Chapter 14
YOU CAN’T HIDE
JOEY
My Soul by Thrice
Ifind him leaning against Joplin’s stall, arms crossed, one boot tapping a rhythm against the concrete. He pushes off the wood when he sees me and closes the distance in two strides, threading his fingers through my hair and angling my face up to meet his mouth.
Townshend protests from the far corner, tossing his head and pinning his ears. New smells, odd hour. He doesn’t appreciate the intrusion.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jesse says against my lips, kissing me again.
I let myself have the kiss for three full seconds before I pull away.
“You said you weren’t in a good place tonight.” I keep my voice steady, even though my chest is tight. “What does that mean?”
He lets go, rakes a hand through his hair. “It means I had a shit night and I needed to see you.” He searches my face. “Can that be enough for now?”
It’s not enough. Not even close. But the way he’s looking at me, open and raw and asking instead of shutting down, I let the question go.
“It’s enough for now.”
He places a palm against my cheek, and the tenderness of it makes something in my chest ache. “I’m sorry about tonight, Joey.”
A loud, indignant whinny cuts through the moment. Townshend tosses his head over his stall door, ears pinned in clear displeasure at having his sleep disturbed.
“He’s going to wake up my parents,” I whisper, glancing toward the house.
Jesse’s hands drop to my waist, thumbs tracing the bare skin below the hem of my tank top. “Can we go somewhere else?”
I scan the barn. My gaze lands on Joplin, who watches us with calm interest from her stall, ears pricked forward, dark eyes steady.
“Actually,” I say. “Want to go for a ride?”
Jesse blinks. “A what?”
“A horseback ride. There’s a trail up the hills behind the house. It’s beautiful at night, and Joplin is gentle enough that even you could handle her.”
He shakes his head. “Joplin? Like Janis?”
“We have a Townshend, Hendrix, and Morrison three stalls down. Keep up.”
He lets out a short laugh. “Your family has the weirdest naming system.”
“Mom started it.” I open Joplin’s stall and she nuzzles my hand with her nose, her breath warm and grassy against my palm.
“But this one’s mine. Janis Joplin once said in an interview that she never felt loved.
That she was ugly. But she was so talented, so worthy of it, and she couldn’t see it in herself.
” I stroke the white blaze between Joplin’s eyes.
“That’s this girl. Sweetest soul in the barn, and she had no idea how special she was when she got here. ”
Jesse goes quiet. He watches me with Joplin, something shifting behind his expression that I can’t quite read. Then he turns his attention to the horse.
“I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
“Scared?” I lift an eyebrow.
He leans in close and I forget to breathe. “No.”
I grin, leaning in closer so my nose touches his cheek. “I think you’re lying, Jesse.” I press a kiss to his jaw.
A low sound rumbles in his throat, and his hand finds my hip, fingers curling against the bone, pulling me a fraction closer. Heat blooms where his fingers press and I lean into it. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
He steps back, loosening his grip on me, and I feel the loss immediately.
“Isn’t this going to wake up your parents?” he asks as I grab a few things from the tack room.
Valid point. But I’ve taken Joplin on night rides as exposure therapy before, and right now the risk is worth it. “If we get caught, I’ll just blame it on you,” I giggle as Jesse grabs my waist.
Ten minutes later, I have Joplin saddled and bridled. Jesse watches from a safe distance as I lead her out the back of the barn, clearly uncertain about this whole plan, which is honestly adorable.
“She’s bigger than she looked in the stall,” he says, eyeing Joplin’s broad back.
“Do you trust me?”
Without hesitation, he nods.
I adjust the stirrup leathers, swing up into the saddle with practiced ease, and pat the space behind me. “Come on. I’ll be right here.”
Jesse approaches tentatively, but when he reaches for the stirrup, Joplin doesn’t even flick an ear. With some ungraceful scrambling and a hand up, he manages to settle behind me, his chest pressed against my back, thighs bracketing mine like a vice.
I nudge Joplin into a walk, and Jesse’s arms lock around my waist. “Relax. She knows what she’s doing.”
The trail winds through the scrub oak and manzanita behind our property, climbing gradually into the hills.
The moon hangs full and bright overhead, bathing everything in silver and making the familiar path easy to navigate.
Joplin picks her way carefully, each hoofbeat sure and unhurried despite the darkness.
She’s done this trail hundreds of times.
Every time Joplin adjusts her footing on the uneven ground, his arms tighten.
“You’re making her nervous,” I say.
“I’m making her nervous? She’s a thousand pounds of unpredictable muscle and I’m sitting on top of her in the dark.”
“She’s reading every ounce of tension in your body right now.” I run my palm along Joplin’s neck, feeling the warmth radiate through her coat. “Horses carry everything you bring to them. Whatever’s happening inside you? The thing you think you’re hiding? They already know.”
Joplin’s ears swivel toward my voice.
“What is she reading right now?” Jesse asks quietly.
“You.” I lace my fingers over his where they grip my waist.
“Well, that’s comforting.”
I smile. “She can feel a fly land on her back, or a finger shifting on the rein.” My thumb traces the ridge of Joplin’s mane. “You can’t fake it. Not with a horse. They read what’s underneath, the very thing you won’t say out loud.”
Behind me, his grip loosens a fraction.
