Page 111 of Can't Kiss the Chef

“The big bad hockey player is afraid of a sweet old horse?”

It’s the challenge in those forest green eyes that has me opening the stall door. The moment I walk through that door it’s clear Cookie is protective of her mom. She lets out a little huff that has me taking a step back.

“It’s okay, just give her some back scratches and she’ll love you forever.”

I’ve ridden horses with Lola before but normally I just have to jump on and we ride. Standing this close, a handful of steps away in an enclosed space just doesn’t feel natural.

Lola places a hand on either side of my gloved hand and strips it off. I’m not sure if it’s the weather or Lola’s touch or the dropping November temperatures that sends chills up my arm, but Cookie doesn’t care. She lets out this sound that should have popped my eardrum.

“Fuck!” I tense, feeling the heat run to my cheeks.

I look like fucking coward.

“Try not to act so tense. She’ll pick up on your nerves.” She plants a soft kiss on my cheek. The sweet gesture helps ease the nerves.

I look at a Cookie and I swear she’s taunting me.

I promise I won’t kick you. Or shit on your Timberlands.

I tell myself I’m not scared of this nine hundred pound animal. I run hand down her back as she snuggles into Lola’s shoulder.

Seeing my black clothes loving, scowl wearing tattoo covered girlfriend melt into the touch of her beloved horse is why they teach us to never judge a book by the cover.

“I guess she’s not so bad,” I relent.

Lola’s face lights up at my revelation. I step back and let Lola get to work. I’m in awe how swiftly she moves. That she’s able to talk to me without missing a step.

I settle on the bleachers, about mid-way up so I can get a full view of the course she is working on today.

For as long as I’ve known her, Lola’s trust hasn’t been something that comes naturally to her. Just by the way she settles herself into the saddle it’s clear that Lola and Cookie have a synergy that I can’t fully comprehend.

Where Lola guides Cookie follows. It’s not a one sided relationship, like the ones Lola has been a part of the majority of her life. They work together to navigate the course knowing that one can’t accomplish what they need to without the other.

My phone vibrates against the bleachers and I snag it quickly so the noise doesn’t startle the other riders.

Coach Stevens:

Please meet me in my office as soon as you can.

Well fuck.

I send Lola a text quickly explaining why I left and call an Uber.

Ten minutes later my butt is planted in the very uncomfortable arm chair across from Coach’s desk.

“Byron,” Coach says in his don’t shit with me tone. It quite honestly has me wondering what the fuck I’ve done wrong in the last eighteen hours since I last saw him.

“I had a meeting with Mr. Holloway and the alternate captains. I know that your parents just moved to Westvale and we wanted to know how you felt about your parents coming with us on our next road trip?”

I’m in disbelief. It’s not often that your parents are asked to join the team like this. I actually don’t think I’ve seen it be done before.

“I would love that, but are you sure? I don’t want it to be a distraction from the rest of the team.”

“None of us think it will be. We don’t want you missing this Thanksgiving with your parents. Time is precious Byron, don’t waste it.” Coach’s normal unreadable eyes grow soft, sorry really.

I’m not sure what I can say to accurately express how I’m feeling. The “Thank you, Coach,” I eventually choke out doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling.

I give him a hug on the way out. I don’t forget the fact that this man has been a father figure to me since I stepped foot on campus.

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