Chapter 27 #3
I relax atop shifting muscles, making a grab for the rope that’s been swaying in time with Gallie’s strides at the exact wrong moment.
A bird flies out from one of the oaks that lines the pasture. Gallie spooks, turning to the right with a pivot that would make a barrel racer proud. I’m not one, and my reflexes are too slow. My vantage point shifts as I fly through the air and then land in a heap on the hard ground.
My shoulder takes the brunt of the impact. I roll onto my back, staring up at the clear sky as I readjust to being on the grass, rather than flying along above it. One by one, I shift all my limbs and muscles. Aside from my shoulder, the only bruise is to my pride.
If Gramps were here, he’d be bent over laughing as soon as he realized I was all right. He always preferred to watch others ride than hop aboard a horse himself.
I love riding. It’s been a part of my life for longer than I can remember. But the number of hours I’ve racked up on horseback were more a product of necessity than pleasure. One of many tasks I took on a long time ago simply because there was no one else who could, or would.
All of a sudden, I have a chance to drop all of them. To decide if they’re chores I still want to do now that I have a choice not to.
A terrifying, exciting prospect.
My view of the dusky sky is interrupted by a black muzzle. Gallie has returned to my side, realizing I was left behind.
I stand slowly, both to avoid startling the massive stallion and because hitting the ground at that speed felt like I imagine being smacked by a speeding train would.
I don’t bother trying to climb back on his back.
I hobble back toward the barn. Gallie is happy to amble alongside me.
He kept running for several minutes after dumping me, and it appears to have been a more effective form of exercise than the controlled canter around the training track that’s his normal running routine.
After depositing Gallie in his stall, I head inside for my second shower of the day. The water pressure feels heavenly against my tired muscles. I dress in jeans and a T-shirt, then pad downstairs to the kitchen.
A quick glance inside the fridge reminds me why I ate cold cereal for dinner last night. I heave out a sigh and pull a loaf of bread from the freezer.
Two slices pop out from the toaster a few minutes later, ready to be slathered in peanut butter.
I take a seat in my usual chair at the kitchen table, slowly munching on the glorified snack.
I finish eating but keep sitting. Today’s checklist is complete.
Horses, work, horses, eating. All done. I could read.
I could watch television. I could continue sorting through piles.
There’s only one thing I want right now. Rather than shove it to the back of my mind, I embrace it. And the same reckless energy that made me climb on an animal weighing more than a ton with nothing more than a flimsy rope makes me stand, grab the truck’s keys, and head out the door.
* * *
The truck wheezes to a stop outside 52 Edgewood Drive. I sit for a moment, staring at the house Caleb has spent the past three years living in. It’s larger than I expected it to be; a three-story brick structure with a neatly trimmed lawn out front.
Every light in the house looks like it’s on, so I won’t be waking anyone up. I shouldn’t be surprised. Pretty sure I’m the only person in the state of Kentucky under the age of forty who goes to bed at ten p.m. on a regular basis. It’s almost midnight now.
I climb out of the car, grabbing the bag of clothes I hastily threw together and slamming the door shut behind me. The sound echoes on the empty street. I walk toward the brick house, startling when a loud clang comes from the right.
“Sorry!” I glance over at a guy who looks to be my age, with sandy blond hair and a friendly smile, who’s standing with two overflowing trash bins. The lid for one is now lying on the cement sidewalk. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, loosening my grip on the bag I’m holding. “Here, let me get it.” I approach him, grabbing the fallen lid and plopping it back atop the bin.
“Thanks.” He gives me a wide grin.
“No problem.” I turn to leave.
“Are you coming back to campus early?”
I spin back to face him. “Uh, no. I’m not a student here. Just visiting someone.”
“That makes more sense. I definitely would remember seeing you around.”
Friendliness turns flirtatious. I smile, awkwardly. This is what I get for being a good Samaritan, I guess. I’m out of practice when it comes to dissuading flirting. Guys weren’t exactly swarming me in high school, and there’s not a single person in Landry unaware I’m dating Caleb Winters.
“Good luck with those.” I nod to the bins.
He smiles before continuing to the curb. “Hope to see you around.”
I walk up to the front door of Caleb’s house and knock.
“Yeah?” The door swings open, revealing a shirtless guy with dark blond hair chewing what looks like a stick of jerky. He looks me up and down, then smirks.
“Is Caleb home?” His truck is in the driveway, but I suppose he could have gotten a ride with someone. I probably should have texted him a heads-up, but I liked the idea of surprising him.
“It would be great if you could spread the word around campus that other people live here, too,” the guy replies. “Not just Winters.”
“If I went to school here, I’d definitely consider doing that,” I reply.
His face crinkles in confusion. “Where do you go to school?”
“Could we have this conversation while I’m not standing out on the street?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Come on in.” He pulls the door open, and I step inside.
The outside of the house may not look like it’s inhabited by a group of college guys, but the interior definitely does. Sports equipment is hung on pretty much every visible surface: railings, doorknobs, and a couple of chairs. A pair of socks are flung on the floor and the walls are bare.
I’m not sure why Caleb was bothered by me turning the farmhouse topsy-turvy. Seems like it would have just felt the same as living here.
