Page 139 of Knotting the Cowboys

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Me: Because it's my FAVORITE. You don't wear your favorites, you save them

Cole:

Cole: Just exhaust her and bring her home late. We need time to finish

The suggestion hangs there, loaded with possibility.

Exhaust her.

My mind immediately goes places it shouldn't—flashes of all the ways I could tire her out, make her sleep the deep, satisfied sleep of someone thoroughly taken care of.

The kind of exhaustion that comes from pleasure, not anxiety.

Me: And if I don't bring her home at all?

Cole: Then you better have a damn good explanation

Me: Your approval is all the explanation I need

Cole: Do NOT use that angel emoji when we both know you're thinking with your dick

Me: Who says I'm thinking with my dick? Maybe I'm being a gentleman

Cole: You carried her out of town like a caveman and kissed her in front of god and everyone. Real gentlemanly

Me: She needed it

Cole: She needed YOU to stake a claim in front of her ex?

I consider that for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Did she need it? Or did I need it?

The line got blurry the moment Blake opened his mouth, the moment I saw her shoulders hunch like she was trying to become smaller. Everything after that was pure instinct.

Me: She needed to see someone choose her. Publicly. Proudly.

The dots appear and disappear several times, like Cole's writing and deleting responses.

Finally:

Cole: Yeah. She did.

Cole: Doesn't mean you get to keep her out all night

Me: If I did, that's on you for giving permission

Cole: I did NOT give permission

Me: "Exhaust her" sounds like permission to me

Cole: Exhaust her with FOOD. And TALKING. Jesus Christ

Me: Sure. We'll go with that

Cole: Maverick, I swear to god

Me: What? I'm agreeing with you. Food and talking. Very exhausting.

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