Page 83 of CowSex

“I’ve got my key, so there’s no need to wait up for me,” I call out. Koa stops what he’s doing, his back straightens, and he turns to look at me.

“Wasn’t planning to. Now that I’ve finally got the place to myself, I arranged for a friend to come over, even filled the hot tub.”

I flinch. I physically flinch at his words. Just like when he told for the first time that he’d never get close to a woman again while we were standing on Main Street, his words cause a pain in my chest.

“So, I’d appreciate it, if when you do get back, you’d head straight to your room and make yourself scarce.”

His eyes are glassy, and even if they weren’t, the way that he sways slightly and the slow way he’s talking are enough to give away the fact that he’s drunk.

“Perhaps I should just stay out all night then, give you some privacy?”

His chin jerks up at my words. His hands go to his hips, his eyes to the floor before coming back to me.

“That...” He pauses, performs his now familiar routine of a hair rake followed by a beard stroke, reaches for his glass and sips his drink, and then continues, “won’t be necessary, Essex.”

I hear a car approach, just as headlights appear through the glass of the front door. I start to put my jacket—that I’d been clutching against my chest—on, but before I’ve even got one arm in, Koa is there helping me.

Once both arms are in, I turn and face him. He’s standing so close that I can feel and smell his warm bourbon-scented breath on my nose and cheeks as he looks down at me. He reaches out with both his hands and untucks my hair from where it’s caught in my coat. Then he tucks it behind each of my ears before his right-hand cups the back of my neck, he closes his eyes and leans to rest his forehead on mine.

“Nice boots,” he says quietly.

“Thank you.”

“They match my ears perfectly.”

“Koa!” I try to sound like I’m giving him a warning, I probably sound more like I’m groaning, though, and once again, the flirty banter—flanter—between us seems like the natural progression.

“So your ears are fluorescent pink and made of leather?”

“Yep. Maybe you should wrap your legs around my neck in front of the mirror in my bedroom so that we can check and make sure, though?”

He’s not making this easy. We’ve barely spoken a word to each other for three days, andnowhe wants to start up again with the flanter?

“You didn’t have to say yes when he asked. If I’d known you were jonesing for ribs, there’s a better place in Aspen I would’ve taken you to.”

“But you didn’t ask.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You could ask me to stay now. Ask me not to go.”

“I could.”

I laugh. It escapes amongst a puff of air and is filled with sardonicism, not humour.

“But you’re not going to.”

“I think it’s best if I don’t.”

“Best for who?”

“You in the long term. I’m not what you want, you’re not what I need.” Another little painful squeeze of my heart. At least this time, I only flinch on the inside. Still fucking hurts, though.

“Well then, like the song says, 'what hurts the most is that we’ll never know what could’ve been.” I loosely quote the song by Rascal Flatts that we danced to Sunday as he sang into my ear.

A loud knock at the front door has us stepping apart. Koa swings the door open to reveal Lee, who has his arms braced on either side of the frame. He and Koa stare at each other without saying a word. I smile and make my way towards them.

“Look after her,” Koa orders.