#and last night i made some goals for april & planned some things to do alone so <3 i think perhaps next month will be better !! đ¤
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good morning everyone !! i hope u all have a wonderful day <3 weâre so close to the weekend !!!
#i have an interview this afternoon and then one in the morning iâm a little nervous for them but#theyâre the second and third rounds so i canât mess up THAT bad#iâm feeling more motivated today so hereâs kunikida cheering u on HEHE#and last night i made some goals for april & planned some things to do alone so <3 i think perhaps next month will be better !! đ¤#new theme new month !! spring reset tehe
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April 𤯠2024 Monthly - Scorpio
Preshuffle: Your work/money situation is looking better than it has been, 5 Pentacles rev kept making an appearance, along with the 10. Youâve been confidently applying yourself to this area of life and itâs been taking its time but it looks like things are finally moving in your favor. Or they will and youâre finding that out.
Meditation: You were in a beat up (orange) pickup driving down a long dirt road, alone, singing John Denver at the top of your lungs. Happy as a clam, wherever you were going.
Main energy: 10 Pentacles
Some of you are traveling to visit family, you could live at a distance, or youâre moving back âhomeâ, could also just be visiting someone distant from you. For most this is solely about work and finances though, and 10 Pentacles is a great card to get for that. Iâm seeing positive things for any entrepreneurs, business is likely to take off if youâve been trying to get things off the ground, maybe youâve hit a lull the last few months and the change of seasons brings the people đ Some of you are taking practical action on an entrepreneurial idea youâve been playing with, with the goal being spending more time with family, someone of you may be switching to a position that is work from home a couple days a week or more. Itâs an upgrade, whatever it is.
Whatâs going on in April:
9 Pentacles:
You could be single, Seduction and this Ace of Wands could be showing someone you have your eye on if thatâs the case. Otherwise youâre happily independent, after maybe not being that way for awhile, youâve faced some kind of financial misfortune, Iâm getting material, money, jobs. Things not working out, or impulsive decisions/purchases leading to regret later on. Youâre more cautious these days about where and how you spend your money, or apply your efforts, youâre not committing to anything temporary, fly by night or just âfunâ. You want stable, long lasting, a legacy, 10 Pentacles đŻ If youâre starting your own business, you could be seeking to separate yourself from your day job - eventually, but up until now have have had debts, loans, credit cards, you name it. Thatâs being shown as taken care of now, or thatâs the goal in progress, moving forward youâre set to do whatever it is you want to do - 9 Pentacles is independent and has more than enough.
Knight of Wands:
This feels like some outside thing, an ex, another person, some spontaneous decision that led to a disaster of some kind. Could be some kind of accident, property damage, natural disasters, or some kind of sudden impulse purchase/decision youâve made - because of a disaster. Suddenly losing your job, any number of accidents, an unpaid bill, whatever the thing, The Tower came out of nowhere and sacked your finances, but all is not lost. You can rebuild, and 5 Pentacles rev at the bottom is showing you doing just that. For some, you could have a kid paying you off for some kind of financial help, or you could be the one thatâs doing that. If so, youâre almost there. If youâve borrowed money from someone itâs like the guilt and your pride are eating you alive, maybe you were struggling to get on your feet again, but youâre doing it.
The World rev:
Unfinished business, youâre not there yet but youâre working on it, little by little, youâve got a plan. Maybe a contract even, this can be likeâŚstill paying for a car thatâs been wrecked, for someone it feels like youâre not even getting anything out of this, but youâre stuck with it. Could be kids too, not that theyâre a burden (I hope not), but more that having to cooperate with the ex is. 10 Pentacles and Temperance can show keeping your cool for the good of everyone, still trying to show a united front - that could get in the way of your dating life if your eye is on someone new. Some of you are already with someone and this could be their disaster, contract, or impulse purchase youâre stuck paying for. Or thatâs switched. Someone doesnât want to give, if you have an ex thatâs always needing money, you could be stingy with it, or they are with you. Page of Pentacles can be child support, if that applies then thatâs IT, all they get, though they may ask. Someone is definitely helping someone out financially, and itâs a heavy burden to bear, this person could not be that well off themselves. I see conflict and snide behavior at the bottom along with this gift, if the guilt is eating you alive itâs because your grandma is on a pension and is going to remind you every week for the rest of your life so get it together mate - thatâs what I heard. Even the mate part, do I have Aussie Scorpios in here?
Page of Pentacles:
The plan is to give, to pay back, progress, whatever the case. Whoever needs money is being fully transparent and fair, and whoever is giving it is listing out their stipulations and expectations. For some this could have to do with legalities, contracts, child support, divorce, etc. and however this is going down will be fair for everyone - or thatâs the goal. Some of you are out of one thing and entering another just as quickly. Money could be coming in, possibly taxes, some kind of bonus or savings even, and thatâs being used to pay back someone. You could be allowing the other parent to claim the kids on âyour timeâ as a way of paying them back, everything here is financial and legal related, but itâs fair and no one is out to screw anyone. Some of you have simply borrowed a loan in order to start up a business, heavy entrepreneur energy, and youâre kinda freaking out about that (pressureee) but it will only motivate you that much harder to take action & put in the necessary work. You could be giving someone a job, or another person is doing that for you, some of you are going back to school or still in school and could be receiving financial help from family AND loans. However it fits. Mars season looks beautiful on you dahling đ
Queen of Pentacles & Ace of Wands:
This feels like your own energy, putting in the work đŻ Raising kids maybe, running a business, cooking and balancing, juggling responsibilities and cleaning, youâve got everything in a schedule, everything on a list so nothing gets missed. Itâs like youâre getting a new lease on life. For someone this could be someone new youâre attracted to and eager to be with, if so itâs right at the beginning. 9 Pentacles is at the beginning, 10 is your goal, whether thatâs in home or business, 2 Wands shows youâre planning on moving up - thereâs no staying put where you are. One goal down, on to the next, one bill paid off, on to the next, youâre definitely getting your shit together even if circumstances had you down bad for a minute. Youâve got motivation, inspiration, energy and an inner fire to get đ things đ done, even if youâre doing it on your own. All the more reason right? I see nothing but positive omens for potential growth, for someone this could be a job where the more you work - the more you make, like sales, and youâre taking full advantage of that, building your finances back up to where they were before this Tower thatâs occurred. Someone around you could be inspiring you, maybe the person you borrow money from, or lend it to even.
Signs you may be dealing with:
Heavy earth đ Virgo, Capricorn, Sagittarius, Pisces, Taurus & Aries
Oracle: â¨
22 Transformation đŚ
This situation youâre currently in is acting as a catalyst for a major transformation, either within yourself as a whole, or in some aspect of your life. Donât try to second guess yourself, or beat yourself up, and thereâs no use questioning or having regrets. Many of your issues and situations are not anything to be upset about. You are the one who infuses drama and chaos into the situation. This is an opportunity to grow and learn, rarely do these opportunities come when/how we feel they should, nor do they maintain a status quo or keep us within our comfort zones. Be thankful for this opportunity to transform and heal to a better and higher vibration.
Self-Love â¤ď¸
Self Concern - Self Healing - Independence
Profession đ§âđł
Expertise - Omniscience - Talent
Excitement 𤊠- Mercury Gemini
Seduction đ - Jupiter Pisces
We enter into April as:
Pink From Pinkton đ
âI am more than I think I am.â
Pink shows us the process of self-awareness. Are you trying to recapture a past moment that no longer fits? You may have outgrown something, and while it can be a challenge to admit it, being fully who you are is much more glorious than trying to fit yourself into the past. If you are presently upset or struggling with a difficult situation, it may be because you are trying to make something work when it simply canât. You may be seeking to keep something far less than what you deserve. With self-awareness and discovery comes a new obligation, using your new knowledge. New ideas, projects & opportunities can only come if you stop blocking them.
What is to be learned in April:
Sun Sparkler đ:
âIntegrity is what turns on the light.â
Sun Sparkler reminds us that it is through kindness to others and being of service that we are abundant. Are you living your life as fully as you can? Are you being honest and kind to others? Do you hold the door open for people on the elevator, or let it close? Do you let people merge over in traffic, or pretend not to see them? When we put a blinder on one area of life, it creates the same blind spot in every area. You canât shut out pain without shutting out pleasure too. Sun Sparkler reminds you of the miracle of honesty, it leads to integrity. You may have done work for another but do not expect a reward, revel in alignment with Spirit, self-esteem is the gift. Youâve been elevated to a new level spiritually, continue to serve others and life will prosper beyond your wildest dreams.
Yellow may be a lucky color đ
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A to Z, this moment is for you [AO3 or Keep Reading below]
Knights | 2.8k words
Tsukasa understood very well that work came first compared to this other early April obligation, if it could even be called such an important word. So, he responded with polite words and assurances that it was only curiosity piquing him, and that his dear members of Knights had no reason to reschedule their conflicts.
Birthdays happen once a year, and Tsukasa had plenty more of them to come. What deal is it if he spends one more alone?
a/n: happy birthday tsukasa!! i did post this on time on ao3 i just havent had the chance to post here until now. title is taken from birthday by red velvet ^^
Tsukasa was by no means a child. His sweet tooth and constant supervision from his familyâs maids aside, he was a young adult brimming with confidence that accepted all challenges thrown his way with earnest promise to turn anything into a success. He performed well to his parentsâ expectations, which for one half of his daily life meant he was the biggest and brightest star in the world. Yes, there was a lot to learn still with the family business, but anyone would look at him and comment on his maturity and finesse.Â
His idol life, on the other hand, was where he wished to receive the same treatment and respect. Itâs not short of his own faults that heâs treated like a âshitty bratâ; he started performing as a teenager and has nothing but a year of experience under his belt. A year spent mostly chasing around his unitmates to do anything , but regardless, a year of work and knowledge gifted to him.
He strived for improvement, for the acknowledgement from his unit and peers that he is a formidable idol. It was still a long way off, nothing to be accomplished in a single year, or even two or three, but it was his ultimate goal to be treated like a mature, responsible, and capable adult in all aspects of his life.
It was what Tsukasa told himself at least.
He stared at his phone, the messages from each member of Knights adding a lonely weight to his shoulders. Each one contained some explanation of the work they had planned for a particular day in early April, that it was something last minute, great exposure, or some other amazing opportunity.
Tsukasa understood very well that work came first compared to this other early April obligation , if it could even be called such an important word. So, he responded with polite words and assurances that it was only curiosity piquing him, and that his dear members of Knights had no reason to reschedule their conflicts.
Birthdays happen once a year, and Tsukasa had plenty more of them to come. What deal is it if he spends one more alone?
It was a big deal, actually, said the pile of tissues making a nice home for themselves on his nightstand. He was just lucky his roommates are out for the night, a shocking accomplishment considering the introversion of them both.
He sniffled and picked up another tissue to blow into- the hot tears falling down his cheeks frustrating him, making his chest tumble and twist. It was something about the most mundane things to shed tears about that made them feel all the more painful. He hadnât cried like this since the time he had bought a limited one day only crepe from a food truck only to trip and spill it all over the sidewalk.Â
He was not a young adult brimming with all the confidence in the world at all, he was Tsukasa Suou that cries because his unit was too busy to be with him on his birthday.Â
The idol side was the one thatâs crying these tears, he told himself. He hasnât spent every birthday alone, his parents could make some, but it was not an expectation he held onto. This past year at Yumenosaki he had seen all sorts of birthday events thrown for his peers. Heâd been invited to a few celebrations, something he relished in since before this the only ones heâd received invitations for were some family members he didnât know too well, random business associates he was invited to only if his parents were, or to Toriâs .Â
Knights, for as independent as they acted, usually had celebrations for each memberâs birthday. Of course, situations arose where it became impossible, and Family Tsukasa was used to that, but Idol Tsukasa was not. Family Tsukasa could handle anything, of course. Idol Tsukasa was nothing but an infant child, the baby of Knights.
He unlocked his phone again, quickly home screened out of his message app so as to not ignite more tears, and he swiped across the screen looking for the best app one could have at a time like this. His favorite food delivery app, only to be used in case of an emergency, and the blubbery tears heâs struggling to ease down definitely counted as such.
Ice cream never sounded so good.
âScrew you, Sena-senpai! Who cares about modeling in Milan,â Tsukasa muttered, finding the closest ice cream shop with the shortest delivery time. âStupid, stupid! Iâll eat three ice cream cakes on my birthday and he wonât be able to nag me at all.â
Tsukasa browsed the menu, delighted to see a wide variety of fruit based and chocolate-y options. âAnd I wonât worry about breaking out or touching any of my skincare since Narukami-senpai wonât even be here to see it!â He added a banana brownie batter sundae to his cart.
