Chapter 38
Roman
“Okie doke,” Iris says brightly, after tightening the cinch around Cheerio’s belly. “He’s all ready for you, cowboy.”
I lumber over to the horse and climb aboard. But I’m not happy about it. I love Iris, though. And she was absolutely right at the house earlier: I’ve iced her out, thereby stupidly risking everything with her. So, whatever she wants me to do today to fix my fuckup, I’ll do it.
In one fluid motion, Iris elegantly mounts Trixie nearby. “Ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her blue eyes sparkle. “Notice anything different about Cheerio’s tack today?”
I look around cluelessly, not sure what she means. At the reins in my hands. The stirrups at my feet. It all looks the same as always to me. “Is this some kind of a wax-on, wax-off thing? Am I supposed to find deep meaning in something mundane, or is there something really big I’m missing?”
Iris laughs. “It’s a small thing. Something I think might help me make a point to you.” She pauses, apparently awaiting something from me. When I don’t speak, she says, “Okay, I’ll tell you about it later, during the ride. That’ll give you the chance to notice it on your own.”
That’s fine with me. I’m not in the mood for guessing games today. Not in the mood to try, and fail, to reach some divine epiphany. I just want to take in the fresh air, enjoy some alone time with my woman, and try to make things up to her, as best I can.
With a squeeze of her thighs and a clipped clicking noise from her mouth, Iris expertly signals her horse to lead us out of the barn and onto her favorite trail.
And for the next several minutes, we ride in silence, the only sounds coming from the horses’ hooves on the dirt and occasional rocks, mingled their soft exhales and whinnies.
“How are you doing back there?” Iris asks after a bit.
“Good.” I don’t how it happened or when, but it’s an honest answer. I’m good. Not great, but good. My shoulders and back feel a lot less tense and tight than only a few minutes ago. My mind is clearing, too. Could it be my brilliant Iris was on to something when she commanded me here, after all?
“Have you noticed the different thing yet?” Iris asks.
I roll my eyes to myself. “Just tell me, babe. I don’t have energy for guessing games today.”
“There’s a new piece of equipment on Cheerio’s head today.”
I look down at my horse’s head, and I’ll be damned, two square pieces of leather are abutting his eyes on either side of his head. “What are those things?”
“Blinders.”
“I didn’t even notice. I guess I’ve been distracted.”
“Isn’t it amazing that something can be there, all along? Just sitting there in front of your nose, but you don’t even see it because your mind is focused on things that don’t even exist?”
I chuckle. “So, this is gonna be a wax-on, wax-off kind of thing.”
“Just saying, sometimes, you have to consciously focus on what’s in front of you to be able to see it clearly. As I’m sure you know, Mr. I Can Do Everything Myself, the past is gone. The future hasn’t happened yet. The only thing that’s real is the present.”
“Okay, Yoda. Go ahead and give me whatever little speech you’ve been cooking up in your brilliant head about blinders now. I’m listening.”
She snickers. “Do you know the purpose of blinders?”
“To keep the horse from looking around, I presume.”
“Correct. To keep them from getting distracted by what’s to the right or the left so they can focus their full attention on what’s right in front of them.
They help the horse focus on the path ahead.
The signals his rider is giving him. Basically, they help the horse turn off his brain and live in the moment so he can more effectively do his job. ”
I snort and murmur, “Wax on, wax off. I saw it coming a mile away.”
“That way,” Iris continues, “he can react on instinct. Without overthinking it. He can rely on all his training, power, and strength, without his brain betraying him and telling him to focus on things that don’t matter—things that will only diminish his peak performance.”
“That’s cool, babe. I’m impressed by the metaphor. But, unfortunately, blinders aren’t league-approved equipment. If they were, I’d surely give them a shot.” I scoff and add, “Why not? I’ll try anything at this point.”
Iris sighs, and we ride in silence for a long moment.
Finally, she calls back to me, “Do you know the most important difference between you and a horse, my love?”
“Well, it’s definitely not the size of our dicks, so I guess my answer is no.”
Iris giggles, and to my surprise, I’m able to join her in laughing at my stupid joke.
“The most important difference,” Iris says, “is that a horse can’t imagine putting on blinders.
He needs his human to do it for him. But a human being can imagine it.
In fact, it’s a scientific fact the human body reacts to everything the mind vividly tells it, whether the vision comes in a dream, as a manifestation, or whatever.
That’s why your heart rate increases whenever you’re having a nightmare.
Or you get hard or have an orgasm during a sex dream.
Because your body and mind don’t know the difference between what’s real and what’s imagined, if you focus hard enough on it. ”
“I have a hunch someone on this trail is equine therapizing me.”
Iris laughs and doesn’t deny it. In fact, she turns and flashes me a cute little smile over her shoulder that admits I’m spot-on. “Trust the process, grasshopper,” she coos.
“You’ve got it, Mr. Miyagi. I’m all ears.”
She motions toward a shady spot in a nearby clearing, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide and bright for the first time in a very long time. “Let’s stop for a snack, yes?”
“Whatever you say, Teacher. I’m your willing pupil today.”
Iris brings Trixie to a stop, and Cheerio follows suit, as he always does. And a moment later, we’re sitting underneath our favorite shady tree on the property, nibbling on apples and taking in the view, while our horses drink languidly from a nearby trough.
“Every sports psychologist I’ve ever seen has talked about visualization and manifestation,” I say. “I did a shit ton of visualization before the Baltimore game, and look where that got me.”
