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west

I didn’t have a fucking clue what time it was when I finally came to. I was numb from head to toe and it had nothing to do with sleeping on the stable floor. Sitting there with my eyes shut, I tried my best to bury memories of last night—of falling apart after having sex with Jackson. Fuck, I had sex with Jackson.

I had sex.

My brain struggled to wrap around those words. Around that concept.

That familiar tightness built in my chest as I struggled to push away the memories. I should’ve said something… should’ve stopped… should’ve done something.

Except I did do something.

I kept doing what I thought Jackson wanted me to do at my own expense.

I groaned, dragging the hood of his sweatshirt down over my face and letting my head thud off the stable wall. How fucking pathetic was I? I was fucking lucky if Jackson wanted anything to do with me after this. He had to see there were better people to date out there—normal fucking people who could do things like have sex without panicking.

A grumpy-sounding neigh ripped me from my own thoughts. I frowned as I leaned forward, turning my head to listen closely.

“Shush now, sassy thing.” Peter? What the fuck was Peter doing in my goddamn stables? “Hey, don’t you dare. I like my fingers where they are! Shush! Oh, come on now. Don’t do that. No, no. Uh-uh. Come here, sassy thing.”

Jesus fuck, he was trying to move Betty. Only one horse in my stable was stubborn enough to make a man beg.

The kid was going to get himself bit while trying to manhandle her.

I stumbled to my feet, shoved off my hood, and hurried out of the stall to rescue him. Peter stood arguing with Betty while she pulled back from him slowly. I clicked my tongue twice and her ears perked right up. Her head jerked hard to pull away from him.

“Easy, girl,” I rasped, my voice rough and my throat uncomfortably dry. I smoothed a hand over her back. She stilled, her head swinging in my direction. “No one’s taking you anywhere.”

“I just figured—”

“They’re my responsibility,” I told him gruffly. “My horses.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded slowly. He took a few steps back to give us space. It wasn’t his fault that I was grumpy. Hell, the kid was just trying to help. I didn’t have a clue what fucking time it was, but if Betty was getting cared for, I’d missed all my fucking duties for the morning.

“I…” I faltered as I ran a hand through my hair. “Thanks for taking care of them.”

“My pleasure,” he replied with a smile that was all too easy.

“Have you seen Jackson?” I called after him as he went to leave.

“I told him to take the day off,” he said. He what? No one told Jackson to do jack shit, especially one of his employees. “Figured he could use it after I found him saddling the horses wearing his slippers this morning.”

His fucking what?

Fuck. He covered for my stupid ass being passed out.

Jackson had been asleep in his truck when I finally came back in. I should’ve woken him up. That would’ve been the right thing to do. Because of me, his whole day was fucked up .

All of this was my fault.

“Thank you,” I replied quietly. “For helping him.”

“Anytime.” That smile got wider for a brief moment before he disappeared, leaving me alone with my guilt and my horses.

I worked my ass off all afternoon and evening. I had to do something considering I’d skirted doing all my fucking work in the morning. The guilt was fucking awful. In less than twelve hours, I’d managed to fuck up so much of Jackson’s day. The least I could do was make sure the rest of my duties were done perfectly.

Somewhere after ten, I managed to drag myself into the house. I was exhausted, sore, and miserable. I knew the smart thing to do was eat and go to bed, but as I stood in the hallway, I realized I didn’t want any of that.

All I wanted was Jackson.

But did he want anything to do with me?

I stared up the dark stairs wondering if he was even awake. Probably not. I should’ve just left well enough alone, but I didn’t. Instead, I made my way upstairs and snuck into his room while he slept with my side of the bed clear.

“While I’m good with you coming to bed,” Jackson mumbled sleepily, “if you try to crawl into my bed wearing the same clothes you had sleeping on the floor of the stables, I’m going to beat your ass.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. Just the sound of his voice was comforting in ways I didn’t know I needed.

“Fair enough,” I replied. I stripped down to my boxer briefs and dug through his drawers until I found a shirt of his to wear. The old material scratched uncomfortably against my skin, but I forced myself to put it on. I didn’t feel like going downstairs just to find my own clothes.

Carefully, I crawled into bed, keeping to the edge and away from him. I hugged one of the spare pillows to my chest and curled around it for comfort.

“Missed you today,” he let out.

“Missed you too.” I meant that .

“You can move closer,” Jackson told me. I wasn’t sure that I trusted myself to get any closer to him. And the idea of touching him? Just the idea made my skin crawl. After a long heartbeat, he added, “If you want.”

“I’m good here,” I said. And I was. Next to him was good—felt good. I was okay with this. I wanted this.

“West?” he began, and I made a small sound. “You smell like a goddamn horse.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Don’t. But you are changing my sheets tomorrow,” Jackson whispered. A quiet chuckle passed through me. Sounded about right. But there were worse things than doing Jackson’s laundry. “Night, West.”

“Good night, cowboy.”