âRitsu-senpai loves making cakes so much he better approve if I put myself into a food coma!â A strawberry shortcake flavored 3 scoop added.
âAnd who cares about Leo-sanâs one man orchestra! He finally books something for himself and itâs that!? On my birthday of all days!â He tapped hard on his phone, adding 3 more ice creams of whatever flavors came up first. âIâll do five birthday cakes for myself! One for each senpai disappointing me day by day!â
His cart total was well beyond a number that will trigger an alert on his parents phone, but he throws his care out the window since they at least may have the sense to know what time of year it is and give Tsukasa this little bit of leeway.Â
He pressed the check out button, paid with his card, and waited ever so patiently with the company of his tissue box for his ice cream cakes to arrive.
Screw Leo. Screw Izumi. Screw Ritsu. Screw Arashi. Screw all of his lousy senpai.
---
Tsukasaâs face does in fact break out the next morning after his midnight sugar rush. Although in the moment he had been peeved off enough to curse Arashiâs skincare sheâs set Tsukasa on, he still feels guilt prickle at his chest when he tries to leave the bathroom in the morning without going through his steps. This, he tells himself, is just because he is a good, hardworking man that should take care of his face.Â
His face got progressively worse as the days passed by, but Tsukasa was used to the cycle of his acne flaring up from his sugar indulgences. He paid it no mind, even forgoing makeup since, well, he had no plans today .Â
None at all.
Nothing.
April 6th is just like any other day in the calendar year, though he supposed it is one of those days where it can really start to get hot outside for the first time in a while.
He wasnât quite sweating yet as he trekked across the courtyard of ES, but it was starting to feel uncomfortably warm in his current clothes. Spring is an annoyingly fickle season at times; for as beautiful as it is, it really canât make up its mind between frost in the mornings or heat waves by noon.
But he was on a mission, so he perseveres through the mild uncomfortableness and tells himself heâll be inside soon. He had received a message from Hinata, something urgent about limited time sweets in the ground floor conference room of the East building, so he was walking a little faster than usual. The message made it unclear whether Hinata had been experimenting and created new treats to try, or if some meeting had leftovers (not that asking Hinata to clarify helped, since his vocabulary changed from words to only winking emojis in an instant).
Either option was worth the walk though. Hinataâs sweet tooth aligned perfectly with Tsukasaâs, or if it was company leftovers, then Tsukasa could assume the quality was that of an expensive professional.
Making it across the lawn and pulling open the glass door, the metal handle refreshing and cool beneath his fingers, he stepped inside. He offered a small smile and nod to the receptionist, no need to check in, and made his way to the conference room.
There was no one occupying much of the space of the lobby or any of the chairs scattered throughout the hallways, so he started to lean away from there having been a meeting in the conference room to Hinata had been baking instead. There would be more buzz around, even if the meeting had already happened.Â
The East buildingâs conference room was one of the more private ones though, no glass walls to see through or windows looking in from the outside. It was downright stuffy , but it was the best option for having more privileged meetings.Â
Tsukasaâs hand lingered at the doorknob for a moment, trying to listen in, but all that met him was silence and the slight hum of the air conditioning above.Â
If Hinata were here, heâd be humming to himself or playing music, or making any sort of noise, so maybe Hinata wasnât here after all. But he still doubts there was a meeting due to the emptiness of the hallways. But then again it was awfully odd to serve experimental sweets in the private East building conference room unless-
A prank .Â
On his birthday no less!
A sudden heat of rage flared through his chest and he gripped the doorknob with a huff, swinging it open, already collecting venom on his tongue and shouting into the room.
âYou mighty scoundrel inviting me here only to mess with me on today of all days! You insignificant clown, I shall have you erased from this world! You idiot-â
The sight before him carried all the flashy colors and abrupt loudness that goes with a typical Aoi prank, but he finds his voice strangled in his throat and unable to finish his sentence when he sees who was occupying the room.
The rest of Knight's stood at the other side of the room, all looking to be in a variety of shocked states that must be evident on Tsukasa's face as well. Arashi held pompoms in both her hands, stopped midwave with a terse smile on her face. Ritsu's typical lazy expression, eyes in a constant smirk even when his lips remain flat, is taken over by the neon noisemaker in his mouth. Leoâs raised arms were frozen still, and his smile hung onto his face awkwardly like it was unsure whether to run away or not. Izumi had turned his head away, arms crossing across his chest and his loud sigh breaking the silence that had overcome the room.
âOh, Tsukasa-chan, youâre rather- I can only hope we werenât the company you were expecting..?â Arashi asked.
Tsukasa went to open his mouth to respond but a strangled honk cut him off. The offended party also looks surprised by it, grabbing it out of his mouth quickly.
âI forgot I was holding that,â Ritsu said. âAnyways, maybe we were the company he was expecting. I told Secchan this was a bad idea.â
âIt is not my fault-â
âIt is Senaâs fault! Wow, and we all tried to warn him! What an idiot~â
âOi, I am not taking being called an idiot by you.â
âWell, Ritsu-chan said so too. And Iâll agree with him and Leo-kun fufufu~â
âNow, what the hell is with this-â
These people were going to give Tsukasa a headache, but at least in the time they spent arguing, he was able to digest the scene before him a bit better. They fell short of writing letters on the wall, but the party favors theyâre holding and the small stack of presents on the table are something of a tell about their intentions.
His brain congratulated himself on its quick deductive reasoning, that this was a surprise party. Heâs never had one before, and he was pretty sure surprise parties were a trope for movies and not an event to take place in the real world. But here it was right in front of him, his precious Knights having lulled him into a dark world where they werenât here to celebrate his birthday only to surprise him like this.
The feeling squeezed itself around Tsukasaâs heart in an instant, and while his skin heats up at the sudden emotion, his lip began to wobble.
âIf you all thought this was such a bad idea then why the hell didnât you say anything, huh? Itâs because youâre all a bunch of bums.âÂ
âHey, Nacchan is not a bum.â
âWhat about me Rittsu~?â
âLetâs face it, weâre both bums, Tsukipi.âÂ
Tsukasa sniffled, trying his hardest to keep his increasingly wet eyes from spilling, but as soon as he made a noise all four pairs of eyes snapped back to him. Being observed with wet eyes was one of the fastest ways for the tears to really start, and in an instant a thick drop rolled down his cheek.
He swallowed around the raw emotion in his throat. âYou guys- you- you did this? You threw me aâŚâ And he canât finish the sentence, his shaky breaths not cooperating, but itâs hard to care much with how happy he feels.
Arashiâs already come across the room, opening her arms wide and pulling Tsukasa into a tight hug. He feels her nimble fingers comb through the top of his hair, and he thinks about how Family Tsukasa would shy away from this to whine about his reputation, wanting nothing more than to be an independent young man that doesnât ever cry. But Idol Tsukasa sniffled against the touch, appreciating her kindness.
âTsukasa-chan~â She sing-songed. âThank you for the cash prize~â
He blinked. âWh-whatâŚ?â
âUgh Nacchan, I really wanted that money. That was supposed to go towards my exotic tea fund. Secchan, you owe me.â Ritsu groaned.
Even though Tsukasa wasnât following along at all with what his senpaiâs were talking about (which happens more often than he cared to admit) he at least knew the pattern of their conversations. Ritsu just moved pawn to E-âInsult Secchanâ, so Izumi would be moving his to F-âFuck youâ. He waits for it, and when a moment of silence passes by, he waits for another member to interject and jump on the insult Izumi train.
And then there was a sniffle, followed by a curse, followed by Leo yelping.
âHey! Why me?! I didnât even say anything!â Leo shouted at the same time as Tsukasa brought his head out of Arashiâs chest, seeing Izumi covering his eyes with his hand. Confusion lasted only a moment, Tsukasa just barely being able to spot a tear on Izumiâs reddening cheeks.
âSena-senpai is crying..? Why is he- no, I donât really care. What were you all talking about money for?â Tsukasa frowned, his tears on pause so he could get a better handle on the situation. There was nothing that irked him more than being left in the dark.
Ritsu scratched the back of his head. âMmm. A bet.â
âA bet you helped me win, Tsukasa-chan~ Thank you~â
âOkay, but what was the bet?â Tsukasa questioned. âWhat could have possibly been something to bet on in this situation?â
âAbout Secchan. And you. Let me stand over here with you guys so Secchan doesnât hit me like he does Leo.â Ritsu walked over, sighing along the way. âSee, Secchan let me down. Heâs a really emotional guy, so he was supposed to start crying before you did.â
âKuma-kun, you-â Izumiâs outburst was cut off by his own voice cracking. âFuck you.âÂ
âMhm~ See, Suu-chan? Heâs emotional.â
The remaining wells in Tsukasaâs eyes dried up pretty quickly at that, and he stepped out of Arashiâs arms and leveled both her and Ritsu with a blank stare. âThatâs idiotic.â
The two of them are both too good at being evil, some Knights they are, for they give Tsukasa only the nicest smiles and faux innocent acts.
âNo, no, Tsukasa-chan~ Letâs just open your presents now and forget all about this~â
âA great idea, Nacchan~ Câmon, Suu-chan, letâs go, letâs go~â
Tsukasa ignored them, turning his eyes to Leo. âAnd did you bet too?â
âWhat? Of course not! Betting is so crude! Undignified! I would never ever do that!â
Ritsu pat Tsukasaâs shoulder, smugness lilting through his voice. âHe bet too, against Secchan. We have too much faith in him it seems.â
âRittsu!â
âI see,â Tsukasa said. Really, what was he going to do with these idiots? âAlright, we may resume festivities. But none of you are getting a slice of my cake, except Sena-senpai but I am assuming he will have only a small slice. And no , none of you can have what he doesnât eat. And if there isnât cake I am leaving.â
Blank stares come back at him.
â....There is cake, right?â
â...â
âRight?!â
#tsukasa suou#ritsu sakuma#izumi sena#leo tsukinaga#arashi narukami#knights#enstars#enstars knights#enstars fic#my writing
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my 39th birthday
Well, next week will be my 39th birthday on November 27th 2023. The last three and a half years have been really rough, hard, emotionally, challenging, and heart arching in my entire life. I lost friends, family, people who I once called homies to sisters. And now I am looking into the mirror of a man who is still standing but humble of the last three years and I mean three long years that change my view of life.Â
Since March of 2020 when the world shut down, I was very worried about what would happen or will happen. I was scared and very depressed when I was at home alone. Few of my so-called friends have taken their mask off to show who they really are then what I thought of them. I view the world in two views, one was the hateful and greedy side that was destroying the hope we had left and two was the people who were peaceful and giving that was trying to hold on to hope we had left over.Â
2022, was a crazy and rough year for me, I got hurt to the point I lost my front teeth and had to get emergency oral surgery. My job was overworking me and paying me less while the higher up was taking our hard work money away. And at the end of the year I got hurt again at work which led to more pain and archâs while my job was trying to find ways to screw me over and get me fired. I was stressed out that I wanna quit but could since the medical bills were building up.Â
And then the beginning of 2023 was not a good start. My job screwed me over and was trying to put me in a position I wasn't comfortable with and I called their bull shit. So I made a decision to go to a different department for my job. After that i couldnât see myself doing that job for so long, i mean there wasnât any advancement to move up. So in March of this year I decided to look for another job which was challenging. Until late April I got a call from a company that wanted to hire me, which was my break. I put in my two week notice and left that job, and ended with a horrible position. This company told me lies and I knew this job wasnât for me. I had a plan to stick it out until something good came along but I quit that night because the team leader was trying to kill me on a line that I didn't feel safe in. So after being without a job for almost a month I got hired on as a housekeeper which i didnât want but needed a paycheck. Luckily I still had time to do interviews for the jobs I was applying for which led me to get hired on to reynolds. I started in September of this year and currently I am still working here.Â
As of now, I am in a comfortable place and feel safe from being jobless. I donât know what I am going to do but my plan was to go to school but, school isnât looking good and I don't know if my trade degree i am going after would benefit me in a good work life. I wanna make this work without failing but I gotta face it because it is a part of life and I gotta learn from it. I just hope something good comes out of this when 2024 comes. I just hope I get a sign from god or anything telling me what I need to do and change about my life. I wanna have a good job and pay so i can own a home out in the country where there is quietness and being safe. That is one of my goals i wanna do, just own a home but these days it is impossible. But then again something will change next year hopefully.Â
So as I celebrate my 39th birthday, I wish for change and have a good life. And completing my goals I have set for myself. I know some of the things I will have to give up which some of my friends might not like but have to understand from my view. So, I hope I have a good day on my birthday and wish for change in 2024.Â
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TEARS IN MY EYES
In March 2022, Cameroon had to play Algeria home and away for the final of the 5 allotted spots for African teams at the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar. The first game was on March 25 at the Japoma Stadium in Douala, Cameroon. The match ended 0-1 in favor of Algeria. The return leg was 4 days later in Algeria and Cameroon needed a victory and score at least 2 goals. 22 minutes in, Eric Choupo-Moting put Cameroon in the lead. That was the only goal score in the 90 minutes of regular play. Extra time was needed to decide whoâd be going to Qatar. Extra time is 30 minutes split in half. Algeria scored in the 118th minute and before the fans in the stadium and across the country could finish celebrating that goal, Karl Toko-Ekambi scored for Cameroon with only seconds left in the game. The final score was 2-2, but Cameroon qualified because they scored 1 more goal in Algeria than Algeria did in Cameroon. This is known as the âAway Goalsâ rule which is used to settle ties. Cameroon had done it; theyâd qualified for the World Cup.
