Chapter 6
Crowbar her in
Oliver
I can’t get that damn book out of my head as I kick a bale of alfalfa down into the feeder from the hay loft.
Is it the story though?
Or the girl?
She wants to be owned.
Paige never did. I respected her “need for independence”, but it ended up just an excuse so she could run around without me checking in on her.
Maybe there was a part of me that didn’t care?
My skin never itched when she was gone like how the werewolf felt when he was separated from his mate.
I’d like to feel that someday. A driving need to be near someone that grips me so fiercely I can’t breathe when I’m not around them.
Except I don’t want to be used again.
Made a fool of.
I want whoever it is to crave me just as obsessively.
Although, I’m pretty sure those novels border on toxic levels.
But there’s a root of truth to them.
What’s ridiculous is to be crowbarring some random woman from an online bookclub into that ideal.
We’re never going to meet, so I can shove that plan out like the next bale of hay through the hole.
I guess since that won’t ever happen, I can be honest with her.
It’s not like she knows who I am. Keeping it anonymous is almost a little…freeing.
Why shouldn’t I use this chance to get a little insight?
Dropping to my butt on the old wooden floor, I let my legs dangle over the heads of my eating horses and pull out my phone.
TheBigO: Send me your craziest favorite book. The one that you’d never admit to someone you know that you’d read.
RacingQueen: Feeling daring? Secret agent stories starting to get boring? I knew I’d hook you on the smut, mwahahaha.
TheBigO: I’m ready to learn something new. Might be time.
RacingQueen: You have to promise to keep me posted. Tomorrow is going to be really shitty here, so your play by play can distract me.
I glance out through the big bay doors at a bright and sunny day. Cold as fuck, but beautiful. Kinda makes me wonder whereabouts she’s located that’s going to storm.
TheBigO: Nasty weather makes for good reading days?
RacingQueen: I wish it was that.
Staring at the screen, part of me wants to push more out of curiosity. How far should I toe that line of keeping this just about fiction?
TheBigO: Then you have to promise to check in so I know you’re safe.
There’s not a thing in the world I could do if she decided to log off and never return. It’s not like I even have her number.
Or name.
Hell, what part of the country she’s in.
RacingQueen: You’re sweet. Moral support welcomed.
Huh. Well, that makes me feel slightly better.
TheBigO: Did you want to talk about it? Er, text?
RacingQueen: I lost someone very close to me and the services are in the morning.
Shit. I don’t know how to help with that.
TheBigO: I’m sorry. I hope you have a support system? A friendly hug to help?
RacingQueen: I do. My dad and my best friend will be there. And my brother. Hug accepted.
Warmth races through my chest despite the chilled air.
That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but I’m glad she took it that way. Then the tiny red heart emoji that pops up afterwards makes me pause.
We’ve been chatting almost constantly for days. Mostly about the stories we’re reading, yet some things have worked their way in.
Every morsel she drops makes me want to learn more.
She hasn’t mentioned her mom.
Oh fuck, is that who’s funeral she’s going to?
I know that pain.
TheBigO: I lost my mom almost fifteen years ago. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
I was still in high school when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
She managed to make it until a year after I graduated.
Barely a legal adult, I was forced to grow up fast considering my father died before I was even old enough to know him.
Well, it’s time to head back inside, my ass is getting cold.
Maybe I’ll start packing for Pendleton? It’s only a week away.
I’m just hanging up my Carhartt and Stetson when my phone dings with another text.
RacingQueen: It’s been almost thirteen since my mom died. Sometimes I forget what her voice sounded like. That’s when I started reading…to get away.
Damn, girl.
She sounds like she’s had a rough time too. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
TheBigO: Well, I’d say books are a lot safer than many alternatives. Lucky for me that you did.
RacingQueen: I agree. I could have turned into a supervillain and taken over the world!
TheBigO: Careful, I’m well versed in spy novels and would know how to infiltrate your secret lair.
RacingQueen: I double dog dare you, Biggie. Find the weakness.
My stupid smiley face looks ridiculous, but feels appropriate.
Wait. My own mouth mimics the emoji.
What the hell?
I shouldn’t be grinning this much.
It’s just fiction, right?