Page 89
Story: Wyatt
I’m the first in the kitchen at the New House at half past three on Monday morning. I blearily scoop coffee into the coffee maker and fill it with water, yawning nonstop while I wait for the pot to brew.
I’m dragging ass. But I also feel wired, gripped by this insane, nervous energy I’ve never experienced before rattling through my body like a dog that won’t stop barking.
It’s the worst combination ever. My knees ache, and my eyes feel like sandpaper.
Also, my dick won’t stay down. That’s been fun.
It’s been less than thirty-six hours since I last saw Sally. But you’d think I’d been in the desert for forty fucking days and forty fucking nights for how deprived I feel.
For how nervous I am about the nice, normal conversation I’m about to have with nice, normal people.
Hello, parents. I adore your daughter, and I would very much like to date her. I promise I’ll treat her the way she deserves. The end.
That’s it. That’s all I have to say to John B and Patsy.
They know me. They love me. Hopefully, that means they’ll recognize that while I might have had my fun in the past, I’m serious when it comes to their daughter. They have to know I’d never intentionally mess with Sally or break her heart.
They have to know my intentions—my heart—are good. I’m opening up in a way I never have before, and that’s all because of Sally. Surely, they’ll see that.
Why then am I so fucking nervous?
Why can’t I stop smiling like an idiot, despite those nerves?
“I want you to be my guy. Not just the guy I have a good time with. But the guy I call, and confide in, and come home to.”
“I want you to stay.”
Only been waiting twelve years to hear those words.
I meant what I said when I told Sally I hadn’t been ready for her when we were younger. Not because I was stupid, necessarily—I did some really stupid shit, don’t get me wrong—but because I wasn’t ready to let someone in. I didn’t know how to be vulnerable. I hadn’t understood yet that trust was a two-sided coin. Yeah, you risk a lot when you trust someone not to break your heart, but you also have a lot to gain.
The poker player in me should’ve recognized that reward only comes with risk. Guess I needed Sally to teach me that lesson for it to really stick.
The coffeepot gurgles, letting me know it’s ready. I pour myself a giant cup and load it with cream and sugar. The mug stings my fingers as I bring it to my lips, my eyes rolling to the back of my head at the first sip.
Ain’t as good as Patsy’s coffee, but it’s still pretty damn delicious.
Sally and I agreed we’d chat with her parents first thing this morning. I wanted to see her yesterday. I wanted it so bad that I sent her a text before the sun was up, asking if I couldtake her out for another ride on the horses. She’d seemed to really enjoy that the day before.
Almost as much as she liked riding my mouth.
Goddamn, how much is this girl gonna like riding me? I’m fucking dying just thinking about it. I just don’t want to be doing that shit behind anyone’s backs.
I don’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Not that Sally ever made me feel that way. But it’ll be nice to date her out in the open.
To love her the way I’ve always wanted to love her.
I almost think she might love me too. She didn’t just like my tattoo; she wasobsessedwith it. She appreciated the thought that had gone into it, the sentiment behind it.
She understood and definitely didn’t seem turned off by it.
In fact, it seemed to turn her on in a big way.
I was all set yesterday to meet Sally at our horse barn, but then she got a call about an injured filly at a nearby ranch. She ended up spending the morning performing emergency surgery, and by the time she was done, I was tied up with a tractor that wouldn’t start and then a busted irrigation pipe that had flooded a good bit of the southwest pasture.
Sally texted megood nightat seven thirty, which I missed because I was helping Sawyer put Ella to bed. She doesn’t want to stay in her room these days, so bedtime has been a struggle. When I offered to help, I swear Sawyer teared up for a second he was so grateful. And so exhausted, but I guess that’s parenthood for you.
By the time I was able to respond to Sally a little after eight, she already had her notifications silenced.
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