Page 35 of Stay With Me
Neither of us talks the rest of the way to the newly built family barn where all of our personal horses are boarded. It burned down last summer, but we had a team clean up the aftermath and started rebuilding as soon as possible. Luckily, all of our horses were saved when Fisher risked his life to get all of them out after he was nearly knocked unconscious.
The barn’s close to our parents’ house, which is the main house on the ranch. Landen and I moved out earlier this year into one of the duplexes on the ranch hand quarters. He took the top level, and I moved into the bottom. We each have two bedrooms and bathrooms of our own space, which is nice after sharing a house with my brothers, Gramma Grace, and my cousin Mallory, but sometimes I miss the chaos. It gets lonely living alone, but at least we meet up every Sunday night for family supper.
“Wanna hang out tonight?” Landen asks once Sydney and Franklin are brushed and back in their stalls.
“Nah. I need to mentally prepare for the hell tomorrow night’s gonna be.”
His palm smacks my shoulder. “You mean the most epic party ever.”
“Right. Some of us still have to work this weekend.”
“You have cabin call. Big deal.”
Big deal? Says him.
Every afternoon, I work in The Lodge with the receptionist when the guests check in. Everyone who stays in the equine retreat cabins and wants to go trail riding must use the same horse during their stay. My parents wanted a curated experience for each guest, and they get a horse based on their riding knowledgeand age. It’s my job to pick the right horse for them, and then I call Waylon so he can get the right ones ready.
“I also train in the mornings,” I remind him, although Landen trains too during the off-breeding season.
“Complain to me when you’re jerkin’ off horses all summer.”
Landen loves to throw it in everyone’s face that he manages the breeding operation, which keeps him busy all summer. During the off months, he takes care of the stallions and is in charge of booking mares for the following year.
“You’re the one who volunteered for that position,” I remind him.
“Well, yeah. Who else gets to say they sell sperm for a livin’?” He waggles his brows and his tongue flicks between his lips.
“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” I shake my head on my way to my truck.
“Don’t forget you’re my DD bitch tomorrow night. You can drive Quinn and me back and then bring Lydia back to your place for a nightcap.”
“Pfft. I’m always your bitch. And I’m not bringin’ Lydia to my house, so she better have another ride home.”
“Aww, don’t be like that. Just occupy her for a few hours and then Quinn and her can Uber home.”
“No.”
“It’s mybirthday…” The taunting way he sings those words makes me want to punch his pretty boy face.
“Imma get wasted just so I don’t have to take you or the twins home. I’d rather pass out in the alley than bring her to my house.”
Landen shoves me into the driver’s side door before he goes around to the passenger’s side. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He’s right, and I hate that he is.
If I’m not in the safety and comfort of my house or my parents’, I’m not drinking.
Just the thought threatens an anxiety attack.
“You’re a dick.” I hop in, then buckle up.
I’m in hell.
No, this is much worse.
Lydia won’t keep her hands off me and Landen’s so obsessed with Quinn that he doesn’t even bother to come rescue me.
I spent the day finishing up work chores and then got ready to come out. Waylon and Wilder were jacked up and ready to party hours ago. My brothers and I met up at Landen’s to pregame—well, I drank water—and then I drove everyone into town. We hit up a Mexican restaurant first to get food into their stomachs and then walked to the Twisted Bull where I’m currently burning in hell’s flames.
