Chapter 23
Roni
I'm flipping the sign to CLOSED when headlights sweep across the glass. The same truck with the horse trailer rattles into the lot. My keys jingle as I pause at the door.
Roni: BITCH!!! The horseman’s back!
I fire off a text to Chloe as I step down from the hut’s wannabe porch. It’s just a set of wooden slats where the ice chest and trash bins sit.
“Evening,” he calls through his lowered window, wide-brimmed hat tilted back on his head. “Caught you at a bad time?”
“Just locked up, actually.”
“Won't keep you long.” His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Got another beauty headed upstate. Thought of you when I saw this route on my schedule. Black one this time. Smaller than the last, but all muscle.”
Chloe: Shouldn’t you be closed by now, babes?
My heart skips. Before I can stop myself, I'm already circling behind the trailer. Lighting is horrible here, and I don’t know this guy. It dons on me it’s probably what Chloe’s thinking, and now I’m more skittish than the horse.
The latch clanks, metal gate scraping downward. Inside, hooves shift against sawdust. The smell hits me first, horse shit followed by a hint of hay and leather.
Roni: Yeah, just locked up.
“Your boyfriend wondering where you are?” He nods at my phone when I hit ‘send’.
“Oh, no. It’s my bestie. But same idea.”
Chloe: Is anyone else there with you?
Chloe: Your guy picking you up?
I hesitantly step in, hoping I’m not making a terrible decision. My fingertips trace the curve where neck meets shoulder, feeling the velvet coat ripple under my touch. The horse's breath clouds in the evening air, eyes liquid and dark as oil.
“He's something, isn't he?” The driver appears behind me, his shadow stretching into the trailer. “Thoroughbred mix. Owner paid a fortune.”
“He's magnificent,” I reply softly, not wanting to startle the animal. My fingers trace the white blaze running down his face, a streak of lightning against midnight. The horse nuzzles my palm, his breath warm against my skin.
“You ride?” the driver asks, leaning against the trailer wall.
“Used to. When I was a kid.” Memories flood back. Summer camps. My grandfather's farm. The feeling of freedom. “My grandfather used to raise them.”
Roni: I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. Calm down.
The horse shifts, muscles rippling beneath his coat. I step closer, running my hand along his neck, feeling the power contained there. He doesn't flinch, just watches me with those intelligent eyes.
Chloe: DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS!
Chloe: I am so giving you the stink eye right now Veronica.
A moment later, fresh headlights sweep the lot. Phoenix's SUV, right on time. I pat the horse's neck one last time, reluctantly backing out of the trailer. The driver’s weathered face breaks into a smile as I emerge.
“Thanks again,” I call, watching him tip his hat before the truck rumbles away, trailer swaying behind it.
Roni: He’s here. Cool your tits. It’s fine.
I'm still buzzing with the scent of hay and horsehair when I pull open Phoenix's passenger door. The interior light catches his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“Who the hell was that?” His jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath stubble.
“Just a regular with a horse headed upstate.” I brush errant hairs from my legs. “He lets me pet them sometimes.”
“It's dark out, Roni.” Phoenix's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, watching the trailer's taillights fade. “Getting into some stranger's trailer.” His voice drops, fingers drumming against the wheel. “What if he—” He doesn’t finish his thought.
“I don't believe it. Are you—” The words catch in my throat as heat rises to my face. “Are you jealous?”
“No, I'm not jealous.” Phoenix's knuckles go white on the steering wheel again. His jaw works back and forth, the stubble catching the dashboard light as he glances once more at the disappearing taillights.
“All I'm saying—”
I lift my palm between us. “You're forty-three, Phoenix.” My voice comes out sharper than intended. “I’ve spent the last however many nights sleeping in your shirts, if I wear anything at all. I suck your cock. I swallow your cum. And I fucking love it. I love you. You think I’m fucking the horse guy? ”
He exhales slowly, shoulders dropping. “You're right.” His thumb traces the silver band on my finger. “It's just—my ex—you’re not her. And that’s not fair. I love you, too.”
“Oh, and you don’t love it when I—”
“No, I fucking LOVE when you do that, too,” he clarifies.
Smart man.
“I know.” I squeeze his hand, feeling the tension in it slowly release. “Take me home.”