Garrison
He shouldn’t be all that surprised to see me this morning. His face, however, shows nothing but surprise as I walk up the gravel path to his house and spot him heading into the barn, carrying feed buckets.
“No.”
I laugh and pivot, changing direction and heading toward the barn instead of the house. “Should have known you’d already be outside.”
“You’re supposed to be hungover. You were shitfaced last night.”
I wasn’t that drunk. I mean, yeah, I was pretty drunk, but after Bates left, I switched to water, took a long piss and then passed out in one of the tents set up out at Oakley’s. It was cold as shit, and I woke up way too early—but no hangover. “Nah, I’m fine.”
“What are you doing here, Dixon?” He seems resigned to his fate of me following him around though and barely even sounds annoyed as he walks into the barn. Naturally, I follow right behind him.
“You said we could talk if people weren’t around.” I nod toward the stables, where the horses are, and grin. “Don’t see any people around.”
He huffs but doesn’t argue with me. He just feeds the horses and fills their water. It’s chilly this morning, but he’s only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, my eyes tracking each bulge of his arm muscles as he slings slop for the pigs next and then moves to the chickens.
“Well, if you’re going to be my stalker, you could at least help.”
I grin at that, liking that he’s still not kicking me out. “Tell me what to do. I’ll help.”
“Know how to milk cows?”
“What self-respecting Kensley citizen doesn’t?” My family may not own a farm, but I did work on one during the past couple of summers for some extra cash.
He guides a cow into the milking station and kicks the stool over to me. “Have at it.”
“You know, they have machines to do this nowadays,” I say but take a seat, getting acquainted with the cow. “This is kind of barbaric as fuck.”
He eyes me curiously. “Milking a cow? It’s not. It’s been done for years. And those machines cost money. A lot of money. We aren’t a high-producing dairy farm. My mom just makes shit with the milk. Goats are next.”
“Yeah, but like . . .” I look at the cow, her eyes kind of dead and cold. “You know, consent and all that.”
He’s looking at me like I’m crazy now. “Have you been reading on that internet thing we talked about?”
“Fuck you, Bates. I have manners. And I know not to touch without permission.” I look into the cow’s eyes, and she doesn’t look happy.
Then she lets out a loud “Moo.”
I look pointedly over at Bates. “See? She’s telling me to fuck off.”
He looks at the cow, then at me, his eyes a little wide, like I’m totally fucking crazy but also making a little sense. And I continue to push my point, “See, Bates? It’s fucked up.”
He looks slightly horrified as he shakes his head at me, looking away from the cow. “Well, fuck. Now I don’t want to milk her either. Thanks for the total mindfuck.”
I chuckle at that, standing up from the stool and liking the amused smile on Jameson’s face. He’ll milk her later, guaranteed. He’s a farm boy, after all, and I’m pretty much just fucking with him, so I playfully ask, “Anything else?”
“Right. Since you were oh, so helpful,” he jokes, leading the cow back out of the barn to hang out with the others.
“Where are your folks?”
He leads the horses out of the stall and into a fenced area near the cows, then hands me a shovel, grabbing his own. “Farmers’ market.”
I take his cue and start mucking out the stalls with him but don’t stop talking. That’s why I’m really here anyway. “So, what’s up with you and Travis?”
His biceps flex as he shovels, and my eyes stay trained on them, hoping like hell it’s not noticeable but still unable to help myself. “There’s nothing up with us. I told you, we’re friends.”
“Friends who kiss.”
His eyes dart around the barn, as if looking to see if anyone else can hear us, and he looks paranoid as shit. Then he looks back at me, keeping his voice low. “We’re friends. Both kind of experimenting, I guess. But still, just friends.”
“Your eyes lit up when he got to the party last night.” I hate how bitter I sound, but I can’t seem to help that any more than I can keep from eye-fucking him as he goes about his work in the barn, ignoring me until he finally shrugs.
“I’m glad he wants to be my friend again.” His grin is mischievous as he pins me with a look. “I thought you fucked that up forever.”
I move closer to him. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Yeah. I know, man.” He sounds like he finally believes me. “It’s okay. It was probably a good thing it happened.”
