Chapter Eight
Owen lifted a bottle of beer to his lips to hide a smile as Tyler and Keegan looked around the Thirsty Cowboy in wide-eyed wonder.
Their inexperience shone brighter than the neon sign out front featuring a buff wrangler wearing nothing but a pair of chaps and a fuck-me grin.
It was so damn adorable, but Owen didn’t think they’d appreciate him saying so.
Rueben, who’d invited himself to tag along once he heard about the outing, had no reservations about sharing his thoughts.
“If your eyes get any bigger, they’re going to bulge out of your head like cartoon characters,” Rueben said. “And there will probably be one of those old-timey car horns.”
“Ahooga,” Owen said. So much for keeping his mouth shut.
Reuben saluted him with his beer. “That’s the one.”
Fortunately, Tyler and Keegan laughed at their antics instead of taking offense.
“Sorry,” Tyler said sheepishly, then turned to Keegan. “We have no chill.”
Keegan shrugged and turned his attention back to the crowd.
Owen followed the direction of his gaze to where several couples swayed together on the dance floor.
It wasn’t anywhere close to the kind of dancing at Cash’s birthday party.
For one thing, Owen had kept a respectful distance from Keegan when they slow danced, but the couples at the Thirsty Cowboy were practically glued to one another.
Some blatantly grabbed their partners’ asses, a few performed a cowboy version of dirty dancing, and others made out like there was no one else in the bar.
It was hard to know what Keegan was thinking behind his enormous hazel eyes.
Was he replaying the encouraging words his therapist said to him, or did he only hear the hateful messages the cult had spewed?
Keegan must’ve sensed his attention because he met Owen’s gaze and offered a warm smile.
“Tell me about your homework assignment,” Rueben said. “Are you supposed to pick up a guy or something?”
Keegan had just taken a sip of his soda and practically choked on it.
While Rueben and Owen had chosen beer, the novices ordered soft drinks, making them look even more innocent and adorable.
If they weren’t careful, they’d draw the attention of every horny man like sharks to blood in the water.
The mere thought made Owen sit up straighter and take stock of their surroundings.
“No, no,” Keegan said once he recovered.
“Bryant just wants me to experience environments that normalize same-sex relationships. Besides the ranch,” he added before Rueben could point out that it met the criteria.
“Dating and relationships are off the table for me right now. My therapist says I’m susceptible to a codependent relationship until I’m deeper into my recovery. ”
Something about Keegan’s remark snagged Owen’s attention and wouldn’t let go. “What do you mean by codependent?”
“It kind of means trading one addiction for another, but your vice is an unhealthy relationship where you think you need the other person to exist or be happy,” Keegan replied.
Rueben scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sounds more like a hostage situation than a relationship.”
Keegan and Rue continued talking, but Owen’s mind had gone into a tailspin.
He’d hoped Keegan’s explanation about codependent relationships would’ve made the weird vibe go away, but it only made it worse.
His axis had suddenly shifted, and the world listed to the right.
Owen had entered Tyler’s life during its lowest point, and he’d made himself necessary for Ty’s existence for the first few months of his incarceration.
Their bond had continued to grow until they’d become virtually inseparable.
Was Tyler with him romantically because he wanted to be, or had he somehow convinced himself that Owen was the only choice?
He got lost in turbulent thoughts until warm lips brushed against the shell of his ear.
“Knock it off,” Tyler insisted in a low voice.
“There’s nothing toxic about our relationship.
I’m not with you because I feel obligated or imprisoned.
I love you, and I choose you.” Choice was so important to Tyler, and he protected the freedom with a dragon’s ferocity.
So why couldn’t Owen accept that he was Tyler’s choice?
Owen turned his head, and Tyler’s lips were right there.
He tore his gaze away from the sexy mouth to search expressive brown eyes.
Owen wanted to kiss him so badly but wasn’t sure what level of PDA Tyler would be comfortable with yet.
Tyler’s gaze said, “Hell yes,” but he wanted to hear the consent from his lips too. “Can I kiss you?” Owen asked.
Tyler’s lips curved into a broad smile. “You freaking better.”
Owen closed the scant distance and pressed his lips to Tyler’s. He made no move to deepen the kiss and just enjoyed the give of soft flesh beneath his. Owen pulled back and smiled at Tyler. “And I love you too.”
