get drunk off that look.

My legs were still wrapped around his waist, and he was holding me to him. I could feel the heat of his hands on my skin even under the water. I leaned in and rested my head on his shoulder.

“You know,” he said. I could feel his lips in my hair. I wanted them everywhere. “I’ve learned more about you over the past two weeks than I have in twenty years.”

“Ditto,” I said. I wanted to know more. “Tell me something else.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked. I wanted to know when he’d changed, but I didn’t think I could ask about it outright. Mostly because I didn’t know if he had changed, if I had just never actually known him, or if it was a combination of the two.

Instead, I said, “You seem different.”

“And?”

“I guess I’m just wondering when that happened.” He was quiet. I hoped I hadn’t said the wrong thing.

“Five years ago,” he said finally. “A bunch of things happened to me at once. Riley was born, Jimmy died, I inherited a bunch of shit I didn’t know my dad even had, and I got put in jail after a pretty bad bar fight.

“Your dad came to bail me out. He said I either be myself, or be Jimmy, but I didn’t get to be both. I don’t know, it’s like that just kind of connected something in my head. I think most things about me are the same. I just stopped actively working against myself.”

My dad told me Brooks was his own worst enemy, so I could see how having something to work for could change that for him.

“Did you at least win the bar fight?” I asked, lightening things up a little.

“Obviously,” he said. “But that fucker did break my nose.”

“Ah, that’s why it’s so fucked up,” I said. I felt his chest vibrate with a laugh. He moved his hands from my waist and unwrapped my legs from around his. Damn, I thought.

“You’re a smart ass, you know that?”

“Me? Never.” Brooks gave me a pointed look. I took that opportunity to hit him with the biggest splash I could muster.

“You little sh—”

Before Brooks could finish his sentence, I started swimming away, knowing he would come after me.

He did.

I lost track of time, but we spent the next while swimming in the springs, taking turns on the rope swing Brooks set up years ago, and talking the whole time.

We were sitting on the shore of the spring drying off when my stomach growled loudly, and Brooks said, “We should probably get out of here.”

I didn’t want to go, but I probably had a million missed calls from Teddy, wondering where I was. Brooks handed me my t-shirt and shorts from the ground. We dressed in silence and started our walk back to the truck.

Brooks laced his fingers through mine. At that moment, I made my decision. I was going to kiss this man.

Today.