Page 84 of Downpour

“You’re good. I’ll finish up.”

I left CJ with the horses and made my way back up the path to Ray’s house. The moment I stepped back inside, I knew I had made a mistake.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?” Ray shouted across the living room. “I thought you were going on a trail ride? Why the fuck are you bleeding? I swear, I’m going to kill CJ?—”

“Ray, stop,” I said, laughing. “I’m fine. I tried to pick up the barn cat and it got a little sassy with me.”

Ray paused, huffed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to give me blood pressure issues, you know that?”

I giggled as I took off my shoes at the door and opened the fridge. “You worry too much.”

“I think it’s justified.”

I pulled a soda from the fridge door and cracked it open. Before I could turn and shut the door, hands were on me.

“What—”

Ray pulled me down into his lap. He pushed the wheels backward and closed the fridge door. “You need to take better care of yourself, Sunnyside.”

“It’s just a few scratches.”

“That barn cat has been around since high school. I’ve seen the people she’s fucked up, and I’ve been one of them.” Ray’s hands roamed over my arms and shoulders, checking the scratches. He let out a soft exhale. “They don’t look too deep.”

“Told you.”

Ray gave me a sharp glare. “Do you need help cleaning them up?”

“I was going to rinse off anyway. I smell like sweat and horses.”

His hand curled around my hip. “You smell good to me.”

I laughed and pushed his chest. “Weirdo.”

He cracked a smile. “I’m just saying. It suits you.”

Ray gave me a ride to the bathroom as I sipped my drink. He placed me in the shower before throwing a clean towel at me from the dryer. After I rinsed off and disinfected the cat scratches, I found him on the couch with his laptop.

Every time I saw him sitting on the couch instead of the recliner, my heart swelled. It was an unspoken invitation to join him. The recliner was his alone, but I was welcome on the couch.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked as I curled up beside him, working a wide comb through my water-logged curls.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, attempting to close a video streaming app.

But he couldn’t hide what he had been watching.

“Do you miss it?” I asked, staring at the paused thumbnail of a rider on the back of a massive bull.

His silence spoke volumes. The answer was evident in the clenched flex of his jaw. “My old manager wanted me to watch this kid ride and send back some critique.”

I snorted. “Sounds like he’s slacking off.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but that was all.

“I miss it,” he admitted. “I hate watching it from this fucking couch. I know I’m supposed to believe that there was a purpose for my accident. You know—all that positivity bullshit that Christian can spew at the drop of a hat.” He sighed and closed his computer. “But I don’t see the good in it. And I don’t thinkI ever will. I still can’t write my own damn name, and it’s only three letters.”

I curled into his side and rested my head on his shoulder. “I don’t think you have to find the good in it. Sometimes there is no good to be found.”

Ray looked at me curiously. “Did you fall and hit your head on that ride, Sunnyside?”

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