Page 47 of Perfect Cowboy

“Load the woodstove and come lie down with me in the bedroom. I won’t bite, promise.”

It’s already late and Gavin has always been an early riser. He doesn’t need to sit out here and watch the fire. It will be fine for a few hours.

“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbles.

“See you soon.”

I rush toward the bedroom and close the door behind me, leaning against it and panting like I just ran a marathon. I’m not surprised by his questions, but it’s not easy to reflect on the mistakes you made as a teenager when you’re an adult living with the consequences.

I change into shorts and then climb under the covers, wondering if Gavin is actually going to join me.

After the heaviness of the conversation we started, I’m not sure what’s in his head. But we’ve poked at old wounds enough for tonight.

I’m just drifting off to sleep when the door opens and his clothes hit the floor. He leaves the door cracked open, which I assume is to let the heat from the fire come in, and then he climbs into bed beside me, careful not to get too close.

The fire brings in enough light that I can make him out, but he’s still pretty shadowy.

“Now I have some questions for you,” I say sleepily.

“What’s up?”

The mood needs to be lighter – much lighter – if I have any hope of slowing his racing thoughts. He’s always been an over-thinker, and I can only imagine the scenarios he’s turning around in his head, wondering what he could have done differently to save me.

But there’s nothing.

I made the decision to move on, and after seeing the man he’s become, maybe it was the wrong one because I’d sure love it if he was still mine.

Maybe I should have stood by him like he would have done for me.

But I can crucify myself for those mistakes later.

“How tall are you?” I ask.

He pauses, probably confused by the question when he was likely expecting me to be serious. “I’m six-foot-three.”

“What’s your shoe size?”

“Thirteen.”

“How big is your dick?”

He laughs so hard that the bed shakes. “I had a feeling that’s where you were going with that line of questioning. Don’t you remember?”

“I never stuck a ruler against it.”

“You did a whole lot of other things to it, though,” he says, his voice husky with need.

Gavin was my first everything. I was all set to graduate high school as a virgin. It’s not that I was unattractive, but I was socially awkward.

Bookish, introverted, and ready for the next thing in life. High school seemed so juvenile, I couldn’t find my place, and all I wanted was to move on.

He taught me how to slow down and enjoy the moments rather than just wishing for something better. Often, the next thing isn’t quite what we were expecting anyway.

“Ten and a half inches.”

“Seriously?” I demand, tempted to get a ruler out right now.

“Yeah.”

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