13. Morning, Wood You Want To Come To The Farm?
THIRTEEN
morning, wood you want to come to the farm?
Wesley
Morning comes far too quickly after my late night talking with Dahlia.
I don’t even mind the sleepiness in my eyes because the more time I spend with her, the greedier I get.
I understand why she’s so adamant against something more between us, but I want it anyway.
She let it slip last night she thought I was hot when I defended her at the concert.
Of course, I’ll never let her live it down, especially after hearing her embarrassed giggles.
I think about the way she bit her lip and shook her head—no, I was actually kidding—attempting to backpedal when I said she had a crush.
I’d wait all the time she needed if there was a chance she could be mine for real one day.
Between her kind heart and silly antics—she’s fun and smart, beautiful and loving.
I’d be a fool not to soak it up. I can’t help the way I feel about her, it’s damn near impossible.
Aside from her generally glowing personality, she’s a fucking smoke show too.
Thinking of Dahlia’s body has me clenching my fists, the way her body sits so fucking stacked like my dream girl. I should get out of bed before this line of thinking takes the turn it does far too often lately and allow my mind to visualize what it’d be like with her.
I don’t get out of bed and before I know it, my imagination has run wild.
Fuck, I would worship every inch of her beautiful body.
It’s not long before I’m blowing all over my stomach and fist. I exhale, looking down at the mess I’ve made feeling like a fucking creep and reassure myself friendship with Dahlia is better than nothing at all.
But maybe I could consider jerking off to literally anything else other than her.
I seek out Jasper once I’m doing my rounds on the farm, finding him in the orchard behind the main house. The small plot of trees is mostly barren, but still carries the familiar apple scent I grew up with.
“Any luck with the bank this week?”
“No, nothing.” He kicks at some apples littering the ground from the rot.
“I don’t know the specifics or anything yet, but I was talking to Dahlia about her school stuff and she had some ideas.
She mentioned sometimes there are grants for programs. You know free money to help get stuff going?
She mentioned maybe we could look into something like that for Big Al’s.
She’s studying therapy, and she mentioned working with us to start a program here, like with horses.
Would you be down to hear her out?” I stand arms crossed as his body tenses with each word.
“You fucking told her?” he bites out, meeting my eye line with anger, but I see the panic there as well.
“I trust her! All I said was we could use something new to help us out. She brought it up to me because of her thesis for school. Kinda seemed like a mutually beneficial thing, one we’d be stupid to ignore.
I’m trying to help you.” I try to remember Jasper holds the world on his shoulders, even when he doesn’t need to.
The constant pressure is the only explanation for the perpetual stick up his ass, but it doesn’t mean he gets to be a shit head all the time.
“I don’t need some therapy shit at the farm, it’s not what we do. We’re an orchard and small farm operation. What, I’m gonna have a bunch of kids being chased by therapists running around? In what way does that benefit this place?”
“Don’t be an asshole about it, it’s a suggestion.
I was running this by you because you’re being a fucking dick lately and I figured if we had some solutions, maybe you’d lighten the fuck up.
You’re shutting this down before you have any details.
Why don’t you at least talk with Dahlia, hear her out?
If you really want to save this place, you’d be wise to consider all your options instead of letting everything pile up on you. ”
“Whatever. Bring her out here and we’ll talk. Tell her to leave big mouth at home though.” He turns on his heel and back to the main house. While I’m glad he’s inclined to talk to Dahlia, he’s going to get a swift kick in the ass if he talks to her with the same attitude.
I text Dahlia to find out when she’s free to come hang for a weekend here, encouraging her to bring Daphne along too. He didn’t specify a name for big mouth, and who am I to deny Dahlia bringing her best friend over.
When Dahlia’s text comes in a bit later, she’s eager to agree to the meeting.
I smile at her excited messages asking if she’ll be able to ride the horses.
Like always, she’s a ray of fucking sunshine and I can’t help but soak it up.
Her final semester is officially underway and she’s working her ass off.
Between her school work and my long days on the farm, our nightly conversations take place in bed, with me wishing she was in mine.
I let her know there is plenty of space if they want to crash for the weekend to really play into the cowgirl fantasy.
Dahlia agrees to talk with Daphne about coming next week and sends about twenty different emojis too.
She also sneaks in a request to see my art again, but I breeze past with a meme of a cat in a cowboy hat, since the subject of my work is far too obvious to miss.