“Have you ever visualized yourself putting on blinders during a game?”
I laugh. “Well, no. Can’t say I have.”
“Then you don’t know, for sure, if it would work or not. True or false?”
I smirk. “True. Technically.”
“So, tell me, what do you have to lose?”
I bite my lip. “Nothing, I suppose.”
“Exactly. So, here’s what you’re going to do on Sunday, whenever you feel like you really need to focus during the game. You can’t wear your magic blinders all game long, but whenever—”
“My magic blinders?”
“Correct. That’s why you can’t wear them at all times during a game, because their magic might fade if worn too long.
It’s important you only put them on whenever you need an extra boost of focus and confidence at a critical moment.
Think of them like shifting into the highest gear in a race car.
” Her eyebrows cinch together and a crease forms on her forehead.
“Or is that the lowest gear?” Iris scratches her chin, contemplating her analogy, and she’s so damned adorable in this moment, it’s all I can do not to tackle her to the soft grass and rip off all clothes, right here and now.
“Iris, I want you to know I respect your intellect and ideas. I truly do. I also appreciate your attempt to help me. But, sweetheart, there’s truly no way in hell—”
“Stop, Roman,” Iris says firmly, raising her palm.
“You’re going to do this once on Sunday—for me.
And you’re going to do it in earnest. Without holding back.
Without rolling your eyes. Without secretly thinking it’s dumb.
You’re going all in on this, if only once.
And if it doesn’t work that one time, then okay, I’ll never talk about this again. ”
I exhale. I can’t argue with that. In fact, I have no desire to argue with her. Not when she’s looking at me like that—like she’s discovered real, true magic and wants only to share it with me, the man she loves. “Okay,” I reply softly in surrender. “What, exactly, do you want me to do, love?”
She lights up. “I want you to put on your magic blinders, like this.” She puts her palms on either side of her head, at her temples, mimicking the squares of leather strapped to Cheerio’s head.
“Once you’ve got your magic blinders in place, I want you to actively imagine their magic working for you, blocking out the past and future and your physical ability to think of anything that’s not immediately in front of you on the field.
When your blinders are on, they make it so you can only think about whatever play you’ve got on tap, and that’s it.
You can only feel with your senses. You see the receivers running their routes.
You feel the ball against your hands and your cleats digging into the turf.
Everything else is magically blocked out. ”
She’s definitely using her child psychology background on me in this moment, even though I’m not a fucking child. But you know what? I can’t see a downside to giving it a whirl. What have I got to lose? “Okay, Mr. Miyagi. I’ll give it a shot.”
“You have to believe in the magic, though. Promise me, Roman. It’s like Peter Pan. The fairy dust won’t make you fly unless you truly believe it will.”
“I believe, Iris.”
“Promise?”
“I believe!” I throw up both arms like I’m in a Baptist revival. “I believe!”
As she laughs, I take her giggling frame into my arms and kiss her deeply—and I swear, the resulting combustion feels even more earthquaking than our magical kiss in front of the waterfall in Kauai.
Even more so than that life-altering kiss under the swirling stars in Orchard Blossom.
She’s my destiny, this woman. The best thing that’s ever happened to me.
And it’s now clear I came this close to pushing her away, simply because I’m a stupid, scared, self-sabotaging idiot.
I already loved this woman before today.
But my love for Iris feels like it’s expanded and deepened today.
Plainly, if I want to keep this once-in-a-lifetime love in my life, I’m going to have to kick Regular Season Roman to the curb, once and for all.
Not only that, I’ll need to commit to being vulnerable with Iris, too, like she said, even when it’s hard and scary and the last thing I want to do.
“You didn’t want to have sex with me this week?” she whispers against my cheek.
“I always want you, Iris. I was punishing myself.”
She leans back, her breathing hitching. “By punishing me?”
The question hits me like a gut punch. What’s wrong with me? “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never do it again. I promise. Let me make it up to you.”
I quickly get her bottom half naked, and after guiding her onto her back and spreading her thighs, I lean in and do the thing I wanted to do in that meadow in Orchard Blossom: I eat my gorgeous woman’s pussy like a starving man.
In fact, I devour Iris Benedetto with such enthusiasm, both horses start whinnying and stomping in unison when Iris eventually lets out a loud scream of ecstasy with her climax.
As Iris comes down, I yank off my shoes and jeans and pull her onto my lap. As she sinks herself onto my full length, I cradle her back and bring my forehead to hers. “I love you, Iris. I love you forever. And from this day forward, I’ll always make sure you know that.”
She gyrates passionately on top of me, kissing me feverishly. And when she ultimately comes, it’s with a low, keening groan that sends rockets of desire shooting through me, so of course, I come on her heels.
As our bodies quiet down, we kiss passionately. And by the time our lips part again, I feel like a new man with a newfound lightness of being.
“Magic blinders,” I murmur with a smile, my forehead pressed to hers.
“Magic blinders,” she whispers back. “Do it for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“Then do this. Full throttle. Without holding back. No second-guessing it.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Trust me, Roman. You need to go all in on this.”
“I will. Because I do trust you. Completely. With all my heart and soul.”
As I say the words, I realize they’re true, without caveat or exception.
Yes, I love Iris. But in a flash, I realize that’s not enough for a relationship to withstand the ups and downs.
You’ve got to have trust, too. Complete trust. That’s what I’ve learned today.
And now that I know it, I’m even more excited than ever to finally make this gorgeous, brilliant, kindhearted woman my wife.