25. Walker
Walker
W hen we arrive at the arena, everything looks different since most of the trucks and trailers are gone. I hold my breath, waiting to see Jonas with my dad’s truck and camper, but thankfully he’s among those that have already left.
We pull up to the makeshift stable and see that half of it is dismantled already.
“They don’t waste any time, do they?” I ask, coming to stand beside Phoenix.
My voice snags the attention of a couple cowgirls carrying saddles toward a truck backed up to the arena entrance. One of them makes a beeline straight for us and her friend follows.
The girl in the front is in her early twenties, and naturally, I think she’s coming to say hello or ask for an autograph… my autograph since I’m the one still competing, but to my surprise, she props the saddle on her hip and holds out a hand for Phoenix to shake.
“Oh my God, Phoenix Harding! I’d heard your name over the speaker, but I missed you the other night when you were here. I’m Letty and I’m a huge fan!” the woman gushes.
Her friend pipes up behind her, giggling. “If by huge fan, you mean that picture you printed from a decade ago has been your go-to?—”
Letty turns and claps a hand over her friend’s mouth, shouting with a southern twang, “We ain’t even been drinkin’! Don’t you dare spill my secrets!” Letty’s face is bright red as she finally places the saddle in the dirt and turns back to Phoenix. She touches his arm and wow , I do not like it.
“I’m a local rider. Maybe we could, uh, get together sometime,” Letty says, shrugging a shoulder, feigning bashfulness.
Bitch, please, you aren’t fooling anyone.
Phoenix’s gaze flits between her hand and her face before a slow smile creeps along his features. His face is softer than any time he looks at me. He’s less guarded with this stranger and that cuts deeply.
Unable to stand it any longer, I speak up. “Well, we stay pretty busy on the farm and if you’ll excuse us, we need to get the horses home. It’s been a long four days for them.”
Finally, the cowgirl and her friend notice me.
“Walker DeVille? I thought you left already. Sorry to hear about your wrist.” She nods at my brace like she’s not really all that sorry, before turning her attention immediately back on Phoenix.
“Got your phone? I’ll just put my number in it and you can use it, you know, if the mood strikes.”
Nope. Nuh-uh. No way.
Of course I have to have the hots for a fucking bisexual guy…meaning I have twice the competition.
Luckily for me, I’m an excellent competitor.
I grab Phoenix by the back of his t-shirt and start walking toward the barn .
“Sorry, Letty, we’ve got work to do. Feel free to slide into his DMs though with all the other girls.”
“ Walker, ” Phoenix hisses as he tries to shake me off of him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Is he actually mad that I’m saving him from this mistake?
The thought pisses me off even more than I already am, and I release his shirt.
“Fine. I didn’t think buckle bunnies were your thing anymore, but I guess I was wrong.
While you’re signing up for her OnlyFans, I’ll be over here loading your horses. ”
“It sounds like you need to hold your horses,” Letty fires with attitude. She and her braided pigtails can fuck all the way off.
“Cute. How long you been sitting on that one?” My voice is dripping with sarcasm this girl doesn’t deserve.
Rationally, I know I’m being an asshole.
On the way over here, it felt like I was on top of the world.
Three whole months to convince Phoenix we’re worth giving a shot.
I hadn’t even gotten to the other end of Cloud 9 before this girl comes in, reminding me that everyone wants Phoenix. And he could want them too.
“About as long as I plan to film myself sitting on Phoenix’s face once you let go of his leash.” I almost laugh. Ballsy to capitalize on the OnlyFans comment with two guys she’s just met, but I bite it back.
I’d hate for her to think I like her.
Between us, Phoenix blows out a breath. “Will you two knock it off? You sound like exes.”
Letty giggles innocently and then narrows her eyes at me. “Never met him before, but he sure does seem to have it out for me.”
Phoenix’s eyes narrow next and slam into mine.
If what I felt for Phoenix was just lust, I’d let this chick have her fun so long as I got mine too. If all I was after was another roll in the hay, I’d have kept my mouth shut .
I never planned to reenter Phoenix’s life.
I never planned to get injured, lose my coach, come out to my coach, or end up as Phoenix’s roommate, either.
But now that I have, I’ll be damned if I let some buckle chaser ruin my dreams just so she can brag to her friends about banging the Phoenix Harding.
However, seeing as making an absolute fool of myself isn’t helping my case any, I grumble, “Do whatever you want. I’m going to start getting the horses ready.”
