Chapter 9 Colton
COLTON
Cash Thornwood:
Fuck. I was hoping Cash would be ready and waiting so I could just grab him from the ranch and we could go on our ride. I finish driving down the driveway of Thornwood ranch and kill the engine once I find my normal parking spot.
Most of them—Grandpa Ben, Luke and his wife, Rhett’s parents, Eli and Tierney—seem to be in the main house having dinner. Makai, Rhett’s younger cousin, is in the ranch-hand house, and Dawson’s light in his barn loft is on. Up above, is a shadowy figure sitting on top of the barn.
I squint my eyes, trying to make out which Thornwood is crazy enough to be on the fucking roof.
Rhett?
How the fuck did he get on the roof?
He’s sitting there, on top, staring out at the fields, lost in a daydream.
How do I get up there?
I go inside the barn and up into the loft space where Dawson’s studio apartment is. It takes me a few moments to find the hatch that leads me up onto the roof.
Grabbing onto the rungs of the ladder, I make my way up to find him, pulling myself up and onto the roof.
He hasn’t heard me yet. He’s got his elbows on his knees, hands in-between, fidgeting.
Whatever he’s thinking about has completely taken him out of himself, and whatever stick is always up his ass seems to have removed itself. He seems so…calm.
Is this what Rhett Thornwood looks like when nobody’s watching?
I’m so mesmerized by how relaxed he looks that I completely neglect what surrounds us. The land and sky open up into an endless stretch of land, the sun just starting to dip low, turning everything gold.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, stepping out beside where he’s sitting.
He turns to look at me, slightly startled. “What are you doing here?” he asks, repositioning himself.
“Trying to figure out how the hell you got up here. And why,” I say.
He smirks, and I take that as my green light to sit down beside him, settling close enough that our thighs press together and neither of us move to fix it.
I wouldn’t let him if he tried.
I pull my pack of cigarettes out my pocket, tapping one loose before offering the pack to him. He takes one out, and I hand over the lighter for him to light his first.
I watch the slow inhale and how his chest expands as the tension bleeds out his shoulders. Handing the lighter back to me, I brush my fingers against his to see if he pulls back, but he doesn’t.
Finally, I light my cigarette too, and we sit like that for a while—quiet, other than the inhales and exhales of cigarette smoke, watching the sun drop lower and lower.
“You come up here a lot?” I ask finally, exhaling smoke into the cooling air.
“Used to,” he says. “When I needed to think.”
I glance over at him. “What’s so big that you need to come here and hide right now?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Some dude won’t leave me alone, and I could use the peace and quiet.”
Something about that pulls a grin out of me. “Yeah?”
His eyes flick to mine—steady. A small smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah.”
I hum, taking another drag, letting the silence stretch between us again.
It’s not empty. Well…not for long.
He breaks the silence, using the last few rays of sunlight to his advantage. “Gonna build a house eventually, out past the south field,” he says, nodding off in the distance. “Same as my brothers—keep it on the property.”
I follow his gaze, trying to picture it.
“How big?” I ask quietly, waiting to see where this goes.
“Big enough.”
“For whom?”
He glances at me again, something quiet in his expression. “The family I decide to have.”
I push, not willing to let him tell me if it’s a future I don’t fit in. Annoyance bubbles in my gut. I flick ash off the edge of the roof, jaw tightening slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’ll need it.”
He turns to face me, exhaustion written all over his face. “Don’t start, Colt.”
I shrug, moving my eyes forward. “I know you’ll need a huge house for the plans you have. Maybe you’ll be just like your dad and his before him. A big family. Ranch life. All that shit you keep in neat little boxes.”
He studies me for a second too long and tension coils in my muscles as I wait for his bullshit excuses to come. “Is that the worst thing I could do?”
I let out a short laugh. “Make carbon copies? Well…No. No, I guess not…But the thing about boxes is…People spend their whole life climbing into them, then wonder why it feels so small.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not talking about you specifically.” I take a drag. “Just in general.”
“Look at how big my family is. Why wouldn’t I want that? To build a house like my grandfather, where I get to see my own grandkids run around. I want the love that he and my dad found—the wife, the house, the kids…Everything I’m supposed to.”
“You know you don’t always have to have things because you think you’re supposed to, Rhett. People are allowed to be different, and be loved for being different.”
“I’m not different, Colt,” he replies.