The draw for the World Cup happened on April 1st at the Doha Exhibition and Convention Center in Doha. Cameroon was placed in Group G with Serbia, Switzerland, and Brazil. Now any football fan will tell you that Brazil is one of the best football countries in the world and they always come with the best stars. Also, there is some sweet history between Brazil and Cameroon.
The World Cup is the biggest competition in the world for countries. Itâs so big, it only happens every four years. The first world cup I watched was the 1998 edition held in France. I was 5 years old. I always wondered how it was like to watch the games live, be among the fans, and cheer on your country. Iâve attended many games as Iâve gotten older but never that magnitude. When I saw that Brazil would be playing Cameroon December 2nd 2022, I knew I had to be there. Some of the heroes from when Cameroon won the 2017 African Nations Cup where on the team, (Benjiâs Men) so this was another opportunity to see them.
The World Cup usually takes place in the summer but due to the scorching weather in Qatar during the summer months, it was moved to November and December when the temperatures would be more suitable for the games. My friend, Priscilla did most of the planning and research. Sheâs good at this kind of things. I just told her to let me know what weâre doing, when itâs happening, and how much I had to wire to her bank account. The travel party was priscilla, her dad, and me. Since we planned to only attend 1 game, we decided to stop in Dubai for a few days and then head over to Doha on December 1st, the day before the match. Unfortunately, Priscilla and her dad could not make the trip. This was because she got a new job and had to move. I was sad, but extremely happy for her.
Now I had to travel alone because I didnât see myself not going on the trip. Luckily, my dad had finally rearranged his schedule to also attend the match. My sister too, who was in Cameroon at the time also wanted to attend the match. We quickly sorted out arrangements and got an Airbnb in Dubai.
I flew out of New York on November 27. It was a 12-and-a-half-hour flight which would arrive the next morning around 8 am local time. Shout out to Emirates Airlines for broadcasting the World Cup games on the flight. It was a very smooth flight aboard the Airbus A380. The food was good too.
I was in Dubai for 3 days and on December 1st, I left for Doha. It was a one-hour flight. The plane was filled with fans from Costa Rica. They had a game that night and they were in high spirits the entire plane ride, singing and chanting.
After getting through security at the airport, I made my way to the train station. All the stadiums were connected by the rail. Lusail Stadium was where Cameroon would be facing Brazil and it was the last stop on the train. The hostel was advertised to be a 5 minutesâ walk from the stadium. I got off the stadium and as I made my outside, there it was, the incredible Lusail Iconic Stadium. It was magical. Bigger than what I saw on tv. After taking a few shots, I started the âfiveâ minute walk. Not going to lie, it took me almost an hour because all I had was a picture of the place. My phone map was only so useful. I walked to two wrong buildings. I was exhausted by the time I arrived. Funny enough, the stadium was indeed in sight and walking distance.
My old man arrived a few hours later and we went out to the town center. Thatâs where all the fans were. It was beautiful. The patriotism on display was incredible. The city was very colorful.
The flags of all the participating nations were displayed on the streets and fans stopped to take pictures. After walking around, we grabbed some food and sat to watch the 10 pm game. By halftime I was tired, and I left and went to bed.
The next morning, the exploring continued. We wanted to see Doha by day, eat, and get souvenirs because that was the only opportunity. By the time we got back to the hostel, my sister had arrived. We all got ready and made our way to the stadium. I had on a white Cameroon jersey and a white Keffiyeh with flags of Cameroon which I bought earlier in the market wrapped around my neck.
It was about thirty minutes to kick off when I got in. The players from both teams where on the pitch going through their warmup routines. I spotted some of my favorite players on the team; the captain Vincent Aboubakar, Collins Fai, and Andre Onana. The players cleared the field to go change and thatâs when the ambiance started. Music and lightshows kept us entertained.
The referees led the players back out on to the field. The national anthems of both nations were played. I only know a few lines of the Cameroon national anthem. I hummed the rest of it. The game kicked off and there was a roar in the stadium. The game was very tight, but Brazil had most of the clearer cut opportunities to score.
It was still goalless at halftime. I remember a fan, late in the second half say, âI flew all the way from London, and I wonât even see a goal?â I wanted to turn to the fan and say cry more, but I opted to mind my business. As the game marched towards full time and with some fans already making their way out, twenty-four-year-old Jerome Ngom Mbekeli, whoâd only been on the field for five minutes having entered as a substitute, crossed the ball from the right-hand side of the field into the penalty area and the beautiful head of captain Vincent Aboubakar was there to meet it. The ball hit the back of the net. GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!
I couldnât believe my eyes, I stood up, yelled, screamed, danced, and celebrated. I was very emotional. I was waving my flag very high and might. In that moment, that very small moment, I was happy. Nothing else mattered. I used the Keffiyeh to wipe the tears in the eyes. The match ended 1-0. Cameroon had beaten Brazil. One of the Brazilians fans came to me and ask if we could swap jerseys. I agreed and we took a picture together.
I returned to the hostel, grabbed my things and got an Uber to the airport.
Dreaming of something and actually making it happen are two very different things. Iâve always dreamt of attending a world cup match, but never thought itâd happen to me. On the 12-hour flight back, I reflected on the whole experience. It was memorable. The people of Qatar were very friendly, the food was fantastic, and the vibe in the country was top notch. I am glad I made the trek to Qatar, and I am happy I was at a game that my country won. Even though we did not qualify for the knockout stage, it made the six thousand miles journey bearable. Like my little brother always says, âwork hard, but enjoy harder.â
Nothingâs in Vain.
Happy New Year,
Via Boy Dâjine
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01.04.2023 - Sleep Deprived Thoughts
Today is Wednesday.
I am currently sleep deprived because I have this cough that wonât allow me to sleep, and I havenât had a good night of sleep in like 5 days. I canât believe I made my first post in 2020 when I was struggling mentally and trying to figure out my life. I am still struggling to figure out my life right now, but I think itâs easier because I am in a better place mentally. I understand that I am trying to pick a career path that wonât make me hate my life and be extremely depressed for the rest of it. I have also gotten over the thought of not being good enough for things. I should really be nicer to myself and stop judging myself so harshly.Â
This year is going to be very busy. Some things coming up:
1. (Jan) My little sister is moving to Iowa for work so I need to drive her there, help her move, and then fly back.Â
2. (Jan) I will be playing in a beach league in the competitive division, and this will be my first time. I am very lacking as a beach player so I am worried.Â
3. (Jan) My second quarter of grad school starts tomorrow. Good luck, you got this!Â
4. (Jan) I will need to be doing a lot of volleyball training because there will be a big tournament in February.Â
5. (Jan) I have a job interview tomorrow at USF in the College of Nursing. This is for a research assistant position studying sleep.
6. Lunar New Year will be on Jan 22nd. It will be the year of the rabbit!Â
7. (Feb) I believe the only thing I have in Feb is going to be the volleyball tournament.Â
8. (Mar) I will be going to see Sik-k with Bethany in Orlando.Â
9. (Mar) I will be going on my very first cruise with some close volleyball friends that I consider my family. It will be a week long, and I really hope I donât get seasick.Â
10. Nothing big planned for April and May except for some HS graduations in May.
11. (June) I believe that my sister and I will be going to Cancun with Grace sometime in June to celebrate our birthdays.Â
11.5. (July) It will be my 27th birthday! Itâs crazy to think that I will be 27. It will also be Taylorâs birthday, and I wonder if we will spend it together this year. I had a lot of fun hanging out last year.Â
12. (Oct) This is probably going to be the biggest thing because I am planning to go to Japan with Victoria, Bethany, and Taylor. Â
I am really looking forward to what is to come in 2023. Looking back at all my posts are always fun because I like to see what I was worried about and how it turned out. I am still waiting to see what happens when I meet Taylor in person though. My opinions on Taylor change all the time based on his action, and itâs really annoying sometimes. I am just so wishy-washy when it comes to him. Part of me is like, fuck it, just sleep with the dude, and the other part of me is like, why tf would you just wanna be another girl that he as slept with. I am really interested to see what will happen with our âfriendshipâ. That reminds me, this bitch was talking to me the other day, and was said, we might need to sneak off just the 2 of us and go to a hotel. I was a little shocked because we hadnât talked about sleep together for awhile, but it was brought up again and I agreed. He also said my friendship with Bethany was weird because we lay in the same room, but we donât really talk to each other. IS YOU THINK THAT IS A WEIRD FRIENDSHIP THEN PLEASE EXPLAIN OUR FRIENDSHIP, SIR. WHAT BEST FRIENDS WHAT TO SLEEP TOGETHER WITHOUT HAVING FEELINGS? Maybe all of this is hard for me to process because I have never been interested in sleeping with any of my friends let alone my BEST friend, AND I am not someone who just sleeps with anyone they fine attractive. I really need to get over whatever tf it is that we have because I miss that time before August where we started talking more intimately. There is also a part of me that wished I had never said anything because I feel like that changed us too. I knew he didnât like, but I needed to get over it so confessing was the easiest option LOL.Â
Diet goals: Be 180 by June and 175 by Dev 2023.Â
Well, hereâs to 2023. I hope that is goes well, and I can meet my goals. I also hope I will figure out the Taylor thing so I can move on and stop thinking about it LOL.Â
-P
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2021 creatorâs wrap!
rules: itâs time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2021. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
Tagging anyone who hasnât done it yet. I love reading these!
I was tagged by the lovely @lambourngb. This was really hard for me because I made the mistake of looking at my stats page the other day (and I never do that) and realized everything was down from 2020 even though I didnât start writing until April 2020. In 2021, my word count was down and hits, kudos and comments were a lot lower. I did meet my goal of posting at least once a month so I am clinging to that. Anyway, enough whining, here are 5 fics I am relatively happy with.
What Theyâll Say About Us (1921 words): This was the 2nd fic I posted in 2021 and it really set the tone for my writing for the year. An intimate moment between Alex and Michael where Alex opens up about some of his vulnerabilities and Michael finds a way to reassure him. Itâs quiet and loving and features a surprise handprint.
Fall back into place (5755 words): My Valentineâs Day fic (a month late) that looked a few Valentineâs Days in Alex and Michaelâs life from getting back together to marriage. I like the theme of sunflowers I didnât plan and the edible tattoo kink I gave Michael.
Iâll meet you at the divide (4339 words): I debated included this one because the fic in my head is so much better than what I wrote. I really wanted to show Alex as a caretaker and the different ways he relates to his friends. I donât think I did him justice, but I tried. It was also a love confession prompt fic, and I do like Michaelâs (repeated) love confession. I think Iâll always be sad about what it could have been, but it has some nice moments.
In my mind, you are the road I choose to travel (1000 words): Did this make the list because singing the title makes happy? Maybe. Just 1000 words of Michael loving Alex and Alex loving him back. Nothing much to see here.
You donât have to go it alone (4179 words): Written for Alex Manes Week. My beautiful Alex who needs so much love. This is a look at the people who have loved him throughout the years, ending with Michael of course.Â
Bonus fic! One of the things I wanted to do last year was write some non Malex fic. And I did. I wrote friendship fic, Death, Kaliz, and character centric fics. And with all my insecurities and desire for validation, I had to accept that there would be little to no audience for this fics. I really had to write them because I wanted to and just be happy with my own enjoyment of them. So I wrote of one of the craziest ideas Iâve ever had, one I knew literally no one wanted to read. I wrote a fic about with Jesse and Mimi as a couple in some mythical time after Mindy left but before Jesse became a believer in Project Shepherd. A few people read it, but honestly, it is one of my favorite fics. One I think about at night and come up with more ways it could work, worlds were Mimi and Jesse work together to take down Project Shepherd, where Alex grows up loved and all the ripples it creates. Iâll probably never write that world because itâs way beyond my skill level, but I have a little piece of what could have been.
This one goes out to the one I love (1254 words): Maria has a vision that shows her Jesse wasnât always a monster. He was capable of love once.