I try like hell not to watch Phoenix as I put the bridle on the bored bronc in the stall, but it’s a lost cause. My eyes drift to him anyway and I grit my teeth when he bends down and hands Letty the saddle she sat in the dirt before giving her a side hug, a selfie, and sending her on her way.
I’m so unreasonably angry that when Phoenix joins me in the stall, I don’t even look at him. Nor do I say anything other than yes, no, or sure the rest of the day.
After a decent night’s sleep, although I still have to take the narcotics to get to sleep—which I hate—I wake up feeling terrible about yesterday.
I’m not usually so jealous or possessive, but something in Letty’s flirty tone and unabashed desire for a booty call had my blood boiling, even though that’s not the first time I’ve watched someone come on to Phoenix, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.
I can’t reenter his life and start making demands like never interact with anyone who flirts with you.
I also need to be a man and face Alexis and Colton.
I grab my phone to fire off a message to Alexis about setting up a time and place to meet, but then I realize it’s only five a.m. and I don’t want to wake her.
The house is quiet as I slip into my athletic pants.
Not ideal for farm work, but I still can’t manage the button on my Wranglers, so boots and Reebok joggers it is.
I thread my injured wrist through my t-shirt first and easily pull it over my head.
It’s supposed to be ninety-four today, but I make sure I always have a shirt on around Phoenix.
I’m not ready for that conversation yet because I doubt he’s going to be thrilled when more of my secrets come to light.
The house is quiet as I move about and Phoenix’s bedroom door is closed, telling me he’s still asleep. I don’t quite have my apology for yesterday worked out, so I tiptoe downstairs, avoiding the creaking stair, grab my coffee, and get my ass in the barn to start the chores.
A little while later, I hear Phoenix’s truck leave, but he doesn’t say goodbye. It’s strange how I both breathe easier and feel disappointment, knowing he’ll be gone until tomorrow.
I finish my work around one. It takes me three times as long as it should and when I come in, I’m exhausted, I smell, and my fucking hand and wrist are swollen and throbbing. Honestly, those last two sensations are only appreciated in my cock.
I fight the urge to snoop through Phoenix’s stuff. I want to be a good house guest, and just because he’s letting me stay here doesn’t mean his life is any of my business, but twenty minutes after my shower, I find myself wandering into his room.
I don’t open any drawers or search the cabinets in his bathroom.
No, I’m much creepier than that. I open his closet and inhale his scent as it permeates the air in here.
It’s far more potent than the sheets I’m sleeping on, and I just want a minute to be surrounded by his things as if they’ll make me closer to the man, himself.
I bring his shirts to my face and hold them there.
I never knew it was possible to be jealous of clothes, but here I am. Jealous of a cotton t-shirt because it gets to brush against his smooth, tanned skin all day. Okay, so maybe I have a teeny problem with jealousy, but it’s new…and only for Phoenix.
After creeping myself out, I head back downstairs, grab a glass of lemonade and text Alexis while enjoying the A/C.
Walker:
Hey, Alexis. I think I’m ready to set a time/place to meet up with you guys if you’re still comfortable with it?
Alexis:
Walker, hi! Yes, of course. We’re short staffed at the vet clinic where I work, and I have a group project due soon. My group is meeting this weekend to try and wrap things up.
I know two weeks feels like a long time, but is there any chance you’ll still be here then?
Walker:
Yeah, I’m actually staying through September, so it’s whatever works best for you.
Alexis:
Okay, great! I’ll call you when we get a little closer to come up with the plan, okay? Gotta run.
I know it’s only a text message, but still, Alexis seems so calm. Maybe it’s because she already has her place solidified in Colton’s life, but I’m glad she’s not freaking out like me.
Does he think I left him on purpose?
Does he think I don’t love him?
Do I love him?
Fuck. I need to process this shit, and I need to do it before I meet him. He’s a child. The weight of this meeting shouldn’t be on his shoulders.
I’m not exactly sure what Phoenix does when he gets home from a shift, but I take a chance on him being like me and wanting food and some time to decompress before being able to sleep.
I find my way around his kitchen the following morning and painstakingly make scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon before realizing that maybe he isn’t even coming straight home.
Oh well, at least I’ll eat well. I’m snapping a picture on my phone to send him and show him what he’s missing right as I hear his truck pulling up outside.
My heart flutters in my chest at his return and I berate myself for being such a teenage girl.