My heart beats wildly in my chest as I shake my head. “You say that like being anything other than this fantasy you built up in your head is wrong, but it’s not.” I hold my hands up to stop him from thinking I’m trying to fight. “You’ll never find happiness in a fucking box, Rhett.”
“Maybe I like my box.”
“Maybe that particular box isn’t big enough for both of us.” With that, I look at him again—really look at him—and when I do, I don’t see any judgement.
“It isn’t meant to fit you. You don’t have to want the same things as me, Colt,” he continues, pointing to the same plot of land from earlier. “You see that place? It’s mine. Been mine since the day I was born, and I will make them proud of me.”
And there it is. Rhett Thornwood, dreaming of living in some dollhouse. Putting up walls so tall he can’t see what’s on the other side.
Make them proud?
He really believes that making his family proud means he’ll never be satisfied…
How could someone want to live like that?
Cash finally pulls up on his bike, ending the agonizing few minutes where I didn’t have a response to Rhett’s statement. He takes off his helmet and looks up at us from our bike. “What the hell are you guys doing up there?” he asks.
Rhett stands up and starts to make his way down, ignoring his brother. I scratch the back of my head. “I was just admiring the view.”
“Sorry I was late. I had to drop someone off.”
“Do you always have to get your dick wet?”
Cash laughs as Rhett and I make our way down to him.
“You going to that party tonight, Rhett?” Cash asks.
Rhett shakes his head. “No. Molly already asked. I’m going to go crash after today.”
Cash sighs. “I wish you had someone you actually enjoyed life with, bro. You know she just isn’t it for you. It’s okay to admit it.”
Fuck yeah, Cash. Tell him how he deserves better. How he deserves me.
Rhett starts to walk off. “I’m perfectly content, Cash. And you aren’t exactly the one that should be talking to me about finding someone to settle down with. You haven’t had a girlfriend longer than two weeks.”
Cash shrugs. “I know what I’m looking for, and it isn’t in Cedarbrook. Doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.” Cash looks over at me. “You ready?”
I nod and walk back over to my bike, hopping onto it. I grab my helmet and put it on before connecting our Bluetooth. “So, where the fuck are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Then Cash mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out before putting his bike in gear and tearing out of the driveway.
I follow behind him, down their long dirt driveway and onto the main road that leads back into town. I’m so happy I brought my bike down from college and that I’m actually able to ride it with Cash.
The live wire under my skin finally eases as the wind whips against my helmet.
I’ve been so good, it fucking hurts.
Everything has been normal on the surface, boring even. I’ve been good playing Rhett’s stupid fucking game of waiting, but I’m tired of waiting—of toeing a bullshit line as if we’re just two strangers who share the same workspace. Not two people who could be more.
He’s mine.
I push out in front of Cash, and cause a major gap between us.
Cash’s voice rings around my head. “Hey, can you slow down for a second so we can ride together? Damn, man, what’s got you wound so tight?”
Your pussy-ass brother.
I almost tell him every fucking detail, Rhett’s feelings be damned. Maybe Cash could tell him how fucking stupid this game of pretend he’s playing with me is. Instead, I gun it, arms out, wind ripping past me, teeth gritted, heart pumping.
Cash speeds up to keep pace with me, the dark stretching ahead, headlights the only light for miles. No words, just the roar of engines.
Back and forth our bikes hedge past each other, until I take the lead, letting the thrill edge me into recklessness. I drift into the center line, let the tires fight, and let the night feel like it could swallow me whole.
After a while, I glance back. Cash is several car-lengths behind me, phone glowing in his hand.
“Hey, dumbass, don’t you know you’re not supposed to text and drive? Catch up.” I slow my pace just enough to keep us together, itching to gun it again.
Ignoring my care for his safety, he asks, “Do you wanna go to a party? Bonfire and beer provided. I just want to go check it out and see who’s there. We aren’t too far out.”
“Lead the way.”
Cash flies past me, and I follow down a dirt road that seems endless. One more turn, then the field appears, swallowed by the woods. There’s trucks, cars, and scattered lights.
Where the actual fuck are we going?
Stripping my helmet off, I set it on my seat. “So…Where to now?”
Cash gestures toward the trees. “Through here. We all got tired of farmers complaining and cops showing up, so we found this place. Creepy, but cool as shit. You’ll see.”
Trailing after him, the forest closes in, branches snagging my jacket. The dark swallows every sound, like it’s holding its breath—waiting for something.
Join the club.