They’d been saying it to one another for a few days, but it still felt new each time.
For the most part, Owen had silenced the negative voice in his head—the one that sounded like his uncle—but the bastard was persistent.
His self-doubt closely resembled the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that kept testing the fence for weak spots, even if it meant they got zapped with high voltage until they achieved success.
All he could do was keep reinforcing the boundaries until his insecurities gave up.
If Owen believed Keegan could overcome his trauma, then he needed to believe the same was possible for himself too.
While staring into Tyler’s eyes, Owen noticed the conversation stopped on the opposite side of the table.
Keegan had caught them smooching in the truck on Monday afternoon, but this was the first time Owen and Tyler had kissed in front of anyone else at the ranch.
Owen braced himself for comments and turned to find Rueben smiling at them. “You have something you want to say?”
Rueben’s grin stretched even bigger, and mischief danced in his eyes. “I’m happy for you both.”
“That’s it? I keep waiting for payback for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
Rueben smiled, then tipped his bottle back and finished his beer. “You focused on the state of our love lives because you lacked hope for yours. None of us took it personally or feel the need to retaliate.”
Tyler leaned into him. “Told you so. Will you relax now?”
“Maybe.”
Rueben gestured his empty beer bottle between Owen and Tyler. “And by the way, you two were the only ones who didn’t see this coming from a mile away.”
Owen and Tyler stared into one another’s eyes long enough for the world to drift away until Keegan asked a question about the food.
“Can’t say that I’ve ever tried it,” Owen admitted.
“It’s your typical bar food,” Rueben told Keegan. “Their pretzels and beer cheese are decent, and a person can’t go wrong with mozzarella sticks. But people don’t really come here for the food.”
Keegan pursed his lips as he looked around the room. “Just the drinks?”
Rueben leaned over and nudged him playfully with his elbow. “The cowboys aren’t thirsty for beverages.”
“Oh. Ohhhh,” Keegan said. He averted his gaze, but not before Owen noticed the flush blooming on his cheeks. “This is all so new to me. Finley is the only guy I’ve dated.”
Rueben slid an arm around Keegan’s shoulders and said, “I’ll show you the ropes. Did you ever watch wildlife documentaries as a kid?”
Keegan lifted his head and looked at him. “The ones that follow animals through their natural habitats and use voiceover narration?”
Owen smiled because he knew where this conversation was headed. He looped his arm around Tyler’s neck and settled in for the show.
“Exactly,” Rueben said. “Consider me your narrator.” He gestured to the bar with his beer bottle. “This is the jungle where gay men have come to prey and play.”
“You’re making them sound like serial killers,” Owen interjected.
“No one is getting eaten,” Rueben replied. Then, he narrowed his eyes as if considering his words. “No one is getting injured or killed. Only the pleasant kind of eating happens here.”
“I thought you said no one came here for the food,” Keegan said.
Rueben leaned closer and whispered into Kee’s ears.
His hazel eyes nearly took on cartoon character form again.
Owen remembered licking the whoopie pie cream off Tyler’s ass and squirmed a little in his seat.
He glanced over at Tyler to see if his mind had wandered there too, but his guy was too transfixed on the conversation across from them.
“See that dark-haired hottie in the bomber jacket at the end of the bar?” Rue asked, gesturing with his beer bottle.
“Yes,” Tyler and Keegan said at the same time.
Owen wanted to be annoyed or jealous, but Tyler’s rapt attention made him smile.
“That guy is like a lion,” Rueben said. “Big, brawny, and on the prowl.” Then, he pointed at the other end of the bar, where a slender blond in a pale blue cropped sweater smiled and flirted with the bartender.
“And that’s his gazelle. Long, lean, and graceful.
He’s drawn the eye of most men in this bar, and they either want to be him or fuck him. ”
Tyler darted a quick glance at Owen, who shook his head. The guy was gorgeous, but he didn’t hold a candle to Tyler. The crop top looked great on the gazelle, but it would look ridiculous on him.
“He’s so beautiful,” Keegan said wistfully. “I never knew boys could wear sweaters like that. It looks so soft.”
“It does,” Rueben agreed. “We’re men, not boys, and we can wear whatever the hell we want to.” He held Keegan’s gaze until he nodded, then gestured at the bar. “And our lion across the way is currently wondering how the sweater will feel against him or how it would look on his bedroom floor.”