At the sound of the back door opening, I suddenly feel foolish. What am I, a fifties housewife?
But it’s too late to make it look like anything other than what it is.
At the sight of Phoenix, I lose all thoughts other than him. He has purple circles under his eyes and a bruise on his cheekbone. His hat is on backwards, like always, and he has what looks like a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Oh, shit, Phoe. Are you okay?” I rush to his side, not sure what I can do to help.
He looks at the table set with food.
“Is this for me?”
“Well, uh, yeah, but like, if you normally come home and go straight to bed, there’s no pressure to eat it.” I rub the back of my neck left-handed.
“I’m fucking starving. Thank you.” He drops his bag in the middle of the floor and takes a seat at the table, immediately spooning eggs onto his plate and reaching for the bacon.
I up-nod my chin toward him. “What happened to your face?”
“Some new guy let go of the fucking fire hose,” he explains with a mouthful. “Fuck, this is good.”
“Don’t you guys wear helmets and shit?” I ask, angry that some amateur is making Phoenix’s already dangerous job even more so.
“Yeah, the hose knocked mine off on the first pass and connected the second time before we could get it under control.” He seems so unbothered by this…but not me. I’m extremely bothered.
“So, you had to go to a fire last night?”
“Mmmhmm,” he mumbles around his bite of food.
“Were there, like, people inside?” Honestly, being a firefighter sounds hot in theory, but when it’s the person you lo…the person you care about… racing into a compromised building that’s spewing flames, the sexiness pales in comparison to the anxiety.
“No, they got out. Had to rescue a couple dogs though.” He says this with total nonchalance as he continues shoveling food in his mouth, making me so glad I prepared it.
“Isn’t that scary as fuck?”
He shrugs. “Isn’t climbing on the back a fifteen-hundred-pound bucking horse scary as fuck?”
He has a point, but somehow that doesn’t seem as bad. Perhaps it’s because I know how to do that, and I don’t know shit about fighting fires.
Sensing my need to change the topic, Phoenix takes it somewhere I wasn’t prepared for .
“I thought that call in Wyoming was bullshit. If the judges didn’t catch your foot position during the ride, the score should stand. That’s on them, not you.”
I can’t help my grin. “You watch my rides?” Phoenix hesitates to answer so I goad him a little. “C’mon, Phoe, you aren’t the liar in this relationship. Don’t start now.”
He rolls his tired eyes. “We aren’t in a relationship. And I’ve seen a few.”
“A few, huh? Maybe we could pull them up and you could critique them. Tell me where I need to improve.” I throw it out there almost as a joke, and maybe to make him a little uncomfortable, but actually, it’s a great idea.
“Um, yeah, sure,” he reluctantly agrees.
After breakfast, Phoenix goes upstairs to sleep and I clean up the house. Barn chores won’t require any more work until the evening feeding.
I’m on the couch when Phoenix comes back downstairs a while later.
“I thought you’d be going stir crazy and want to be outside,” he says, sleep still thick in his voice.
“It’s hotter than Satan’s ball sac, and if I can’t ride, I see no reason to be that miserable.”
“Well, the house and the barn look great, thank you.”
I feel the heat of my blush in my cheeks as Phoenix walks around the couch and sits on the opposite end.
“It’s what I’m here for,” I point out, like my insides aren’t fucking preening at his compliment.
“You, uh, want to watch a movie or something?” he asks, a bit of hesitation in his voice.
He isn’t making eye contact with me, and I can tell we’re both nervous about how this is going to go. It’s the first week in what will be our “normal” routine, and it’s clear neither of us thought through how our down-time would play out .
Choosing to be a wiseass like he and I tend to do in these situations, I crack a wide smile. “Sure. You got Brokeback Mountain?”
“Oh, fuck all the way off.” Phoenix rolls his eyes, but laughs as he says it, and the tightness in my chest lightens ever so slightly. “That shit’s depressing.”
He ends up picking one of the newer James Bond movies, and when he gets up for a drink, I stretch out along the couch. Coming back to sit down, he eyes my legs on his side and waits for me to move them.
I don’t.
“You only have one couch in here, deal with it,” I say like it’s no big deal that I’m all in his space.
“I only have one couch because I live alone. ”
“Not for the next three months.” I grin.
“Don’t remind me.” The corner of his mouth twitches and I know he’s fighting to hide his smile.
When he picks my legs up, sits down, and allows my legs to stay draped across his lap, my heart rockets to the moon.