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What the 2021 Grammy Awards Will Look Like
Artists including Billie Eilish, BTS, and Taylor Swift will perform in a circle of five stages with masked crew at the center â in a ceremony that first-time showrunner Ben Winston calls âpart Grammys, part Abbey Road studio sessionâ
Ben Winston is exhausted. The television producer, who moved from the U.K. to Los Angeles six years ago to start The Late Late Show With James Corden, is a week away from executive-producing his first Grammys telecast. âI literally had two hours of sleep last night,â he tells Rolling Stone via Zoom.
On Sunday, March 7th, the Recording Academy revealed a slate of performing artists for March 14thâs 63rd Annual Grammy Awards that includes Billie Eilish, BTS, Taylor Swift, Cardi B, and Harry Styles. But while those names are on the lineup, Winston knows nothing about live TV is ever set in stone â especially in the time of a pandemic âso heâs been spending his days double- and triple-checking plans, waking up at 4:30 a.m. dry-eyed and restless. Heâs worked to make a show âwith heart,â he says â one that âdoesnât feel isolated, quiet, or alone.â He also had to take extra steps to ensure the three-and-a-half hour show, which will not take place at the Grammysâ usual home of the Staples Center, is Covid-safe for performers and attendees. Despite all that, he appears remarkably enthusiastic and alert.
Hereâs what viewers next Sunday can expect from musicâs biggest night, according to Winston: a multi-stage, audience-free show that highlights the yearâs creative triumphs, social justice movements, as well as Covid-19âs impact on the arts. Winston hints at several âunbelievably powerfulâ performances on the slate, adding that the Grammys âabsolutely are acknowledging whatâs happenedâ in the country in the last year.
Winston, who in 2018 co-produced Bruno Marsâ well-received live show at the Apollo for CBS, also wanted to highlight independent venues, which are the âlifeblood of this industryâ and a launchpad for emerging musicians â so the Grammys will feature guest spots from owners and workers of iconic American venues, including L.A.âs Troubadour and Hotel CafĂŠ, N.Y.âs Apollo, and Nashvilleâs Station Inn. âI drive past the Troubadour on my way home from work every night,â Winston says. âItâs a significant thing for me when I look at it all boarded up. I always think, âWhen those boards come down, this will be over.â That will be the sign. That will be the day where itâs like, âWe got through this.'â Winston realized from his conversations with venues that many of them put on their last shows on March 14th, 2020, meaning the Grammys will mark the one-year anniversary of the shutdown.
Employees will come on camera to âtell us a little bit about their venueâ and present some of the awards. âSo, youâve got, like, a bartender at a beautiful, independent venue â and sheâs giving out Album of the Year to these megastars,â he explains. His goal is to acknowledge the people who work tirelessly to keep these stomping grounds afloat and have recently lost their jobs. âThose venues are made up by the bartender and the security guard, the manager, the box office person, and the cleaner at the end of the night.â He hopes to remind people of the importance of supporting local venues again when itâs safe to do so.
Originally, the Grammys were scheduled for January 31st, but organizers announced a move to March right after the new year. Winston says he felt American morale was at a low point in January â between political insurrection, an impeachment trial, and Covid-19 running rampant in Los Angeles â and it âdidnât feel rightâ to put the show on in the middle of that. The Recording Academy and CBS, which exclusively airs the annual show, both supported his decision to postpone. âI can now do everything that I wanted to do in my best-case scenario for this year,â he says of Sundayâs show.
Sundayâs location is an undisclosed building in Los Angeles, but Winston teases that the new venue is âmassive,â âmagical,â and âthe biggest building Iâve ever been in indoors.â âI donât want it to look like Iâm criticizing Staples, because itâs the most amazing venue,â he emphasizes, sharing that heâs open to bringing the Grammys back to the arena in the future if they ask him to. While he does believe that Staples is a safe place, he says he wanted to go above and beyond to make even the most-skeptical participants feel undoubtedly safe.
A team of Covid safety officers oversaw the production set-up, and artists will enter the stage from different directions to minimize contact. Each artist also has their own backstage area. The space âallowed us to build an entire world,â he says.
The show will involve five stages of the same size and shape, four of which are for performances and one of which is for presenters. Stages are organized in a circle, facing one another, and crew members will work from the middle of the set. âPeople will perform while the other three or four artists on their stages watch, applaud, and enjoy. As soon as that one finishes, the next one goes, the next one goes, and the next one goes. Every 45 minutes, you change out those stages, and you bring another four megastars into the room,â says Winston, who was partly inspired for the âpart-Grammys, part-Abbey Road studio sessionâ setup by British shows he watched as a child, including Jools Holland and TFI Friday.
Itâs going to be a âbespoke night of music that I donât know if weâll ever be able to repeat,â Winston says. âItâs about taking a camera into a room, and making an amazing musical moment by filming it quite simply and elegantly.â Performances, which started being planned in April 2020, will be a mix of live and pre-recorded â a fully live show would involve too many crew members moving sets and risking close contact â but the whole thing is intended to feel completely live. (Winston challenges viewers to try and guess which sets are pre-recorded; he designed them to be difficult to tell.)
To help plan the sprawling, immersive show, Winston brought in a suite of collaborators including co-executive producer Jesse Collins, who produced The Weekndâs Super Bowl halftime show; co-executive producer Raj Kapoor, who handled creative direction for various artists on the last seven Grammys and produced Vegas residencies for the likes of the Backstreet Boys and Mariah Carey; producer Fatima Robinson, whose expansive background in creative direction and choreography landed her the Black Eyed Peasâ 2011 halftime show and Kendrick Lamarâs 2016 Grammy performance; producer Misty Buckley, who handled production design for Kacey Musgravesâ 2020 Christmas show; talent executive Patrick Menton from Dick Clark Productions; Corden collaborator Josie Cliff; and Super Bowl halftime, Olympic ceremony, Oscars, and Emmys director Hamish Hamilton, who Winston describes as a âlegendâ heâs admired since he was 14 years old. (David Wild, who has written for the Grammys since 2001 and became a producer in 2016, is the only person returning to his role.) Winston also points out that artists were heavily involved in designing their own performances.
Rather than have cameras pan over empty seats and an awkwardly small stage, the production team decided to reinvent the visual format with the five-stage setup. The pandemicâs limitations, coupled with the advantages of new faces coming in with fresh perspectives, helped them refrain from thinking in terms of what the Grammys had done before, he said.
For the most part, Covid-19 didnât force too many changes. It did give Winston a lot of anxiety.
âThereâs been so much uncertainty with what youâre allowed to do,â he says. Changing international quarantine rules made him question whether certain performers could fly in, while health guidance keeps fluctuating: âEvery time my computer or phone dings, my first instinct is, âOh, God, whatâs gone wrong?â I donât know if thatâs ever been my mentality before.â
While all the performers are confirmed and currently Covid-free, âyou never know, one of their girlfriends could have Covid and have to quarantine, itâs all just bonkers,â Winston says. âThereâs one artist that may, in the end, not be able to make it here due to rules of the country theyâre currently in. Thereâs one immigration issue that weâve got left.â
The show does not have replacements on hand if anyone pulls out â itâll just cut that performance out.
Above all, Winston wants the 2021 Grammys to focus attention off of dire times. âI want people to be able to watch the 2021 Grammys in 2040 and go, âWow, what an amazing show that was,â and not go, âOh, that was the Covid year, thatâs why they had to do that,'â he says. âI think thatâs what we could achieve if we get it right on Sunday.â
via RollingStone.com
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Birthdays
đ six
She remembers that one, clearly, even now. The last one her father was there for.
At six Sarah is considerably a lot more perceptive than other children her age. She notices her motherâs pinched expression, the fraught looks that pass between her parents. The way her father walks about in a silent rage and her mother purses her lips, as though trying to stop herself from saying something.
Thatâs how she ends up sitting quietly, trying her best to pretend she isnât there, a new copy of The Secret Garden open in her lap, legs carefully crossed at the ankles. Sheâs trying to lose herself in the words. She imagines herself taken away to somewhere strange, somewhere new, just like Mary was.
It seems to be working for her, that is, until she hears Aunt Louise from across the room.
âPoor soul,â she remarks lowly, but loud enough that Sarah hears, and knows she means her. Looking up, curls half obscuring her face, Sarah is just in time to see Aunt Louise lean across and whisper something to Uncle Henry. Something that she knows is about her parents, who, she is sure are both somewhere at opposite ends of the house being mad at each other. That was always the way now.
And then Itâs a few weeks later and suddenly, well, not so, if you thought about it like Sarah did, her father is gone. Not coming back, according to her mother. And maybe, Sarah thinks, maybe if she had been better, he would have stayed and things could have changed.Â
đ thirteen
A birthdayâs not about things. Itâs not about presents or decorations or balloons. At least, thatâs supposed to be the sentiment. But for Sarahâs mother, itâs a different story.Â
Sarah comes home to banners and giant helium balloons, a huge expense, but empty. She knows her mother had no personal hand in the matter. It had just been a call to her assistant and an exchange of money. Empty Gestures, like it always was with her mother.Â
A store bought cake, perfectly piped with lettering âhappy thirteenth Sarahâ. It is anything but. Maybe itâs selfish but she wishes for a homemade cake, one like sheâd heard her classmates talk about. Complain about, even. What she would give for something like that, something thatâs not just empty. That would take time and effort and care. Not just a phone call. Because these are all just things. Not the stuff that makes treasured memories.Â
There arenât even people to share it all with. That would require friends. And middle school was lonely.Â
So itâs just Sarah, alone at home, her mother didnât even have it in her to take the time off work for her only daughter. Instead she sits there, at the table in the spotless kitchen, reading and rereading the typed card left for her, hoping somewhere to discern something more from it. Some hidden feelings in the black and white. But there arenât.Â
Maybe one day, she thinks, though itâs probably wishful thinking. Sheâs not six anymore, holding onto hope for change.
đ fifteen
High school is a little different, a little brighter. Sheâs changed schools, there are girls who it seems actually like her. Ones she can count as friends. And thatâs how she finds herself in the cinema with Harriett and Grace and Marya the evening of her fifteenth birthday.Â
Sheâs sat on the end of the row, beside Grace, sharing her popcorn with her and a fizzy drink thatâs just a little too sweet for her liking. But Sarah doesnât care because Grace holds her hand practically throughout the whole of the film. Sarah doesnât really think the film is that scary but sheâs willing to pretend as Grace holds her hand tightly, leaning close to her in her seat so that Sarah can smell the floral scent of the perfume sheâs started wearing, the one that smells of jasmine and bergamot, coincidently two of Sarahâs favourite scents, though she canât quite remember if she ever told Grace that.Â
Grace laughs quietly at something on screen beside her, and Sarah thinks itâs a wonderful sound, like music. She loves knowing when she makes her laugh like that. Wouldnât mind being able to do that more often.Â
But itâs all a little bittersweet, because Grace will be gone by September, by the time the new school term starts. Sheâs moving with her family to Seattle, so if something ever could have come of them, neither will ever know.Â
đ nineteen
Sarah feels freer now. Sheâs in college, out in the world, never mind that her world mainly consists of campus, her dorm, the little cafe down on Elm and the library.Â
People are still hard, and her circle of people is ridiculously small, but not for lack of trying. There isnât much time for friends, anyhow she tells herself. Her goal here is to do well. She has to do well. She is, and thatâs her consolation.Â
But itâs her birthday and sheâs tired and her heart is heavy and she just wants to not feel so alone. So itâs probably a poor decision but itâs summer and sheâs alone in her dorm, most other people having left for the holidays; she just canât stomach going back, and in any case doesnât think her mum would even miss her presence. There are no calls or messages from the few friends sheâd had in high school. Nothing. Which hurts, because she always remembers their birthdays. But maybe they didnât feel the same way. Theyâd moved on, probably; she should too.Â
Itâs just her in her dorm, alone that Monday night.
Itâs impulsive, and sheâll regret it later, she knows, but the bottle is right there in her cupboard and even if itâs for a little bit, she just wants to forget, to not think, to lose focus. Even if itâs only temporary.Â
The one and only time she allows herself to do this, truly let go of herself like this. And itâs not one of those wild stories to be told later and made light of, itâs not a party or surrounded by friends. Itâs just her, alone with the bottle, trying to rid herself of her thoughts.Â
đ twenty-sixÂ
Sarah is exhausted. Her rotation in the ED is taking its toll on her. The shifts, the long days and nights. But this is everything she had been working towards. What practically everything she had done since she was sixteen had been for.Â
So that evening, all she wants to do is to go home, order some takeout from the ramen place she likes and maybe watch a movie. Just something quiet with herself.Â
Sheâs just home and showered, hair still damp and hanging loose when her phone rings. Unusual. Hardly anyone ever called her. Whatâs even more unusual is that itâs Natalie from Med calling her, and Sarah wonders what on earth she could want at this time of the evening, especially when neither of them have a night shift that day.Â
She picks up, to hear Natalie asking if she could come round and watch Owen because she needed to run out to the grocery store and there was no one else to.Â
Sarah sighs inwardly. So much for her quiet night. But she goes. Itâs not like she had any real plans tonight. If anything, watching Owen might be a help. She knows sitting in front of the TV, especially tonight, would lead her mind to wander. To places and thoughts she didnât want it to go. It was probably for the best. So she pulls on jeans and a sweater and goes.Â
Natalie answers the door, pulling Sarah inside. âThank you so much for coming, honestly I donât know what else I would have done,â she gushes.