“It’s a conversation. A give and take. And it only works if I’m honest, because you can’t fool a twelve-hundred-pound animal who’s reading your heartbeat through its spine.”
The trail curves through a grove of oaks, moonlight filtering through the branches in silver fragments. Joplin’s stride stays long and even, her hoofbeats a steady pulse against the packed earth. Jesse’s thighs relax against mine, his breathing slowing to match the rhythm beneath us.
“How did you find me that night?” Jesse asks quietly. “When I left Eclipse, you came right to me at the studio.”
“Believe it or not, I know you, Jesse,” I say with the weight of our shared history. “Mask or no mask.”
His chest expands against my back, letting out a breath. “You knew it was me all along?”
“Not consciously. Not at first. But when I ran into you backstage,” I lean into him, his warmth seeping through my cotton top. “It was like my body recognized you before my brain caught up.”
The trail opens onto the ridge and the view unfurls beneath us—moonlit hills rolling toward the ocean, the Pacific a dark mirror under the sky.
Joplin stops without direction, content to stand at the overlook while the breeze carries salt air up from the coast. Jesse’s arms rest easy around my waist now, his chin settling on my shoulder like he’s forgotten to be afraid.
“I went to the show because I wanted to be someone different for one night,” I say. “Someone who didn’t play it safe. And if I hadn’t done that, I never would have known what this feels like. With you.”
His breath is warm against my neck. “What does it feel like?”
The question deserves more than an easy answer. I search for the words that match the sensation—this expanding pressure behind my ribs, like my chest can’t contain what I feel for him.
“Like coming alive,” I whisper. “Like finally understanding what all those songs are about.”
His arms tighten around me, and the night holds its breath.
“I’ve been half of Joey-and-Maggie my entire life,” I say. “Everyone sees us as a pair, like we’re incomplete without each other. But with her gone, I get to figure out what I want. Who I am without her.” I twist to look at him. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
He pushes my hair aside and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You could never be a terrible person. It’s okay to want something that’s just yours.”
I should find comfort in that, but the guilt still hums beneath my skin. Keeping this from Maggie. From my parents. I press the thought down and lean into his warmth.
“My dad doesn’t know I’m performing,” Jesse says. “It was supposed to be an experiment. I never expected it to go this far.”
“Is your father the reason for the mask?”
“Partly.” His jaw tightens against my shoulder.
“But it’s more about my privacy. If I did this as myself, I’d never be able to go anywhere in public.
I’d never be able to take you to dinner or a movie like a regular person.
” His arms tighten around me. “The mask gives me what I can’t have without it. A way to play and still be free.”
I nudge Joplin forward along the ridge and we ride in silence for a long moment, the only sounds hoofbeats and the wind.
His hands shift on my waist. Thumbs drawing slow circles against my hip bones, tracing patterns on my skin without thinking. Then his fingers drift, grazing the strip of bare skin between my tank top and the waistband of my shorts, and the air between us changes.
I tip my head, exposing the curve of my neck. His lips brush the shell of my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine. “I’m trying to behave, but you pressed against me like this…” he trails off.
“I don’t remember asking you to behave.”
He hums against my skin. “The mouth on you, Joey Morgan.”
Joplin continues her steady walk, completely unbothered.
His hand slides higher, fingers splaying wide against my ribcage.
His thumb brushes the underside of my breast and every nerve ending in my body lights on fire.
The ache of wanting more is almost unbearable.
I arch into his palm, wanting more, which causes my butt to press harder into him, feeling the hardness through his jeans.
He groans softly against my neck, the sound vibrating through his chest into my spine. “You’re going to get us both thrown off this horse if you keep doing that.”
“Joplin won’t throw us,” I say, turning my head to graze my teeth against his bottom lip. “She’s unflappable.”
His hand cups my breast and my nipples harden instantly. He makes another one of those low, hungry sounds against my throat.
“I’ve been thinking about you since this morning,” he whispers, running his tongue along the curve of my neck. “About touching you again. About how you taste.”
“This is the first time I’ve ever made out on horseback,” I say, trying for lightness but failing when his teeth graze my earlobe.
“Then I’d better make it memorable.” His voice drops low enough to pool in my stomach, and his other hand finds the waistband of my shorts, fingers hooking beneath the elastic, tracing the line of it with agonizing patience.
“By all means, take your liberties, Jesse O’Donnell.” I let out a small laugh as Joplin guides the way and I surrender to his hands.
“Come over tomorrow night,” he says against my ear. “My parents are flying to New York for my mom’s book thing. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”
My pulse hammers at the thought. “What time?”
“Whenever you can get away. I’ll be waiting.”
“We should head back before my parents wake up and find an empty bed and a missing horse.”
I nudge Joplin into a gentle trot toward home. Jesse’s arms tighten around me and his rough laughter fills my ear. I grin into the darkness, the wind catching my hair and sending it streaming behind us.
When we reach the barn, I bring Joplin to a halt and we sit in the stillness for a moment. His chin rests on my shoulder, his breath warm against my cheek. The horses shift in their stalls around us.
“Jesse.”
“Yeah?”
“Next time, charge your phone.”
His laugh is quiet and real, and he presses a kiss to the spot behind my ear that makes my whole body hum. “Deal.”