Page 9 of Coming to Grips
The Giants score a handful of runs, and Kyle stands with a snort. “No surprise how this is going to end. I stink and need a shower. Feel free to join me.”
“Oh, uh...I’m fine.” He flashes Kyle a smile. “I rinsed off earlier, but thanks.”
“Well, look at you being all self-sufficient and shit.”
“Yeah, that’s me—the one-handed wonder.” Chase offers a single jazz hand.
Kyle chuckles and, with a wink, yanks off his tee shirt and heads for the bathroom. “Then I’ll shower all by my lonesome I guess.”
“Just think, you can have all the hot water to yourself,” Chase yells after him, grabbing the remote.
Kyle makes some sort of reply, but Chase doesn’t catch it because the door closes before Kyle gets more than a few words spoken. Something about “hot” and “cowboy,” and Chase really has no fucking clue what’s he talking about.
It’s[Possibly delete this scene…]barely after seven, and the day is starting to catch up with him. He’s sapped of strength, but if he wants to get out of this cycle of exhaustion, he’s got to keep pushing. Pushing to stay awake, pushing to gain his strength and endurance back. Maybe a walk and some fresh air before bed will help get him back on track. Tapping on the bathroom door, he opens it a crack when Kyle responds.
“I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Take your phone.”
He grabs his phone and wears the sling the hospital sent home with him. It’s still light out, but the ranch bustle has died down. A sheen of sweat immediately covers his exposed skin, and his tee shirt sticks to his back before he’s halfway to the horse barn. Ah, yes, July in Texas.
Chase checks on Jewel first, and she seems none the worse for wear after being spooked by the backfire. She nudges his hand for a treat and he apologizes, rubbing his hand along her forehead and scritching around her ear. He should have thought to bring some carrots or an apple, but he’s been struggling to think straight, what with the accident, his injury, and Anna’s reappearance.
The horses all recognize his voice and half a dozen of them hang their heads over their stall gates. He dutifully says hello and strokes the muzzle or pats the jowl of each and every one.
There’s a hard-packed dirt path that leads out to some of the far paddocks. Usually, Chase rides out there, but he can’t saddle a horse, much less ride one at the moment, nor is he in any hurry. He’s got nothing but time on his hands. He can’t do much about his injury except to dutifully complete his exercises every day, twice a day, and attend rehab three days a week.
Chase walks along as the sun seems to barely move toward twilight. It’s July, though, so he’s got another hour and a half until dark. He keeps walking and lets his mind wander. Anna comes to mind, but, God, she’s the last thing he wants to spend any brainpower on.
Maybe he should call his mom, see how she’s doing, let her know he’s feeling better. He pulls out his phone and decides against it. The battery’s only at nine percent—plenty of charge to call for help if he needs it. Not enough for a conversation with his mother.
The buzz of the cicadas deepens; his shirt sticks in more places and his lungs feel tight in the humidity. The darkness in the east creeps farther toward the west, and he keeps walking.
Anna’s claim that Kyle has a thing for him suddenly springs to mind. The thought is still ludicrous. Why would she even say that? Her claim can be chalked up to purely spiteful intentions. Although why she thinks Kyle liking him would bother Chase, he has no clue. But even if Kyle did like Chase, so what? Lots of people get crushes on their friends and then they get over them.
The sun finally drops below the horizon and Chase finds himself at the far side of the ranch. His arm throbs despite the sling he’d dutifully worn and he’s winded. If he was tired when he left the cabin, now he’s completely spent. Can he even make it back? Eventually, sure, but he hasn’t got the energy, and he’s pretty sure he hasn’t got the wherewithal. He’d probably curl up in the dark somewhere and sleep. He texts Kyle to come and get him.
Chase settles at the base of a light pole while he waits. He soaks up the heat like a sponge, the buzz of insects, the solitude. He hasn’t been completely alone in days. Much as he loves Kyle’s company, this is nice.
The thud of hooves announces Kyle’s arrival twenty minutes later. Adrenaline spikes his pulse when Kyle and Whiskey trot into view. Chase clambers to his feet. He expected the truck.
“You all right?” Kyle asks once he’s drawn the horse to a stop and slides to the ground.
He’s not frantic and freaked out like Anna would have been, calling every ten minutes until Chase would have had to turn his phone off for a moment of peace. Kyle has allowed him his space.
Seeing Kyle here and realizing they’re riding the horse back together brings a mild attack of jitters. He’s got no reason to fear riding Whiskey even if he were riding her alone one-handedly. She’s a mature horse, docile and calm.
“I’m okay,” Chase says. “I just had to expend some energy, you know? I’m not used to lying around doing nothing.”
“Gotcha.”
Chase eyes Whiskey who wears no saddle, just a bridle and reins. “How’re we doing this?”
“I’ll boost you up and then ride behind you to handle Whiskey.” Kyle wears a pleased expression. “I thought you might enjoy a ride.”
A bubble of happiness bursts within Chase and he smiles. Yeah, he would. It’s only been a few days, but he’s missed being out in the fresh air and spending time with the horses.
A few minutes later, they’re situated on Whiskey’s back and Chase is enveloped by Kyle’s well-built frame. The only place they touch is Kyle’s shoulders and arms around Chase’s in order to hold the reins and Kyle’s thighs and knees along Chase’s hips in order to keep his seat.