âDonât mention itââ Sarah begins, but the words die on her lips as Natalie leads her into the kitchen.Â
April is there, holding Owen, and Maggie is beside her with Noah and Ethan and Connor and Will and a few of the others.Â
âHappy Birthday!â They all call out in unison, smiles on their faces and Owen waving his small fists, not quite understanding, but knowing something good is happening. Â
Sarah is completely taken aback. She hadnât been expecting anything, let alone this. She didnât even think they all knew when her birthday was.Â
âYou didnât think we were gonna leave you all on your one, did you?â Maggie asks, pulling her into a tight embrace.Â
This, Sarah thinks, is what a family must feel like.Â
đ twenty-seven
So much has changed. For one thing, Sarahâs a psych resident now. Something she never thought she would be, but sheâs enjoying it. For another, and this is the biggest one, thereâs Ava. And that is amazing and terrifying in equal parts all at the same time.Â
Ava wouldnât tell her where they were going. Only that it required Sarah to dress up. It turned out to be a fancy Italian restaurant, one that apparently Ava had had her eyes on for months for this very occasion. Sarah had never really been one for grand gestures, considering her motherâs track record with them; theyâd always felt empty. But with Ava, it is completely, entirely different. The way Ava is excited about it probably more than Sarah, because she loves surprising her, seeing her happy. And that, for Sarah, makes the day. Because it is so genuine and heartfelt.Â
Sarah canât think of a time where sheâs felt lighter than she does now.Â
But thatâs not even everything. They get home, and Ava leads Sarah to the couch, telling her to sit, and disappears off into the kitchen. Sheâs only gone for a short time, and when she returns, sheâs bearing a decadent chocolate cake on a platter, iced with âhappy birthday Sarah,â in Avaâs familiar, looping script, candles flickering in the dim light. Ava made this. For her.Â
Itâs perfect, and she tells her so as Ava sets the platter down on the coffee table in front of her.Â
âBlow out the candles,â Ava says softly, and Sarah does, as her girlfriend snaps a photo of her, smiles etched on both their faces.Â
âThank you,â Sarah tells her quietly as Ava comes to sit beside her, placing a kiss to her lips. Â
âHappy birthday, my love,â whispers Ava when they break apart. And it is. Completely.Â
#sarah reese#my writing#reesker#chicago med#the title is really not creative i know#i wrote this at like 11 last night because i was being sad and its completely unedited but posting it anyway
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That Donât Sound Like You | Brock Boeser
title and inspiration come from the Lee Brice song of the same name. I like country music, okay? takes place roughly September 2015-August 2019. all games and other teammates are accurate.
because @captainkreiderâ said âwhat if you write this for Brockâ and I immediately had to rethink my priorities on who I will and will not write for. and then this happened.Â
length: 4.7 wordsÂ
Girl, Iâm glad you called
You met Brock early in your freshman year at University of North Dakota. He was always surrounded by people, popular and charismatic, even as a slightly awkward 18-year-old, but it seemed like he could, and would, talk to anyone who would listen.
You found that out for yourself when he plopped down a couple seats from you in some 100 level English lecture before leaning across the empty desk between you to introduce himself.
âIâm Brock,â he said with a grin.
You took a moment to assess him. His blond hair was tucked beneath a backwards snapback, looking every bit like a douche college athlete, but his blue eyes were kind, and his smile seemed genuine. You shot him a quick smile of your own before turning back to your notes.
âIâm Y/N,â you offered. Brock was still watching you closely; you flipped the page of your notebook.
Any further conversation was cut short by your professor coming in, his typical five minutes late. It was already the third week of class, and Brock had never sat near you before, usually choosing to sit more near the back, but you buried your confusion in favor of focusing on the lecture.Â
Brock kept sitting next to you, though, would start a conversation with you most days. It was a week and a half before he asked for your phone number, another week before he actually texted you to complain about how he didnât understand an assigned reading. In the meantime, youâd learned that you hadnât grown up far from each other in Minnesotaâ just a couple towns away from each other outside Minneapolis, his favorite colorâ blue, but only one highly specific shade, and how heâd been drafted by the Canucks but was still trying out the whole college thing.
âSo,â Brock started one day in October. You hummed in response, not looking up from your notesâ you were trying to review for the test you had after this lecture was over. Brock nudged your elbow, but you still didnât look up at him. âHey. Y/N.â Brock was starting to whine now, so you glanced up at him. âSo, uh, we have our first home game this Saturday.â
You raised an eyebrow at Brock. He looked nervous, fidgeting with a hoodie string and chewing on his bottom lip. You poked him in the arm with your pen.Â
âGot something you wanna say, Boes?â
âWould you, yâknow?â
You rolled your eyes. âNo, Brock, I donât know. Spit it out.â
âDo you wanna come to the game?â he finally managed.
Now, UND took hockey as seriously as some colleges took football, and youâd spent more than one conversation with Brock discussing hockey, so he knew you liked it. Of course youâd be at the game on Saturday. But Brock wasnât asking if you were going as a hockey fan. He was asking if youâd come to see him play.
You grinned, and Brock ducked his head and refused to look at you. His cheeks looked a little pink. You poked him with your pen again, this time just below his ribs, and he squirmed and snatched the pen from your hand.Â
âYeah, Brock, Iâll be there,â you assured him.Â
He threw your pen at you.Â
Brock scored a hat trick in front of the sold-out crowd and swept you up in his arms outside the arena.
That became the new normal for you two. You went to every home game to watch as Brock tore up the league as one of the best freshmen anyone had ever seen. Heâd meet you outside the arena, and youâd end up at a diner with the rest of the team with Brockâs arm draped around your shoulder. The team accepted you into their fold easily enough, teasing and chirping you just as they would any other player. There was time spent alone with Brock, too, or as alone as you could get in a dorm building. It had started under the pretense of studying together, but over time, it usually ended under a pile of blankets and Greyâs Anatomy playing on one of your laptops.
Brock kissed you for the first time in early December, after the team swept the weekend against Denver. It was cold, and his breath brushed across your face in a white cloud when he leaned in, but his lips were warm against yours.Â
Not much changed after that, not really, except for the fact that Brock got much less shy about always wanting to be near you or touching you in some way, whether it was your knees pressed against each other beneath a table on a date, or a hand on your hip or linked with yours when you were hanging out with others.
He did trip over his own feet the first time he saw you wearing one of his hoodies, though.Â
You surprised Brock in Tampa in April for the Frozen Four finals, where he had the game winning goal, and three more assists to boot. You werenât sure you had ever seen him smile as big as when you jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist after the game, Stretch and Drake and everyone else still screaming somewhere behind you.
Truck tires on a gravel road
Laughing at the world, blasting my radio
Cannonballs splashing in the water
Brock called you one afternoon in June, after life had settled down into the lazy days of summer.
âWhatâs up, babe?â you asked, absently throwing a tennis ball for your dog out in the yard.
Brock hesitated. âDo you still wanna come out to the lake with us?â
You had talked about it, a little, back when it was still ungodly cold in North Dakota, and Brock had mentioned that his family was going to try and rent a place on a lake for a week or two in July. It had seemed so far away then, as distant future as graduating or Brock heading off to Vancouver, which feels foolish now, with July creeping closer every day.
âYeah, of course,â you said.
The two of you talked about the future for the first time that week at Minnetonka, between bets of who could make the biggest splash, or turning up Brockâs playlists as loud as you could, yelling the words to country songs up to the clouds.
Brock wanted to stay at UND another year, use it to develop his game, but he whispered in the dark one night that he was scared of making it all the way to the NHL and not living up to expectations, no longer a bright star, but a supernova, left to fade into nothing.Â
You had dreams of your own, too. Graduating and getting a job in a big city, getting away from Minnesota and small towns where everyone knew everyone. California, maybe, or somewhere on the East Coast like D.C.
(Brock had made a face at you for that.)
You realized for the first time, too, that you just might be in love with Brock. You werenât sure what to do with that realization, though, just tucked your face a little tighter into Brockâs shoulder, tried not to think about what you would do if Brock ever asked you to follow him to Vancouver. You werenât sure you could give up your life plans for anyone.
July passed with days in the sun and nights near a bonfire, drowning in one of Brockâs hoodies as you sat in his lap under a blanket. You wished you could live in moments like those forever.
Sophomore year was different for both of you. You were busier with classes, and Brock was more focused on hockey than ever, determined not to let his freshman season be a fluke.Â
Not that anyone thought it would be.
Brock became an alternate captain. Continued to dominate on the ice, came back stronger after a couple of injuries. Brock Boeser was making a name for himself, and it was only a matter of time before everyone started paying attention.
The day after the team lost to Boston University in double overtime, the defending champs going out on their very first game of the tournament, Brock was home in Minnesota, signing an entry-level contract, and playing his first game as a Vancouver Canuck.
He had kissed you goodbye on Thursday before the team left for Fargo, with an âI love you,â murmured against your lips, his hands tangled in your hair, the promise of âsee you soonâ unspoken but understood between you.
But you sat on your couch and watched as Brock took to the ice for the team that believed in him against the team he grew up watching, you started to wonder just how soon that would be, and if youâd ever get your Brock back, or if youâd lost his love to the city of Vancouver.
Brock scored a goal that night. Youâd always known he would fit right in in Vancouver.Â
Brock broke up with you that summer. You had seen it coming, maybe since last July, when you realized that your lives were heading in different directions, but that didnât mean it hurt any less. You were supposed to go up to Minnetonka again, but you never made it that far before he was standing on your doorstep, hands shoved deep in your pockets.
Part of you wanted to insist that you could make the distance work, and maybe you could, maybe Brock thought it, too, but you couldnât think of the words.
âI love you,â you said instead.Â
You dropped a Target bag full of Brockâs things on his parentsâ front porch, hoodies and beanies and other things that were too hard to keep, before you headed back to UND for the fall.
You kept in touch some, congratulatory texts (you) or pictures of the weather (him). You received dozens of Snapchats during All-Star Weekend in 2018, especially of the adorable dog he ended up adoptingâ you had vetoed changing his name from Ciderâ but you were pretty sure he was sending them to everyone.
Until you got one simply captioned âwould be better with you here.â You stared at the pictureâ the view of Tampa outside his hotel room windowâ until the time ran out, and it disappeared. Then another came in, and you opened it quickly, unthinkingly. âNot quite like the last time we were in Tampa together tho.â
The only time youâd been to Tampa had been nearly two years before for the Frozen Four.
The picture disappeared again, and you didnât know how to respond. So you didnât.
You graduated a semester early and made plans to move to the East Coast and get a job, start your life for real. No one commented on how you were about as far away from Brock and Vancouver as you could get.
You were doing laundry at your parentsâ house, packing most of what you owned in your car to move, when you came across a green UND hockey T-shirt. It still smelled a little like Brock, even though it had been buried in your room for years. You spared half a thought to wonder if Brock ever even missed it before you throw it in the washing machine.Â
You were surprised, then, when you got a textâ a real one, too, not a Snapchat messageâ from Brock later that summer. You had never responded to those messages he had sent during the All-Star Game, and he had stopped sending things after a while. That had been over a year ago.Â
Brockâs message was simple, just a âhey, how have you been?â You wondered if he even knew you moved, and you were immediately suspicious of ulterior motives.Â
You left him on read for a couple of hours, before responding, and your message was short, curt. Your suspicions were proved right when he responded within half an hour.
âsoâ
âSome of the guys from UND are coming up north for a couple daysâ
âand theyâve been making some noise about seeing youâ
You sighed. You were too tired for playing games, talking coyly, pretending like you were anything more than a couple of exes, practically strangers at this point. You pressed the call button below Brockâs name, realized for the first time that youâd never removed the green heart emoji from his contact.Â
âY/N?â Brock sounded surprised, as if he hadnât been the one to text you first.
âWhy now, Brock?â you asked. Why do you still care, is what you didnât.