“Guys are through here.” The blond guy whose name I probably should have asked for heads down the hall and disappears to the right.
I swallow my nerves and follow. I’ve only met two of Caleb’s college teammates.
They visited him in Landry last summer, and we got lunch.
They were both perfectly nice, but the one meal didn’t establish any of the rapport I have with Colt, Jake, and Luke.
No one at Clarkson knows anything about me and Caleb’s past: good or bad.
“Winters! Some chick for you,” I hear called out just before I reach the opening.
I enter what is obviously the living room. Four guys are sprawled out around the large space. There’s a massive sectional couch holding two of them; the third and Caleb are in bean bags.
Unsurprisingly, there’s a baseball game playing on the flatscreen television.
I am surprised to see a bunch of girls parked on the couch between the boys. A few are sitting on the floor as well. I do a quick count, registering there’s eight of them. A couple take note of my arrival, but the others are distracted, talking with the boys.
“Who?” one girl asks the blond who announced my arrival. “Sophie said she couldn’t come tonight.”
Caleb glances over, sees me, and freezes.
Then, a broad smile spreads across his face. Every second of the dark, three-hour drive here from Landry is suddenly worth it. He stands and strides over to me.
I’m expecting a hello, or for him to ask what I’m doing here.
Instead he kisses me, pulling me tight to his body and wrapping his arms around my waist. I melt into him, not hating the fact he’s greeting me so enthusiastically in front of his friends and teammates. And especially the other girls here.
“Hey,” I whisper, when we break apart for air.
“Hi.” He grins, but the humor leaves his face as he studies mine. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to see you.”
Caleb’s smile returns. “You left after the night feeding?”
“Uh-huh. Mike’s going to take care of things in the morning.”
Gramps’s friend seemed thrilled by the prospect when I called from a gas station an hour ago, especially when I told him I was going to visit Caleb.
“I’ll have to head back tomorrow afternoon.”
Caleb’s smile dims a little when I reveal just how brief a visit this will be. He recovers quickly, though, turning so he’s no longer blocking the rest of the room.
Everyone’s staring at us, ignoring the game on the screen.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend Lennon. Lennon, you’ve met Garrett and Jamie. That’s Drew.” Caleb nods to the blond guy who let me in the house. “And Elliot.” He nods to the other guy on the bean bag.
“Nice to meet you all,” I say.
He doesn’t introduce the girls, and I wonder—hope—that means he doesn’t know their names.
“See you guys tomorrow,” Caleb says, then pulls me from the room and toward the stairs.
“Maybe I wanted to watch the end of the baseball game,” I tease.
Caleb laughs. The warm, husky sound of it warms me from the inside out. “We can watch it in my room if you’re really that invested.”
Once we’re upstairs, he leads me down the hall and into his bedroom.
I glance around. I’ve seen glimpses of it on video calls, but never in person.
It’s more tastefully decorated than the one in his parents’ house in Landry.
The walls here are white rather than red.
His comforter is navy, rather than lime green.
Textbooks and more baseball equipment litter the room, but aside from that, there isn’t much in the way of decoration. There are a few baseball posters up on the walls. There’s a framed photograph on his desk, and it’s one of us. I smile when I see it.
“Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” Caleb walks over to a mini fridge tucked in the corner.
I shake my head as I let my bag drop to the floor and kick off my shoes. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
He pulls a sports drink out for himself. I watch his throat contract as he drinks some of the red liquid.
“Want to watch something?” He misreads my eye roll. “It doesn’t have to be baseball, Len.”
I walk over to him, not stopping until I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “I don’t want to watch anything, Caleb.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawns as he studies my face. “You could have just said this is a booty call.”
I tug at his T-shirt. “This is a booty call.”
Caleb yanks the cotton material off in one smooth motion and then walks forward, forcing me backward.
I giggle as he pulls my shirt off impatiently, leaving me in just a bra and jeans.
“Don’t think I don’t want to, because I really do, but are you sure that you want to?
” he asks as we tumble down onto his bed.
“I’m sure.”
I’m sick of feeling sad, of experiencing nothing but grief and uncertainty. But most of all, I want to reconnect with Caleb. To show him how much his support after Gramps passed meant. To reassure him that while everything else in my life might have changed, my feelings for him have not.
“I need you, Caleb.”
Hunger replaces uncertainty as he pulls my mouth to his.
Lust condenses in my stomach and spreads throughout my veins as he rolls above me, his tongue skillfully stroking mine.
I feel alive , a mass of emotions and desires.
My hands explore the corded sinew of Caleb’s bare back, savoring how the muscles shift and tense.
I can’t get close enough to him, only moving away to pull down my jeans and tug at the gray sweatpants he’s wearing. His mouth moves to my neck. I arch upward, moaning his name and not caring how needy and desperate I sound.
Anticipation tumbles through me like a waterfall when I feel his cock press against my entrance. My heart races and my breathing quickens.
“Fuck,” Caleb groans, as he slips the rest of the way inside of me.
I stop thinking and just feel, letting myself get lost in the sensation of being completely consumed by Caleb Winters.
And hope the way I’m clutching on to him is telling Caleb everything I haven’t found the words for yet.