Page 89 of My Cowboy Freedom
“Yeah. They’re both fucking retards.” The third guy’s laugh sounded high-pitched with relief. “It’s a match made in fag heaven.”
“C’mon.” Rock led me past Lefty and his little posse and I know the kind of strength it takes to back away from a fight but even so, in my whole life, Ineverfelt less like a man than I did right then. Was this how they made Rock feel all the time? I got lightheaded with rage just thinking about it.
“Sorry, Rock.” I said. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s okay. Come on. Just come into the shade on the other side of the road.” As he pulled me past those assholes, I leaned into him, borrowing his physical strength and the warmth of his skin. He whispered, “I won’t let you get into trouble because of me. I promise.”
But he couldn’t protect me. He couldn’t even protect himself.
“My hero,” I said, my words as corrosive as my shame.
“What’d I do?” His outrage was audible.
“Sorry.” I broke away to press my back against the wall next to the empty shell of an old, broken payphone. “It’s hard to back down when you’re used to fighting. Sometimes, it’s like a reflex.”
He braced his hands on either side of my head. Good thing Lefty and his little pals had gone inside.
“You gonna be okay?”
I nodded.
“Well, all right, then. I told you Lefty Wheeler is an asshat.”
“Yeah, you did.”
He leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I let my cheek brush against his. As I drew in a lungful of his aftershave, our beard stubble scraped together, sexy and soft—a stealthy rasping sound that made my blood soar.
Jesus.
I cleared my throat. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
I closed my eyes to keep from doing something even dumber than starting a fight in public.
He stepped back, a smile of pure male satisfaction hovering on his lips, just waiting to blossom on his face.
“Let’s go.”
I took a deep breath. Nodded. I still wanted to beat Wheeler like a goddamn bongo drum, but that was tempered, because I’d learned something important about Rock because of him.
I’d learned my instinct to protect Rock was mutual.
Some new seed of happiness took root inside me.
“Yessir.”
Before, I saw Rock as a kid who needed someone to stand up for him. I figured I could make myself useful—either backing him up or calling his plays.
But maybe what he really needed was a reason to stand up for himself.
Could I be that? Did he see me that way?
The icy fear of our close encounter left hope and a spark of warmth behind.
I startled when Rock laced his fingers with mine. I held him there. Forced him to look me in the eye.
It was Maisy who pulled us out of our trancelike state.
Apparently she’d spotted a tempting place in the dirt behind the parking lot to sniff but she asked permission with her brown doggy eyes, and then waited for Rock to release her.
Rock did, and I followed.
Of the three of us, only she had a clue what to do next.