âStetch wonât shut up about wanting to see you, and some of the other guys picked up the chorus,â Brock said. He sounded as tired as you felt. It may have been years since you had last seen some of his teammates from UND, it certainly sounded like they havenât changed much.Â
You went quiet, chewing on your bottom lip. Brock rushed to fill the silence.
âYou donât have to come. I just- I donât know what I was thinking. I shouldnât have texted, Iâm sorry.â His voice faded slightly, like heâd pulled the phone away from his ear to hang up.
And, well, you were going to blame what you said next on the fact that it was well after midnight and that youâd been awake for too many consecutive hours.Â
âWhen is everyone coming up?â
Brock was silent, not even the sound of his breathing coming over the line. You checked to make sure he hadnât, in fact, ended the call.
âUh, second week of August,â he finally said.
âOkay.â
âOkay?â Brock echoed. You could picture the crease between his eyebrows.
âYeah, âokay.â Iâll think about it,â you said.Â
You didnât know why you said that.
You didnât know why you booked a flight to Minneapolis, or why you were actually looking forward to it. Even when Brock texted to warn you that some of his Canucks teammates would be there with the old faces from UND.Â
You didnât know what you were doing as you stood in the entryway of a lake house in Minnesota. Out on the deck, you could see some familiar faces, but you had never felt so out of place in your life.Â
This was a bad idea. No, it was a terrible idea. You werenât in college anymore. These werenât your friends, your people. They had all moved on with their lives, and so had you. A weekend on a lake in Minnesota would only bring back the memories and the regrets of years gone by.Â
You were just debating turning around and pretending that you had never even come when Brock stepped in and saw you standing there, looking like a fool. He looks surprised to see you. You take another step into the house.
âHey, Y/N!â The surprise is gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with what looks like genuine happiness. âCâmon, everyoneâs outside.â
You follow silently, taking in Brockâs bare, tanned shoulders, the way his hair looks blonder from hours spent out on the lake. For a moment, youâre both 19 again.
Stetch yells when he sees you first, and then youâre being mobbed by hockey players. You only know a couple from UNDâ Stetch, Drake, and Josty, to startâ and the rest are from Vancouver, introductions blurring together in a mess of faces and nicknamesâ Tuna, Petey, and Chris, who had definitely been called Dad by at least three different people.
You finally manage to break away and head for a drink, but Brock follows you.
âIâm glad you came,â he says, and you believe him, look into his eyes, painfully earnest and real and blue like the reflection of the sky on the lake. You offer a weak smile in return, not sure if you can say the same, not yet. Brock steps closer and opens the lid of the cooler youâre standing next to. âJess says you ended up in D.C. after all. How is that? You happy?âÂ
His question catches you off-guard, and you hesitate, too long. âYeah,â you say finally. âYeah, itâs great.â Everything Iâve ever wanted, except youâre not there, is what you donât say. You wonder briefly if he can still see right through you.
Brockâs head is buried in the cooler as he digs through the ice, but you can still see the way his shoulders go up like they always do when heâs frowning. Thatâs a yes, then.Â
âWhatâs the difference between a White Claw and a Truly, anyway?â he muses instead of calling you out, before surfacing with one of each in his hands. He offers them both to you, and you take the Trulyâ wild berry, your favorite, not that Brock would have any reason to know thatâ and leave him the White Claw. He cracks it open and takes a long drink. You tear your eyes away from the line of his throat as he swallows.
âBoyfriend couldnât make it?â Brock asks pointedly. Damn, he still follows you on Instagram.
You take a drink yourself instead of answering right away. âCouldnât get off work,â you say. Which isnât a lie, not really, but you hadnât even asked, just told him you would be visiting home for the week. You didnât think heâd love the idea of spending a weekend with a bunch of hockey players, especially when the one whoâd invited you happened to be your ex-boyfriend.
Brock just blinks at you for a moment. âWell, Iâm glad you could make it,â he says again, just as honest as before.Â
When the next person asks if youâre happy in D.C., youâre not quite as off-guard, and you manage to smile when you answer this time. Brock is watching you from across the deck, though, and you wonder if the smile looked as fake as it felt to everyone else, or if it was just Brock.Â
Youâre arguing with Josty about something ridiculous, when Emma, Troyâs girlfriend, sees you for the first time.Â
âOh my God, you cut your hair! Itâs so cute!â she said before wrapping you up in a hug.
When she lets you go, you sweep your hair over one shoulder, an old habit from when it hung halfway down your back; it barely brushed your shoulders now.
âThought it was time for a change,â you say, âand my boyfriend really likes it this way.â
Next to you, Tyson frowns and mumbles something about finding Brock. You and Emma both watch him go, a little confused.
I know itâs been a while, I donât mean to pry
But when I asked you if youâre happy, I didnât hear a smile,Â
and that donât sound like you
Youâre sitting on the dock with your feet in the water that night when Brock settles next to you. Up at the house, everyone is either asleep or on their way to it. Youâre both quiet for a moment, just the sound of crickets and the water lapping against the dock.Â
âI wasnât sure youâd actually come,â Brock says lowly.Â
You breathe out a laugh. âI wasnât either, not until I was actually here,â you admit.Â
âWhy did you come?â
âWhy did you invite me?â you counter. It was the thing that kept bothering you about all this. Why had Brock decided to reach out now, after so long, after youâd moved on?
Brock sighs. âHadnât heard from you in a while.â Itâs almost defensive, the way he says it.Â
âNot like you tried very hard to catch up ever,â you say, and itâs mean, because you had stopped responding first, but you hadnât known what else to do, how else to handle the heartbreak you had to relive with every text.Â
âYou fucking stopped talking to me!â Brock says, and, yeah, you deserve that, deserve the anger in his voice. You donât expect to hear sadness, too, but you do.Â
âWhat else was I supposed to do, Brock? Keep torturing myself with every text I sent?â You canât bring yourself to be mad. You tilt your chin to look up at the stars instead, pretend you canât feel Brockâs eyes on you. The stars are so much brighter out here, back home. âYou were off chasing your dream, so it was time I went after mine.â
Thereâs silence for a moment. Then, âWhyâd you come here, Y/N?â
âI donât know. One last hurrah for when we were all in college? For freshman year when the future seemed so bright? For when I still thought having a good job in a good city with a guy who loves me would make me happy, but sometimes I feel like Iâm in the wrong city with the wrong guy?â
You get up before Brock can answer and leave him sitting on the dock in the dark.Â
Morning comes, and youâre not sure the conversation with Brock even happened, except for the fact that Brock is alternating between watching you intently and refusing to make eye contact. Chris makes everyone breakfast, and you now understand why everyone was calling him Dad. You settle next to Troy, lean your head on his shoulder.Â
âDid I somehow do something to make Petey not like me?â you ask, watching him talk quietly to Brock at the other end of the table.Â
âNah,â Stetch says, taking a bite of bacon. âHis English still isnât great, and his default resting face makes it look like he hates everyone.â He pauses, takes another bite. âWell, and the fact that you broke our boy Brockâs heart. Heâs sensitive, donât ya know?â His tone is light, teasing, but his words make you freeze.
You gasp, too loud for the morning air. A couple people glance over at you, but youâre turning to Stetch, who at least looks like he realizes his mistake.
âBrock broke up with me,â you hiss.
Troy barely glances down the table at Brock, but you still catch it. For a split second, you consider just getting up and leaving, but settle for glaring at Brock, who doesnât look up. His cheeks still flush like he can feel your eyes on him.
âI no longer want to be a part of this conversation,â Stetch says, making a move to get up, but you grab his wrist. He winces but stays sitting. âLook, he came back for his rookie year and was always kinda quiet-â You scoff. â-but none of us asked any questions, and then after All-Star he said youâd stopped responding to his texts.â Stetch finishes with a shrug.Â
âI stopped answering because I was still in love with him and stuck in North Dakota after he broke up with me that summer, dumbass. What the hell else was I supposed to do after he told me he wished I were at the All-Star Game with him? I was never going to be able to follow Brock to Vancouver, and he made it pretty clear he never really wanted me to, anyway.â
You didnât realize that most of the conversations around the table had gone quiet until it was too late. Brock had gone pale. You had never wanted a confrontation, not here, but it was looking inevitable. Everyone else seemed to sense this, too, because soon the table was cleared, and it was just you and Brock.Â
âWhy do you stay if youâre not happy?â is what Brock says first.
âI- what?â
Brock smiles at you, but itâs sad. âDo you think I canât tell?â
âI am happy,â you say, defensive. And you are, or you will be one day, once you can finally stop thinking about Brock, about all the what-ifs, the possibilities that are long gone. You were getting there, too, before you came back to Minnesota for this weekend and everything came crashing down around your ears. Still, maybe this is the closure you needed.
âOh yeah?â Brock says in return, and it's a taunt, really, mean in a way that heâs never been with you.
âSince when do you have any right to my happiness? What do you want me to say, Brock? That I always knew we were never meant to work out, but I fell in love with you anyway? That I went to D.C. and got everything I wanted, but once I had it, it didnât seem right anymore? They say you never forget your first love, and, dammit, itâs really hard when yours is living his dream and tearing it up in the NHL. Is that what you want to hear, Brock? That Iâll never really get over you, even as I fall in love again, resign myself to the fact that someone else is going to fall in love with you someday, and be everything for you I couldnât?â
Brock is frozen at the other end of the table. You want to jump in the lake, stay underwater until your lungs burn and your tears are hidden. You want to get in your rental car and drive, drive all the way to Minneapolis and keep going until youâre out of Minnesota and never look back. You want to kiss Brock, for old timeâs sake, and you never want to see his face again.Â
He still hasnât said anything, so you turn and go inside, past everyone pretending like they hadnât just been watching everything. Youâre throwing everything back in your bag when Brock stumbles up the stairs. You pause, cross your arms, and raise an eyebrow at him.Â
âShit, wait,â he pants.
You canât hold back the smirk. âArenât you supposed to be a professional athlete?â you say, almost without thinking.Â
Brock flips you off as he leans against the doorframe, but itâs half-hearted.Â
âYou canât just say shit like that and then fucking walk away,â he says, and it comes out more like a whine. âI just- I had no idea. Shouldâve probably, yeah, but-â he stops, collects his thoughts. âWhat did you mean when you said you could never follow me to Vancouver?â
âWould you even have asked,â you say, which isnât an answer at all.
âI donât know, you were always talking about all of your plans, and I never wanted to stop you. I didnât know if youâd ever want to follow me.â And, finally, for the first time in years, it seems like you two understand each other.
âOf course I did,â you say softly, and Brock looks up at you, surprised. âI just didnât know that then. And then I didnât think you wanted me, not when I was just some girl from college.â
âYou were never just some girl from college,â Brock says quickly. He rolls his eyes. âYou wanna know why I asked if you were happy? You cut your hair.â Brock sounds pained, and you remember all the times he would play with your hair while you cuddled on the couch or in bed. âSince when do you change something like that for a guy?â
âAnd I wouldnât have had to change for you? After Iâd graduated, if you wanted me to come to Vancouver for you?âÂ
Brockâs recoils, your words like a slap to the face, but itâs not as vindicating as you thought it would be. âItâs not just the hair. Itâs the way you talk, the way you smile. What happened to the girl I knew?â
And thatâs the problem. Youâre not the girl he knew, not anymore. Youâve both grown up, lived life a little more. You might still love Brock, but you love the Brock from North Dakota, not the one whoâs been in Vancouver for two years. You donât know that Brock, and maybe you could love him, but thatâs not for you to find out. Itâs not fair to anyone. It just took you coming out to the lake to realize that.Â
So you smile at Brock and say, âShe got her heart broken and left North Dakota behind.â But you follow Brock back downstairs, spend the day out on the water, feeling settled for the first time since you got there, maybe since you had last spoken to Brock way back in 2018.Â
That town, that job, that guy
You can leave them behind, girl, you know youâre better than that
The boys build a bonfire after dinner, as the sun sets over the lake, and someone breaks out the ingredients for sâmores.Â
âYâknow,â Brock says, resting his hand on your knee after youâve settled into a chair. His hand is warm through the blanket draped over your lap. âFor what itâs worth, there would always be a place for you in Vancouver.âÂ
Maybe there would be, but you werenât sure that that place was somewhere you belonged. You donât say that, though, just settle your feet in Brockâs lap and take the marshmallow thatâs being offered to you.Â
Thereâs a life waiting for you on the other side of the continent, and it just might be the one you were always meant to have.Â
#cait writes things#brock boeser#brock boeser fic#brock boeser imagine#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#brock boeser fanfic#vancouver canucks fanfic
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Mecation: Day 1Â
Thursday
I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. Iâm indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)
If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know Iâm a nurse. While Iâve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I donât recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didnât have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.
COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parentsâ, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages.Â
When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hoursâ drive away. Iâm single and live alone; it was the most isolated Iâve ever been in my whole life.Â
With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I havenât seen them in a year. If it werenât for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (Iâve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it werenât for COVID, I wouldnât have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college.Â
I was alone on Christmas. Oh, Iâve spent December 25th on my own before; Iâm a nurse. Iâve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didnât leave enough time off to drive home. But Iâve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didnât feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.
Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to.  Proverbs 13:12 says, âHope deferred makes the heart sick,â and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldnât visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldnât lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with.Â
I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip Iâm on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now Iâm a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (Iâm not counting my nephewâs graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)
I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, Iâm American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (donât ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.
I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. Iâd been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, Iâm cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.
Then came Delta.
All right, maybe going out of the country isnât the best idea, I thought. Donât want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but canât get back home. But I didnât want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didnât want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didnât seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.
Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! Iâve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential!Â
Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didnât have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; Iâd had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing Iâve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesnât matter if youâre happy if youâre dead; it is also true it doesnât matter if youâre safe if you want to kill yourself. (Iâm not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, donât anybody panic.)
So, now Iâve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.
So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and Iâm back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is itâs bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and theyâre all vented. SICU is being nicknamed âthe ECMO unit.â The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didnât even know we had 12 because sheâs never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day.Â
And Iâm going to travel.
Itâs a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how Iâm successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time Iâd been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasnât my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. Iâm still not sure if Iâm managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know Iâm less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease.Â
So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekendâs to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian.Â
Thatâs me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to yâall; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, thatâs saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure Iâve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, Iâm wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since âno oneâ was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (Thatâs another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when youâre masked whenever youâre in public.)
I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I donât like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :)Â
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PART THREE OF ?
Previously: one, two
Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Female OC (Hazel Baker) x Matt Jackson
Summary: Rodeo/Cowboy AU -Â And just like that, fate has brought Hazel back to none other than Adam Page. Though last time theyâd crossed paths heâd seemed eager to be rid of her company, Adam confesses the truth in his feelings for her and admits that he hasnât forgotten her this entire time theyâve been apart. But now Hazel has serious feelings for Adamâs close friend, Matt... yet even she canât deny that she has an indescribable connection with Adam that just canât be ignored.
Rating: explicit
Length: 30,074 words
Warnings: unprotected sex x2, angst, characters being idiots and not communicating their feelings properly... oh also probably some gratuitous horse knowledge no one cares about. you know, the usual.
authorâs note: I wanted to get out this next part out as a holiday gift for all you amazing people who have been so encouraging about this series. I honestly canât tell you how much your comments mean to me and how much pride and joy I feel at every little like or reblog or interaction with this fic series. At the start of 2020 I told myself this would be the year I finally wrote something that got to 50k words. I am proud to say with this installment Starlight is currently at 68k words, surpassing my goal. Hell, maybe itâs taken me an entire year to write it, but still, I did it! Now my next goal for 2021? Actually finish a story for once - this story. I have the outline planned and I canât begin to explain to all of you how much your support and encouragement keeps me going to get the rest of this story out there. Anyways! Long note out of the way, I just want to sincerely thank you guys for your support of this fic series. It really means the world to me. Oh also - yeah... things are about to get VERY messy in this fic.
He hadnât stopped thinking about her.
Four months. Sixteen weeks. After barely an evening of talking, if even. After inches away from a kiss, never quite knowing what that touch would have felt like. Something told him â kept telling him â it would have been life-changing. Some nights he was grateful he didnât know; some nights it tormented his sleep, left him kicking and twisting as he turned this way and that, grunting in irritation as he wished sleep would be a reprieve from her memory.
Prone to worrying, there were times he wondered if he was building her up into something she wasnât. Maybe she wasnât as pretty as he remembered her being. A soft, round face; brown eyes that he could almost guarantee must be covered by a film of gold in the sunlight; silky, dark brown hair that made his fingers itch like mad to curl around and comb through; a body that begged for his palms to frame the natural pinch of her hips; a smile that made him catch his breath, that made him feel like the leading man in one of those old romance movies his mama used to watch.
No, she was beautiful, though it wasnât her physical beauty that clung her to his memory. It was that feeling of being with someone he suddenly wasnât afraid to talk with, who he willingly found himself opening up to before he remembered he hated opening up to people. The way he couldnât stop smiling every time their eyes met, as though their souls shared a secret.
Maybe she would have stopped haunting him, were it not nearly every weekend he heard her name. He should have been prepared for the consequence of bowing out to Mattâs interest in her, but he wasnât. Couldnât be. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. As Matt talked about her at the rodeos with his brother, with Kenny, it was nothing pointed or directed specifically at Adam. If anything, it seemed Matt forgot altogether thereâd been an energy between Hazel and Adam, and Nick seemed to never broach the subject of how close Adam had been with her when he found them.
But sometimes when Matt laughed on the phone with her after a run, and Adamâs fingers tightened on whatever he was holding, Nick would look at him and it almost seemed sympathetic. Maybe Adam was projecting. Maybe he just wanted someone to know the pain he was quietly suffering, not understanding how to see himself through it, adding to the pile of other anxieties and circling thoughts that spun around and around inside his head every day. At any rate, Nick would always side with his brother, time and time again. So why would he feel bad for Adam?
Itâll go away eventually. Thatâs what he kept telling himself. Youâre just lonely. Itâd been awhile. He kept to himself, but even he was only human, even he felt an aching need for companionship here and again, however temporary. Go to a bar, get drunk, find someone to hook-up with. Youâll forget about her soon. It would work, but only for a night, and only because he drank enough to forget everything but his name. Sometimes he even forgot that. Heâd be left with the lingering feeling of thinking he was some sort of ass, going out and using another person for his personal vice like they were something disposable for him and had no thoughts or feelings of their own. Everyone said he was such a good person, but how could he be when he did things like that?
Itâll go awayâŚ
Itâll go awayâŚ
Itâll go awayâŚ
Then, like magic, there she was. Standing not but four feet in front of him. Breathing the same air as him.
And God, her brown eyes did look softly glittered in gold as the sun hit them. He sucked in a sharp breath and blinked, breaking through the surface from dream into reality.
âHi,â she said, and her voice was soft. Her eyes danced between his and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking. He wanted to reach out, put his hands on hers and pull her in toward him so he could cover her lips with his and finally know what she tasted like.
âHello,â he said.
Something shifted in his peripherals and hit him like a splash of cold water. He jerked and glanced to his left, seeing a woman he didnât recognize watching them with a peculiar expression across her face.
It seemed Hazel did the same.
âOh!â She gasped, startled, âAdam, this is my friend, Rosie.â
Rosieâs red-painted lips spread into a smile and there seemed a light in her eyes as she walked forward to accept his handshake. âThe Adam?â She asked, with a tone that clearly indicated sheâd heard about him before. Clearly from Hazel.
 âUh, I guess that must be me? Adam Page.â He supplied with a small, awkward laugh and hoped his cheeks werenât too hot. âRosie, itâs a pleasure.â He glanced from Rosie to Hazel before heâd even slipped his fingers from their cordial handshake. Sheâd talked about him. What had she said?
Probably that he was an ass, considering their last interaction together.
Somewhere among his racing thoughts he found the manners heâd been raised with. âMy friend Adam is over by the arena, if you want to wait with him while I take Hazel to look at the horses and see which one she wants to ride first.â He didnât need to separate them; Rosie could easily come along with Hazel too.
But he wanted â no, needed â to talk to Hazel alone.
âYour friend's name is Adam too?â Hazel asked, and he heard a brief note of amusement in her tone. âDoesnât that get a little confusing?â
âSometimes,â he laughed. âIf it makes it easier, you can call him âHey assholeâ too, heâll probably answer to it.â
âIâll keep that in mind,â Rosie said as he directed her down the path toward the arena, where theyâd meet in a moment and then, finally, he and Hazel were alone. He glanced down at her profile and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He swallowed thick, Adamâs apple bobbing, and cleared his throat a little weakly.
âThe horses are this way,â he said, voice trailing off. It clearly wasnât what he wanted to say, but he was struggling with where to even begin. Maybe he would sort himself out on the walk through the barn to where heâd left the first prospect in crossties. Hazel fell in step beside him and he watched her get distracted taking his property in. Did she like it? He looked around where her eyes were falling and wondered what she was noticing. He loved his home; it was the sanctuary he had built for himself and the one place he felt completely and totally in control.
âI saw Dolly out in the front pasture,â she said, glancing up at him and nearly making him stumble over his boots.
âYeah! I have her out grazing today, letting her be a little lazy.â He smiled and Hazel smiled too. âActually,â he started, voice bouncing around with a soft echo as they stepped inside his fourteen-stall main barn. âThe first mare youâre going to look at is Dollyâs full-blooded younger sister. Sheâs about four years younger than Dolly; just turned four this last April.â
âOh! I canât wait to see her.â She said, and her voice sounded honest enough that it warmed him somewhere, seeing how taken she was with Dolly. âYour barn is beautiful,â she sighed as they passed the third stall. Heâd noticed sheâd been peeking in curiously through the black-iron bars to each one they passed to look at the horse inside if there was one.
âThank you,â he said, and felt himself straighten his posture a little proudly. âI sank most of my first- and second-yearâs earnings into getting this whole place redone. Tore down the old barn, paid to have this one constructed. Did the same to the hay barn and the mare hotel and boarding barn out back. Put in a new sprinkler system for the pastures, repaired the fencing, leveled out the arena and trucked in a good dirt-sand blend for itâŚâ He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat. âSorry, you⌠probably donât care about any of that.â
âNo!â She said, quickly, and her smile seemed a little shy. âI mean, yes. I do, actually. Iâm kind of a nerd for all of this stuff.â She ducked her head and laughed. âWhen I couldnât physically be around horses anymore, I found other ways to try and be involved with them, which mainly meant playing online games where you owned virtual horses and virtual stables.â
A grin cracked over his mouth. âWow, you really are a horse geek, huh?â
Her smile was a full-on beam of sunshine, it was so bright and struck him so warmly. âShut up,â she said, but it was chased by a laugh. He found himself laughing too.
There were only a few steps left until they would reach the big, open, padded space with a drain and hose hook-up where heâd secured the little gold mare in crossties as he groomed her this morning in preparation. A few more steps until theyâd talk about the horse, about riding, heâd see if she wanted to tack up and ride her around the arena before he pointed out the other two and checked if she wanted to ride them, too.
Only a few steps before he may lose his chance to say all those things he wanted â no, needed â to say.
âHey,â he started, stopping suddenly in his tracks. She stopped a pace later, turning around and frowning up at him. âLook, I know this might not be necessary but, I need to apologize to you.â Those words were hard to get out. They felt thick like molasses on his tongue, but he pushed through anyways. He saw her confusion deepen and explained. âI was an ass to you last time we talked and there was no reason for it.â
âOh,â she breathed, and suddenly he knew she was there in that place with him. No longer were they tiptoeing around the past, heâd been brave enough to force them to look right at it, because he couldnât take not addressing it.Â
âHey, look, itâs alright.â She was being nice.
âNo, itâs not.â He said, firmly. âI uh⌠look, I can be a piece of shit sometimes - thatâs not an excuse or anything - but the way I talked to youâŚâ He felt like he was fumbling. How was he supposed to apologize without telling her why it was so important that he did? That he couldnât live another day knowing that was her last impression of him?
He knew she was Mattâs girl⌠but Matt never had problems getting girls, did he? Couldnât Adam have this one?
He forced himself to meet her eyes when his nerves wanted him to look anywhere else and the next thing he knew, he was talking and saying things he never would have thought himself brave enough to say.
âI like you, Hazel. I liked you from the minute I saw you talking to Dolly. I liked you so much it scared me. Hell, scares me, even. I havenât stopped thinking about you, not once. I know thatâs crazy to say, we barely know each other, but itâs been runninâ me in circles and I kept telling myself if fate ever put me back in front of you with the chance to say it, I couldnât let the moment go. Iâm sorry I was such a dick. MattâŚâ He trailed off.
How was he supposed to explain the man who was one of his closest friends, damn near a brother, was also inadvertently a manufacturer of his personal insecurities? That he knew every flex of Mattâs ego â be it winning another championship or getting the girls at the rodeo to fawn over him â wasnât a direct attack against his worth, but it still stung like it was.
âLook,â He sucked in a breath and shook his head, âmy point is that I really like you, and that sort of scared me, and I got in my head over everything when you and Matt started talking and I took it out on you, and that wasnât fair.â
She was staring at him. He wasnât sure if it was for a few seconds or three hours, it felt like it mustâve been an eternity. He noticed every change in her expression, the way her brows dipped in and her eyes seemed to get bigger, or how her full, pretty lips pressed together and she seemed to worry at the inner corner of the bottom one. Those lips...