“What?” I’m surprised by that and totally unsure what he means.
He leans on the shovel, his hands on the end.
“Travis and I didn’t really talk about any of this stuff before, you know?
” He still doesn’t like to say it out loud.
“But since I pulled a Dixon and forced him to talk to me, we actually had a pretty good conversation. It feels comfortable now, less like something shameful I have to hide.”
“You shouldn’t have to hide,” I say, mimicking his position, my own shovelhead unmoving, planted on the ground in the barn. And I realize I’m jealous because it sounds like he talks to Travis about it but doesn’t with me. “You can say it, you know? Around me. Say that you’re into guys.”
“I have.” He’s quiet, looking behind me cautiously, still checking for anyone else, and then his eyes meet mine. “But . . .”
“You still don’t trust me,” I answer for him because I can see it in his eyes.
“It’s not that.” He shrugs and then moves, leaning his shovel against the wall and facing me. “It’s just”—he sighs—“with Travis, he’s, um . . . not—” he breaks off, holding back.
“Straight,” I finish for him, leaning my shovel next to his and standing right in front of him.
“But you are,” he says, and then I get it. He talks to Travis because he’s not heterosexual, and he thinks I am. There can’t be total trust because he thinks I’ll judge him or won’t understand.
I step in closer to him, breathing in his minty smelling toothpaste. I don’t think he showered before coming out to work, which wouldn’t make sense anyway. But he brushed his teeth. He stares at me, confusion washing over his face.
“Dixon? You okay?”
“I . . .” My heart is tumbling around in my chest. My hand shakes as it lands on his hip. I’m okay though. I want this. I want . . . to be me.
I don’t say anything else before leaning in and pressing my lips to his, tentatively, and totally unsure. The kiss is shaky and awkward. He sucks in a deep breath, his big hand landing on my shoulder and pushing me back slightly, not enough to really move me. “What are you doing?”
I snap back, my eyes wide and my heart about to escape my chest. “Shit.”
“What was that you said about consent?”
“Oh, fuck.” I blanch, moving back from him so fast I nearly trip over a bucket on the ground, but he catches me with both arms, looking into my eyes with concern.
“Shit. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I didn’t have permission to do that.
I shouldn’t have . . .” I run my hand through my hair, thoroughly freaking out. “That was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
“Dixon. Stop. It’s okay. I was mostly fucking with you.”
He doesn’t release me, and my heart is beating so fast, I swear my ears are pounding. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. But . . .” His brows pinch together as he studies me. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I didn’t.” I pull away from him, and he lets me. “Please just forget about this.”
I can’t believe I did that. What the hell was I thinking? I feel like an idiot, and I just want to get out of here, but Bates moves closer to me, his hand cupping my jaw and forcing my eyes to his.
“Garrison, why did you kiss me?”
“Don’t.” I look away, but his hand is still on my face.
He guides me back to his gaze. “Are you . . . ?” He doesn’t fill in the word, and goddamn it, I want to.
I gather every single bit of courage I’ve ever had inside, and my chest puffs up with air as I stand a little taller and release it slowly. “Gay.”
He shows some shock on his handsome face, but then he smiles at that.
“Holy shit.” I’m breathing faster now, a smile taking over my face. “I’ve never let myself even think that before. But yeah, I’m gay.”
He smiles and then he shocks the hell out of me by leaning in, his lips pressing to mine slowly, softly, exploring, and letting me explore.
This kiss is worlds different from the first one.
He gives me time to feel his lips against mine.
He opens when my tongue drags along the seams of his lips and then slides into his, wrestling with his tongue.
His hand remains on my face as mine grip his hips through his jeans.
In this moment, it’s just a kiss. A deep, unfiltered, uninhibited kiss that I feel everywhere. My first kiss with a guy. The first kiss that ever felt right in ways I never let myself even think about.
But all too soon, Jameson jumps back, releasing me when a car door slams outside, and I quickly try to catch my breath while he wipes at his mouth as if what we just did is written there.
We hear his brothers and parents outside, and I know whatever just happened is definitely over for now.
But if I have any say at all, it won’t be over forever.
If I can, I’m going to make sure we do that over and over.