Page 6 of Cowboy Crush
“Here’s your food,” the bartender says, setting a couple of bags down in front of her.
“Thank you.” She tosses some cash onto the bar. “At least not everyone in this town is an asshole.” She grabs the bags and gets up, walking toward the door.
The bartender, who I’ve known since high school, picks up the money and looks at me. “What did you say to her?”
I shrug, not bothering to look at her.
“You wanna sit here and be an asshole? That’s fine. But don’t run off the people who aren’t as miserable as you.” Without another word, she turns around and leaves me alone.
I let out a long breath. Finally.
I finish off my beer a little while later, and I leave the rest of the cash for a tip. I feel a little bad about being such an asshole to people who obviously didn’t deserve it, but what choice did I have? I tried getting them to leave me alone the polite way, and that didn’t work. Not my fault they can’t take a hint.
I walk out and climb behind the wheel of my truck. It starts immediately, and I start toward the house. I park in the driveway and let myself inside. I go straight back to the bathroom for a shower after my long day of work, and once I’m clean, I make some dinner that I eat in my lounge chair in the living room while I dive headfirst into the old country westerns my dad watched growing up. After our fight today, I pretend that he’s here with me, just out of sight watching with me. It makes me feel a little better, like maybe he’s on his way to forgiving me even though I know that isn’t the truth. Just another lie I tell myself.
5
HANNAH
Igrab my food and leave the bar. Climbing back behind the wheel, I glance toward the bar one last time, but he’s nowhere in sight. I want to hate this guy, but still, I can’t. There’s still something about him that I can’t put my finger on. I feel drawn to him in a way I’ve never felt drawn to anyone. It’s this nagging feeling that I can’t shake. He clearly isn’t interested in me, so why does my body keep insisting that I talk to him, that I get to know him, that I save him somehow? Save him? Why do I feel the need to save him? And save him from what? He seems just fine to me.
I shake my head and push all the thoughts of him away as I make my way back to the cabin. I walk in a little while later, holding the bags up in the air. “I have dinner!” I shout, and the girls come running to the kitchen.
“About time. What took so long?” Chloe asks, digging out an order of fries and stuffing them in her mouth.
I shrug. “Chill. You ate breakfast and lunch today. You’re not starving.” I feel like a mother getting onto them.
Summer laughs. “Maybe don’t try to be so fancy with dinner next time. Stick to the easy stuff. You know mac and cheese, chicken strips, spaghetti?”
I roll my eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”
We all take our food and go to the living room to eat. I’m not surprised to see the sequel to the movie we watched last night playing on the screen. I kick my feet up on the end table and hold my plate on my lap. I take a drink of my beer and dig in. The food is amazing, the burger juicy and full of flavor. The fries are a little cold from the drive, but I’ve had worse. I find myself eating and not even watching the movie. Instead, my mind goes back to that guy I keep seeing around town. The moment I think of him, my heart begins to race and my stomach fills with excited butterflies. Goose bumps break out on my skin as I remember how blue his eyes are, how sharp his jaw is, and how thick and sweet his lips look. I bet he’s pleased many women with those lips.
I think back to my time in the bar before I started talking. He was holding his beer, and his hands caught my attention. They had several small scars on them, his nails were short and clean, and his palms looked rough and calloused. I wonder what he does for a living? He’s a cowboy, right? I mean he’s always wearing Wranglers, boots, and a hat. I wonder if he works on a farm or ranch somewhere. Or maybe that’s just how he dresses when he’s not at work.
I remember catching another glimpse of that scar on the back of his neck when I sat down. It looks like he may have been cut straight down his spine. There are even marks on either side of it where it was stitched up. I wonder what happened to him? Maybe a car wreck or accident of some type?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when the credits roll on the movie, and the girls decide to whip up a pitcher of margaritas and get into the hot tub. I’m in agreement with a relaxing evening, so we change into our bikinis and remove the cover from the hot tub outside. The three of us climb inside with a drink in our hands. The ice melts quickly being held above the steaming water, but the drink stays cold as long as you drink it fast enough. Before I know it, I’m fully relaxed with nothing on my mind other than how much fun this trip has been so far.
“Truth or dare, Hannah,” Chloe asks.
I roll my eyes while Summer laughs.
“Not this again,” I say, sitting up a little taller.
“Oh, come on. What else are we going to do?”
“Fine…” I think it over. “Truth.”
She smiles. “Why were you really in Mr. Hall’s office on the last day of school?”
I snort. “I told you the truth last time, dumb ass. I was submitting my last writing piece.”
“Oh, come on. You were in there for like forty-five minutes! It doesn’t take that long to submit an assignment.”
I laugh. “I swear. I turned in my last piece, we talked about my future and how he thinks I should consider a career in writing if the whole fashion thing falls through. Nothing happened,” I insist. Mr. Hall is one of the younger professors at school. All the girls have a thing for him. He knows it too. But he’s a married man and acts like he doesn’t enjoy the looks he gets. I think that’s why the two of us got along so well. I was one of the only girls who didn’t hit on him or make him feel awkward.
“Fine,” she says finally giving up. She looks to Summer. “Truth or dare?”