Then he was leaning. Forgetting himself. Forgetting she was Mattâs girl, closing the space between them, and finally⌠God, finally⌠putting his mouth on hers.
 **********
He was kissing her.
Hazels eyelids fluttered closed, mouth yielding to his. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as she did, and then suddenly their touch was changing. His wide, warm palms found her shoulders and pushed her back until she was pressed against the wood paneling, their kiss never breaking.
A small, needy noise crawled out of her throat, suffocated in their mouths. He must have heard it, though, for how he turned his head and kissed her harder, one hand sliding away from her arm and cupping her breast over her shirt and bra. He squeezed, running his thumb back and forth and making her ache for his touch on her bare body. The clothes between them were suddenly an absolute nuisance; she wanted to feel the tingles spread from every skin-on-skin touch.
He finally broke away from her mouth only to attack her neck with just as much pent up passion, the little coarse blond hairs of his close-shaved beard scratching her skin. Hazel tipped her head back and looked up at the rafters, head spinning with delirious delight. His knee pressed between her legs and they fell apart, easily. He crowded in closer and rubbed what was quickly growing hard and long in his jeans against her thigh.
âAdam,â she groaned, fingers reaching for the hair tie he had securing his curls in a bun, undoing it, burying in to shake the curls loose and holding him against her skin. She encouraged his tasting, fingers curling around the textured strands of his honey blond hair. His tongue swept down the line of the v-neck collar of her soft cotton tee, teeth nipping at her soft, supple cleavage.
Warmth as he slipped his fingers under her shirt, nearly making her jump at the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing up her bare skin. Those fingers wiggled and pressed greedily beneath the elastic stretch of her bra and he groaned against her skin as his palm fondled her breast, her nipple hardening against his touch as he squeezed. The sound vibrated out of him, his body was so tight, so tense pressed up against her.
She was the one who found sense first, and she wanted to damn herself for it.
âAdam,â she panted, eyes opening fully on the fact that they were in the hall of his barn, his hand up her shirt and his mouth on her skin, his bulge pressed and rubbing her thigh. He didnât hear her, tongue sweeping over the dip of her clavicle. âAdam, wait,â she said, fingers curling a little tighter in his curls and tugging back to regrettably pull his mouth from her skin.
He blinked passion-fogged eyes at her, a man caught in a trance, then seemed all at once to realize their precarious position.Â
âMatt.â He exhaled in a heavy, almost angry breath.
âWhat?â she blinked.Â
âMatt.â He said again, and the look in his dark green-blue eyes seemed to harden.
Fuck, right, Matt. One of his close friends. Her⌠whatever he was to her. Hazel licked her lips and tasted Adam.
âNo,â she said, even knowing that probably should have been more than enough of a reason for them to stop. âRosie and your friend,â she said, âwhat if they come looking for us?â
He blinked and that same waking-to-reality look that sheâd had crossed his face. She slid her fingers out of his hair. âDamnit,â he muttered the curse under his breath and slipped his palm from her skin, out of her shirt, and she felt so much colder without his touch. He peeled himself away from her, but stood close, chin dipped to that broad chest and eyes full of her.
Kissing him was like⌠being caught in a whirlwind. Her eyes fell to his mouth and it took everything in her not to tell him fuck it, be quick.
âWeâre not dating,â she blurted out to distract herself from how badly she wanted him to turn her around, tug her pants down and have her up against the stall wall.
He frowned. âUhâŚâ
âNot you and me,â she blinked and refocused on his eyes. âMatt. Iâm not dating Matt.â
âOh,â he said, and she couldnât infer anything from his tone or expression, so she found herself talking more.
âWeâre going to figure things out at the end of the rodeo season.â
He made a noise in his throat to signify he understood and drug his boot a heavy step away from her.
âAdam, IâŚâ she wanted to be as open and vulnerable as heâd been. She wanted to tell him she hadnât stopped thinking about him, that she watched live streams of his rides and cheered for him. She wanted to tell him that she had never met anyone who affected her the way he did, and she wasnât sure what to think of that. But things were complicated, and theyâd left their friends alone long enough.Â
Hazel drew in a breath and shook her head, pushing from the stall wall heâd had her up against and pulling her shirt to set it right. âWe should get to the horses.â She chickened out.
âRight,â he agreed, bending to pick up the hair tie sheâd dropped, and she wished he wasnât so difficult to read. What was going on in that head of his? From the way heâd treated her the last time they saw one another sheâd have never imagined he felt the way heâd confessed to her. His fingers raked his hair back up and she tried not to pay attention to the shapely muscles in his arms. He caught her eyes and a sheepish grin curled the corners of his lips, staying until his hands had dropped and he nodded ahead.
âHazel, Iâd like to introduce you to Daisy,â he said as they stepped where the walls opened, and a pretty little golden mare was standing patiently in crossties. She perked her ears as they came around and lifted her head, watching them with curious, deep brown eyes.
âAdam, sheâs beautiful,â Hazelâs breath hitched as she moved toward her, stretching out her hand so the mare could brush her velvet, whiskered lips over it and inhale her scent. She had a broken white blaze on her face, giving her the appearance of both a star and a blaze, and her coat was slightly darker than her older sisterâs. She had no white on her legs like Dolly did and was just a little bit smaller.
âIâm glad you think so,â he said warmly. âIâve never put Daisy on the barrels, but I think she has the right build for it.â
Hazel nodded, slipping beneath one of the leads so she could run her hand along the mareâs neck, over her wither and down her back. âShe has a short back, which is good.â Hazel swept her palm down the mareâs belly and along her underside. âAnd a long undercarriage, which means sheâll have a wide stretch when she pulls away.â She ran her hand up down her hindquarters and felt how solid and stacked with muscle they were. There was a lot of power in this mare. âI could definitely see her on the barrels if she decides she has the attitude for them.â
âYeah?â He seemed just as excited as she was, and when she looked over at him, she saw he was smiling. For a few drawn out seconds they smiled at one another before he cleared his throat and blinked. âLet me go grab some tack and weâll get her saddled so you can try her out.â
âOkay,â Hazel said, smiling and turning back to the mare as he left for the tack room. Once he was out of her line of sight, she exhaled low, working through the nerves that were storming through her. She lifted her hand and placed her palm on Daisyâs neck. The mare blew a soft breath through her nose and flicked an ear back, pointing it at Hazel. It made Hazel smile, like Daisy was already ready to listen to whatever Hazel needed to talk about.
âYouâre a pretty girl,â Hazel murmured and curled her fingers, gently scratching the mareâs neck. She worked her way down to the top of her wither and Daisy stretched her neck out, clearly enjoying the rub. Hazel laughed gently and glanced as Adam came back with a saddle over one arm and the bridle and bit hanging off the horn.
âYou two seem to be getting on,â he said with a grin, setting the saddle down and grabbing the bridle, stepping toward Daisyâs head.
âHere,â she offered, âLet me.â She stepped forward to take the bridle, slipping the headstall over Daisyâs ears before unclipping the leads from the halter she was wearing and unbuckling its clasp, slipping it off her face so it could be replaced with the bridle. As she gently offered the bit against the mareâs lips, Adam hefted the saddle and pad up and walked it around to the mareâs other side, swinging it over her back.
âShe takes her tack politely,â Hazel commented as Daisy let her slip the bit into her mouth without complaint.
âSheâs a well-behaved little lady,â Adam said, pulling the cinch on the saddle and buckling it up. âEspecially for a young mare. She mightâve been the easiest horse Iâve ever trained. She has a sound mind, just like her sister.â
With Hazel holding the reins they started walking out of the barn, toward the arena. She glanced over at Adam and smiled when she saw he was looking at her. She looked away, biting into her grin to try and keep it from spreading. Her head was spinning with everything heâd told her; with the taste of him still on her lips; with her body aching, remembering how nice his touch had felt.
When they were out of the stable, she put her boot in the stirrup and swung her leg over, settling in the saddle. He helped her adjust the stirrups to the right length and tilted his head up to look at her, his palm resting on Daisyâs shoulder. The late afternoon sun glittered across his face and shone in his eyes. They looked greener today than blue, pale and soft, like the grass in a meadow, early morning with the fog crawling gently over it.
Hazel gathered the reins in her hands and gave a soft click under her tongue, squeezing her knees and getting Daisy to walk. Adam fell in place, walking beside them as they rounded the bend in the path that led out to a large arena. She could see Rosie standing with a man toward the end of the arena. That mustâve been Adamâs friend. He was lean, with brown hair that rested at shoulder-length, a black cowboy hat tipped back on the top of his head while heâd talked with her. He was smiling as he gestured with his hands, clearly telling Rosie some story, and she could hear Rosieâs sweet giggles from where they stood. They seemed to be enjoying one anotherâs company.
Adam put a boot up on the bottom panel of the arena fence and leaned his forearms on the top. He nodded to the inside of the arena. âGo ahead, see how you two get on.â
Hazel smiled and added a little more pressure with her knees, asking for a trot. Daisy obliged, moving into the bouncy gait as they made their way inside the arena. Everything slipped away as Hazel started to ride. She focused on the way the horse responded to her, heart lifting at how easy and eager Daisy seemed to take commands despite them not knowing one another. A small pull on the reins and weight added to her other side had the mare switching leads and leaning in where requested, which was a good sign that sheâd be easy to train to curl around a barrel. Hazel squeezed her knees again and clicked her tongue, bringing the little mare up to a lope and then to a gallop. They circled around the wide arena three times, and Hazel felt like Daisy could have kept going. By the time she sat her weight back in the saddle and pulled up the reins she was grinning ear to ear.
âYou two look good out there,â Adam called out from where he stood. Rosie and his friend, the other Adam, had made their way down the fence line to join him as she rode.
Hazel grinned as she gently rubbed Daisyâs neck, a little warm to the touch. She got the mare walking again to help cool her down. âShe responds amazingly.â
 âIâve never had too much of a problem on her,â Adam remarked from where he was leaning. âThink sheâll do alright on barrels?â
Hazel didnât even have to think before she nodded and said, âYeah! Sheâs quick, and when I asked her to change lead, she did it with ease.â Hazel pulled the reins and stopped her near the fence line where everyone was standing. âSheâs small, and fast. I wasnât even pushing her as hard as I could. I could tell she had a little more give in her.â Hazel glanced over at Rosie. âWhat do you think of her, Rosie?â
âSheâs beautiful,â Rosie said, reaching out to gently scratch the little mareâs forehead. âWhat do you think of her?â
Hazel looked at the three expectant faces looking up at her and grinned. âHonestly? I think Iâm in love with her.â Her eyes slid to Adamâs and he smiled so bright and open she felt like her heart skipped in her chest.
âYou sure you donât want to try out the other two?â
âYou tell me,â she said, shifting in the saddle as the leather gently creaked. She let Daisy have her head, reins going slack as she dropped her arms.
âGunner has a bit of a stubborn streak and will fight you for fun until you get him to mind his manners. Iâm sure heâd make a fast little barrel horse and probably love doing it, but he isnât going to mind you as easily as she does.â He reached over the fence and fondly patted Daisyâs neck, fingers ruffling her cream-white mane. âThe other one I had thought for you to try is Cat. Heâs a bit more docile than Gunner, but heâs young and doesnât have as much experience under the saddle. I barely started him a few months ago. Out of the three, I think youâre going to like this girl best.â
Hazel nodded, grinning. âI think I agree.â Elation in her chest. âIâd love to buy her.â
Adamâs grin matched hers. âIâd love to sell her to you. Come on, letâs get her cooled down and weâll figure out getting her a vet check before we transport her to your property.â
She nodded and pressed with her inside knee, pulling the reins wide, guiding Daisy to turn around and walk toward the open entrance of the arena. Hazel couldnât believe it. The little pretty golden mare she was riding was hers. Or, going to be, once all the paperwork was finalized and so on. Finally, she had a horse again. Tears pricked hot in her eyes and she gave her head a little shake, thankful she was too far from the group for them to see. She blinked them out of her eyes and laughed softly, leaning to rub her palm along Daisyâs neck before giving her a few firm pats. âWeâre going to have a lot of fun together, Daisy.â She promised the mare in a whisper, still smiling when she rode around the bend in the path and met up with everyone near the barn.
She pulled her boot from the stirrup and swung her leg over the mareâs back, dismounting with a soft little thud into the dirt below. Pulling the reins over Daisyâs head, she fell in step with Adam as he led them back into the barn. Rosie and the other Adam (Hazel still thought that was amusing) walked along with them, which meant they werenât going to get a chance to be alone again. Hazelâs eyes darted to Adamâs, they met, and both their lips curled into smiles.
They stopped in the wide hall of the barn; