Page 6 of Crossroads

FIVE

“Get. Up.”

No way. There’s no way he’s here right now.

I’m fast asleep. This was all a nightmare, and I’m going to open my eyes and be back in the city in my nice comfortable bed. Maybe next to a beautiful girl who kept me company last night.

“Get your ass up, or I’m going to get a bucket of water.”

Fuck. Me. I grumble, my whole body on fire. What the hell? I’m in good shape. I even ran track and was on the swim team in school. One day of shoveling shit and tossing hay bales, and it feels like all four limbs are going to fall off me.

I don’t want him to see the pain I’m in. I know, without a doubt, he’ll just mock me. So I do my best to sit up without grimacing.

But the fucker is watching me, his lip curled up in a snarl. “Is this the first hard labor you’ve ever done? Not used to lifting anything heavier than your credit card?”

“Fuck off,” I grumble, looking out the window and seeing it’s still dark out before turning my head to look at the prick in my bedroom. He’s wearing dirty jeans, a T-shirt, with ugly-ass work boots on his feet, and a black baseball cap pulled down over his blond hair. “The sun’s not even up yet.”

“That has no impact on whether we are or not. Chores start before sunrise.”

“That’s fucking crazy,” I say, flopping back onto the bed, my entire body screaming in agony as I pull the covers back up over me.

But just as I’m closing my eyes, the covers are ripped off me. “Get u—why the hell are you naked?”

I don’t bother covering myself. It clearly makes him uncomfortable, and I’m fine with that. Despite the pure agony I hope I hide, it’s extremely satisfying to lift one arm up and tuck it under my head, morning wood on full display, as Jasper does everything he can to look anywhere else.

I don’t know why I decided to fuck with him yesterday, not that being gay is a joke. But the fact that it made him so clearly squirm was without a doubt the highlight of my day.

Fucking small towns and small minds, man.

I don’t know how they survive with such tiny little minds. “Put that thing away.” He’s actually covering his eyes. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

I look down at my cock, standing tall and proud between my legs, the metal of my piercings along the top of my shaft shining even in the dim light.

I got them a few months ago. Just two instead of the full ladder and near the head of my dick.

It was on a whim, and yeah, it hurt like a motherfucker.

“Not currently. What’s the matter? Never seen a frenum piercing before? ”

He’s still covering his eyes, but I can see his expression go from horror to confusion, then back to horror. “What the hell is that? I’ve never . . . No!” he says, all frazzled and frantic. “I’ve never seen a fucking pierced dick before. I’m not gay.”

I snicker. God, he’s fucking ridiculous. “You’re telling me you’ve never seen another dick besides your own?” I can’t stop myself from taunting him.

Besides, he has corn-fed football player written all over him. “What? Of course, but I don’t like . . . study them. It was in the locker room,” he says, dropping his hand from his face now but still looking up at the ceiling. “I played football.”

I snort because fucking duh. I have this guy totally figured out for sure. I finally roll out of bed because it’s obvious he isn’t going away and find a pair of jeans to tug on. “Then stop studying mine.”

“What?” He says that a lot. His eyes snap to mine just as I’m buttoning my jeans. “I wasn’t looking. Who the hell sleeps naked like that? And you just . . .” He waves his hand in front of himself, clearly searching for words. “You just let it all hang out there. No fucking shame.”

“Why would I be ashamed?” I walk a little closer to him, noticing the hitch in his breath as I approach. “You saw it. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

He gulps. Like actually gulps, and my grin widens, proud as hell I got this big ole farm boy all scrambled. He takes a step back, nearly hitting the wall in the process, just like last night.

“Breakfast is ready. Then our day starts.”

“Can’t wait,” I say as he makes his escape out of the bedroom, and I’m surprised he doesn’t fall on his ass with the way he rushes out of here in such a hurry.

At least I have some entertainment for the next few months. And here I thought I was going to be bored.

I did manage to take a shower last night before passing the hell out in bed, so I grab a shirt and pull it on before padding downstairs in bare feet. I can smell the food before I see it when I get to the kitchen. Kelly is the first to greet me, her smile bright and welcoming.

I really don’t understand how she’s related to my mom. Or me for that matter. “Good morning, sweetie. How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” I barely grit out, trying not to be a total dick to her, but I really don’t know how to respond to such a bright greeting this early in the morning. “Coffee?”

“Help yourself,” she says, pointing to a coffee maker that has to be as old as I am, at least, and is just one giant pot of coffee instead of the single serve I’m used to. That tracks. I grab a mug and pour a steaming cup before making my way over to the table.

A large, hearty plate is plopped right in front of me, and I take in the stack of pancakes, the pile of bacon, and the fluffy heap of eggs before I look up at my Aunt Kelly’s shiny bright face. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

“Umm . . .” I look at the plate again, overwhelmed beyond belief. “Can I just have some yogurt or something?”

I hear my cousin Millie snickering as she sits across from me, a derisive snort from my uncle, who I’ve said maybe three words to in my life, and then look over to see Jasper shaking his head with a huff as he shovels a bite into his mouth.

“Oh . . . um . . .” I can see my aunt is struggling, and I wave her off.

“Never mind. This is fine. Thank you,” I say, picking up a fork and stabbing some of the eggs, bringing it to my mouth.

She watches me until I finally take a bite and chew, then smiles, pleased, and walks back over to the stove to do something—I don’t know what, but please God don’t let it be making more food.

“You boys going to start with the fence by the pond today? Damn cows.”

I don’t know what that has to do with cows, but Jasper seems to be amused as he smiles and nods at my uncle. “Yes, sir. First thing on the list this morning.” He has a look of fondness on his face. “And they couldn’t help that they got spooked. I think you mean damn hunters.”

John smiles at that, taking a big bite of his pancakes. “True. I don’t know why they think they can just shoot off their guns around your big babies.”

“Oh, Jasper and his cows,” Millie says, teasingly.

“Cows are awesome. Don’t act like you don’t like them.”

They all continue talking about cows and other things I tune out because I have no interest whatsoever. I’m just here to do my time.

After breakfast, Jasper hands me a pair of dirty, muddy, dusty work boots. “I’d wear socks with them or you’ll get blisters.”

“I’m not wearing those monstrosities,” I say, not taking them.

He just holds them out, his eyes trained on me. “Yes. You are. Take them.”

I can feel the three other pairs of eyes on us as we stand there and decide it’s just not worth it. I grab them from him and huff up the stairs, grabbing socks and pulling on the stupid, hideous boots before stomping back down.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jasper asks, happy with himself.

“Let’s get this day over with.”

“Have a nice day, boys!” Kelly says, way too happy, but she’s impossible not to like, I realize, and wave to her on my way out.

It’s bullshit on top of bullshit as we go about the day.

We fix a fence, which sounds simple but took forever because it wasn’t just one little section.

The big-ass cows took out an entire portion of the old wooden fence.

It’s hot already as the sun comes up, and the entire day, I’m just cursing my own mother.

Maybe I don’t need college.

By noon, I’m almost certain I don’t when I trip and fall face-first into a pile of fairly dry manure. And I’m almost positive Jasper put that bucket behind me, though he did act awfully surprised by the whole thing—but then burst out laughing.

We eat lunch at the house—Kelly trying to be polite about the stench while Jasper was busy wrinkling his nose. Like he smells like goddamn daisies or something. He doesn’t.

We’re both baked by the sun and filthy by the time the sun starts to set and finally call it a day.

“Are you going to fight me on the shower again tonight?” he asks as we make our way back up to the house.

“Why? Offering to shower with me again? You really did have an awakening yesterday, huh?” I grumble, my entire body aching as I sludge up the drive toward the house.

“You need to stop that shit,” he says, grabbing my arm to halt our walk.

I glare at him and jerk out of his hold. “What shit?”

“That . . .” Here comes the frantic flailing. “The whole . . .” he looks around, even though the only sign of life around us are cows chewing on grass on the other side of the fence. His voice is lowered when he looks back at me. “Gay thing.”

A started laugh falls from my lips, and I cannot with this guy. “Gay thing? Do you fucking hear yourself right now?”

His lips go into a furious little pout, and I realize I really like that.

More than I want to admit. I’ve never been with a guy before—never really wanted to.

But I’m not a close-minded asshole, and I wouldn’t take it off the table.

This guy though? Yeah, that’s not happening, no matter how pretty he is when he pouts. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I do. You were raised in Kensley. Probably never once been around—at least that you knew—anyone who identified as gay or anything on the rainbow.”

His nose scrunches, deep in thought. “Like what? Bisexual?”

I pat his arm mockingly. “Very good.” It’s over-the-top, and there’s that scowl and pout again. “But there are other identities too.”

“I know that, asshole. We have the internet here.”

My eyebrows raise at that, and he must realize his mistake because his eyes go impossibly wide.

“Not that I’ve researched that shit. I’m just saying. We know around here it’s just . . .” He snaps his mouth shut, and I toss my head back and laugh because wow. Kensley, Kansas, kind of breaks my brain.

“Right,” I say, not really believing he could name one other sexuality, but that’s fine. I’m not here to teach this country boy a damn thing.

“I’m just saying . . . you say that shit around the other farm hands or around other people from town and . . .”

“Aw, are you worried about me? I’m touched,” I say in an over-the-top taunting manner that might get my ass knocked out, but it would be worth it.

“Fuck off,” he grunts. “Get your ass beat. I don’t care.”

“Oh, good to know this town is even more vile than I thought.”

His cheeks are pink—but not with embarrassment, I don’t think. I think he turns pink when he’s angry. Interesting. “That’s not what I meant. I meant . . .” He throws his hands up in frustration. “Forget it. I don’t care. You aren’t my responsibility.”

He starts walking up to the house again, and I catch up to him, grabbing his wrist to stop him, and he immediately pulls away from me like I burned him or something.

Even though he was the one to do the same thing a moment ago.

“I can take care of myself. What the hell is your problem?” I suddenly feel a little bad for my repression joke yesterday.

“If you’re actually, you know . . . repressing some shit . . .”

“What?” he snaps angrily, and I think for a minute he might actually hit me. “I’m not gay. I’m not hiding that I’m gay. I have a girlfriend.”

“A lot of gay guys do,” I say, trying to keep my tone even, like I don’t care.

I’m not even sure he heard me though. “Well, I did. We broke up.” Again, interesting. I’m not sure why. “But not because I’m gay,” he says quickly. “She ended it with me.”

My right brow lifts in intrigue, and he snaps his mouth shut. “I can’t imagine why,” I say dryly.

“You know what? I don’t know why I even bother with you.”

“What exactly is your problem with me, huh?” I ask, taking a step closer to him, standing tall. He might have weight on me, but we’re fairly close in height, though, he is definitely taller than me.

“You’re a spoiled little brat with expensive shoes and an attitude I don’t like,” he says through gritted teeth.

“And you’re a holier-than-thou, angry country boy with an attitude I don’t like,” I spit out.

“Just stay out of my way, and we’ll be fine,” he says, staring me down.

“Deal.” I say, unsure why it makes my gut twist just saying that word. It’s not like I want to be around him, but I kind of have to be. I don’t want to be. I don’t. Who cares if he doesn’t like me?

He takes off toward the barn, and I split from him, heading into the main house and avoiding my aunt and cousin, who are sitting in the living room, looking perfectly content as I rush up to my room.

I don’t understand why I let that asshole get to me. Normally, I’m unshakable. It’s kind of my thing.

But one thing is for sure . . . Jasper has me shook. And I don’t like it.