He shakes his head, lifting the beer for me to see.
“Cheers then.” I tilt my bottle in his direction before taking a long, drawn out sip, not removing my eyes from his as he does the same. Holding his gaze for longer than a few seconds has been my favorite game to play, and every time, he wins. There’s only so long I can look at him without wanting to climb him like a tree or thinking about his thick salt and pepper beard between my legs.
Damn it. Here I go again. I drop my gaze, fixating on my drink now. “Are you done for the day?” I ask, changing the unspoken topic, the one where we pretend there’s nothing going on here, and we can just be ranch neighbors.
He shows me the beer again. “Was this my tell?”
I shrug. “That, and your nonchalant stance. You only look relaxed after your work is done. It’s like you wake up with a stick up your ass, and, until you drive your body ragged, you don’t pull it out.”
Sometimes, I surprise myself with the shit that comes out of my mouth.
He narrows his eyes, his signature move, and takes another sip. Kay then.
I pat the spot next to me. “Wanna come watch the sunset with me?" I’m a masochist. I have to be.
He refuses with a shake of the head.
“You know, one of these days, I’m going to stop inviting you to do things, and you’re going to miss it so, so much.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. Wanna bet on it?” I smile when he tilts his head to the side. It’s hard not to when I can always get a rise out of him with my silly little comments.
That’s all they are to him and everyone in my life. Maybe I just need to act a little less unhinged for people to take me seriously.
You’re not too much, Riles.He said so himself yesterday, but clearly, I am.
“No need. Sorry about that.”
He takes my offer, dropping to my side, taking his worn hat off and setting it beside him. His hair is so damn perfect; it’s a shame he hides it under that hat all the time. The sun setting casts a glow over his features, showing the wrinkles and lines from a life well lived, and I find myself a little jealous of him and everything he must have seen and done. What would it be like to walk through life fixing things and not breaking shit like a damn devastating tornado? Maybe it’s not the unhinged actions, but the careless ones that earn me the untrustworthy descriptor.
Except I’m not careless. I swear, I’m not. I’m just clumsy. A little chaotic, one hundred percent full of energy.
There’s nothing wrong with that, though. At least, there shouldn’t be for the right people. I’m enough for the right person, and I will repeat that over and over again until I believe it myself.
Hewasright. I am not too much.
I am not too much.
Wait, did he apologize? “Did you just apologize?”
“Very funny.” He shows me a careful smile. And damn. With a smile like that, you’d think he’d do it more often.
I gasp playfully. “And you smiled? Fully smiled?” It’s not the first time I've seen him smile, but it’s the first time I’m this close to him to notice the lines near his eyes and how they crinkle even more, or the little dimple hiding behind his perfect beard, as if he couldn’t be more perfect.
I mean, he could, if he opened up a little instead of keeping things in—like he’s wearing impenetrable armor.
He takes a sip of his beer, and I take it as my cue to do the same, savoring the last few drops I have left in mine. I’m trying to cool myself now that I’m sitting so close to him, but it's futile.
What was I thinking?
It’s impossible when he’s this close to me and his scent wraps me up in a tight hug. Or when his fingers dig into the ground the way I picture he would on my ass in my dreams. Because yes, unfortunately, the damn grumpy cowboy has been crashing those, too, and they don’t end until my hand is between my legs and I’m moaning his name.
“Where’d you go?” he asks, searching my features for a tell I’m sure he got the minute heat rushed up my neck.
Fuck, fuckity, fuck.
Obsessed is an understatement, and maybe, just maybe, if we fuck once, I can get it out of my system. But how does one go and tell this manhey, want to fuck for shits and giggles so I can go back to having a half-functioning brain cell as opposed to not being able to function at all?