Chapter 16 – Kev
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KEV
“And then she asked if we could be friends. And I was like, hell yes we can be friends. You know, because I thought she was about to tell me she was glad we made up, but she still didn’t want me around. Like, thanks, but bye. And then at dinner that night we sat across from each other, and I swear I caught her checking me out, like, twenty times. Probably because I was checking her out, like, forty times.”
He spun the bright red apple in his hand. “It’s been like that for the last few days. We catch each other staring. It’s the best feeling, that kick to the ribs I get when she looks at me and then looks away, blushing, smiling, sometimes glancing back again just for a second. Ugh,” he groaned, the force of their new friendliness racing through his bloodstream at light speed. “And now she wants to go for a walk tonight. Just us. I’m kind of freaking out. I know, I know,” he said, laughing at himself. “I’ve got it bad. Have ever since the first day I laid eyes on her. But, I mean, she’s Davis. She’s Davis ,” he said with extra emphasis, like that alone could convey all the ways she blew his mind, burrowed under his skin, lit him up from the inside out until he glowed. “You’ll understand if you ever get to meet her. ”
From where she stared at him a safe thirty feet away, River swished her tail, thoroughly unimpressed.
He shrugged. “What?”
He could have sworn she rolled her big brown eyes before dropping her nose back down to the grass, biting off a mouthful of fat green blades.
Leaning back, stretching out in River’s very clean pasture since she seemed to only use the northwest corner to do her business, Kev pillowed his head with his non-apple-holding hand and gazed up at a blue sky dotted by small, puffy clouds.
He knew his time with Davis was limited. Less than three weeks to find his way back to a real friendship with her. He didn’t dream of trying to convince her to stay. He supported her in whatever she wanted to do, whatever she needed to feel secure and fulfilled and happy. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to convince her to keep him in her life after she left.
He’d also cross his fingers and toes and use every single romance hero trick he’d ever read to maybe at least get a kiss. Just one more kiss from her, and he would die a happy man. He knew, of course, that this was a lie. One would never be enough. But that had to be part of recovery from addiction, right? Learning how to make a little be all he needed? Figuring out how to appreciate just enough of something?
He was about to ask himself if there was such a thing as just enough Davis Thompson, when the sound of hooves crunching over grass tickled his ears, growing louder with each step.
Keeping his body still, his eyes on the clouds, he wondered how good a horse’s hearing was. Could River hear his heart pounding? His breath catching? Maybe not, because she kept walking in his direction, one slow hoof in front of the other until her earthy, sun-warmed horse smell filled his nose.
Carefully, he slid his eyes to the side, catching her in his peripheral vision. She was maybe six feet away, her eyes on the apple in his hand, her fuzzy nostrils flaring. As slowly as he could, he opened his fingers, making his palm flat while she took another step toward him. Her warm breath gusted over his skin as she dropped her head to sniff at the apple, her gaze darting back and forth between the fruit and him like she was waiting for him to pounce, to grab her, take her from her herd, from her home.
I won’t hurt you , he told her silently, because he’d always been convinced that horses were, at least to some degree, telepathic. You’re safe with me.
Her nose nudging his palm zeroed out his thoughts, a hyperfocus on the softness of her whiskers, the solid warmth of her muzzle against his skin taking over. Risking the chance that he might scare her off, he turned his head. From his perspective, she was enormous, her body big enough to block out the sun.
While she pawed at the ground next to him, blowing out a quiet, rattling snort, the vulnerability of the moment set in. He was so small lying there in her shadow, insignificant, completely at her mercy. Memories of the sensation buzzed through him like panic, real fear tensing his muscles, his body preparing to either run or curl in on itself, protecting the parts of him that could be seriously injured by a boot or a fist.
Almost as if she could sense him spinning out—because, like he said, horses were telepathic—she finally sank her teeth into the apple in his hand, biting off a chunk, sending his memories skittering back into the darkness. Because only earning Davis’s forgiveness had ever made him feel so victorious.
The sound of her chewing so close to his ears sent a shiver down his spine, and after she swallowed another bite, he waited for her to take the rest of the apple from his hand and walk away. But she didn’t. She ate the whole thing right there, letting him hold it for her the entire time.
After finishing the last bite, she sniffed his hand for a few seconds to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Then she rose above him, standing her ground. Staring down at him while he stared up at her for what felt like a motionless eternity. Eventually, she dropped her head again, sniffing his knee, his thigh, his belly, his chest.
He was surprised by how okay he was with it, with lying there, holding still, being vulnerable while this horse checked him out. His heart didn’t hammer against his ribs. His skin didn’t crawl with the need to stand up, to be tall, to be big enough to defend himself if he needed to. His knee didn’t even want to bounce. Even when she nudged his hip, softly at first, then hard enough to make him roll a little. Even when she did it again, rolling him all the way over onto his belly. Even then, he just rested his cheek on his folded arms while she sniffed his shoulder, his back, his butt. While she nuzzled at his back pocket where, shit , he’d stashed a couple of mints from Jen’s office.
“You want one of those?” he asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “They’re my favorites too.”
She only snorted, and when he felt her teeth close around his pocket and tug, a tiny zing of panic shot through him. She was a very big horse, after all. And these were his only pair of jeans.
“I can get one out for you,” he suggested when she nipped at his pocket again. She was way too close to his ass, and he kind of liked his ass. He had, in his humble opinion, a good ass. A good ass he really didn’t want River to bite.
Gingerly, he reached back and pushed her nose out of the way, something he had to do twice because she just nudged him right back the first time. Then he fished one of the mints out of his pocket. With one more half roll, he ended up on his back again. Holding the mint in his closed palm, he told her, “I’m gonna sit up now, okay?”
Her tail swished, whipping through the air as she watched him like there was a non-zero chance he was actually a snake wearing a human suit. But she didn’t bolt.
Pushing himself up to his elbows, he waited, made sure she was still cool. Then he sat up all the way. “I just have to unwrap it,” he said before tearing the clear plastic wrapper with his teeth and dropping the mint back into his hand. “Still want it?”
Even though she seemed smaller now that he was upright, she was still intimidating as hell. And man , she was beautiful, so dark and shiny, so well built. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers down her nose, over the white blaze flowing between her eyes, scratch that place just under her forelock where most horses love to be scratched. But this was about trust. And trust had to be earned.
Holding out his open hand, he waited for her to make a move. In half a breath, she went for it, gathering the mint into her mouth and crunching it in utter bliss. He made a mental note to get more mints after she snatched the second one even more enthusiastically than the first.
Once the crunching was done, she licked his palm, then nudged his hand.
“That’s all I’ve got,” he told her. “I’ll get more next time—Hey.” He braced himself with a hand on the ground while she nudged his shoulder, pushing him. When she did it again, he laughed out loud. He’d been pushed around a lot in his life—by circumstance, by loss, by his dad, by the system. After twenty-eight years of weathering those blows, there was something almost cathartic about being pushed around by a horse. He wondered if it was cathartic for her too. It must have been, because she didn’t want to stop.
So he only sat in the soft grass, under the warm sunshine, letting her nudge him, push him, sniff him, rustle his hair with her muzzle while he laughed like he hadn’t laughed in a very long time.
Eventually, she lost interest in him and walked away to graze in the far corner of her pasture. The one with what looked like a little white shed tucked into the trees behind it.
With a smile still stretched out wide across his face, Kev stood up, stretched out his back, and left the mare to her peace and quiet. Hoping he also left one step closer to earning her trust.