Page 58 of Wild Eyes
“Oh… On that, give him a bit.”
It’s Rosie’s turn to tilt her head.
“There’s a woman named Bree with him.”
Understanding dawns on Rosie’s face as she breathes out, “Oooh.” Then she shrugs and adds, “That’s fine. Scotty’s safety is more important to me than his privacy.”
When she turns to leave, I’m struck by the casual power she exudes. Rosie has a certain quality that makes you want to follow her. A natural leader, an effortless sort of confidence.
That’s why excitement surges through me when she turns back and says, “Oh! Drinks on Thursday? The guys have their bowling league, and my friend Tabby is free. You game? Or do you need more alone time?”
More alone time?
I don’t know what my work schedule will look like yet. But the prospect of more time alone feels borderline stifling. And Rosie is so…chill. Which is why I immediately respond with, “Count me in.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WEST
I’m antsy,so I head to the barn and start working my way through the horses. Grooming each one meticulously from head to toe. It’s therapeutic, taking them from dusty to shiny. Dull hooves to richly oiled. Tangled mane to perfectly flowing.
My brain feels full, more so than usual, so I let it wander as I gently scrub circles on Copper’s coat with a rubber curry comb—my first horse, the one that eventually kept me out of trouble. My parents’ threat of selling him out from under me if they got one more visit from the cops changed my tune.
That’s not to say I didn’t findanytrouble to get into. But I took a break from street racing and cutting class to hand out bags of pot to my classmates from behind the school dumpster.
That was a fucking dumb spot to start my illegal business, now that I think of it. Still makes me chuckle and shake my head.
My thoughts drift to Skylar, how angry she was when I tossed her phone. The immediate guilt I felt for having done it at all.
I think about Rosie and her fucking mouse. The way Skylar protected him simply because Rosie asked her to.
And I think about Bree. The accusation in her eyes followed by the loud growl of her engine as she peeled out of the property.
But most of all, I think about how flustered Skylar looked by her presence just before she ran away.
“Copper, old man. At least you’ve got my back,” I murmur, running a palm over his swayback and watching his eyelids go heavy. He’s old. Really old. I don’t like to think about the day he’ll eventually be gone, but at thirty-five, I know it’s close. So I soak up these moments with him. Buffing his coat to a bronze shine that reminds me of Skylar’s hair and making him bran mashes with a little too much molasses in them.
As I’m admiring him and what great condition he’s in for his age, the air shifts behind me. It’s a strange sensation, one I haven’t felt before. It makes me turn slowly, and I’m not at all surprised when my eyes come to rest on Skylar Stone. Hair in wild waves around her face, eyes curious, body language a bit tentative.
“Am I interrupting?”
“My conversation with Copper? Yes. I find it to be rude, but he won’t mind.” I toss the brush into the bin near the alleyway edge, biting down a smile when she chuckles.
“Is Bree gone?” She steps forward, peering around as though a woman I’m involved with might pop out of an empty stall half-naked and shoutSurprise!
“She is.”
“Okay” is all she says.
“I’m sorry I threw your phone in the lake,” I finally confess.
“I got your email.” She smirks at me as she walks my way.
“You love getting headlines. I figured I’d send you one that’s actually true.”
“Cute email. It really was kind of a dick move.”
“And not the good kind,” I concede, nodding.
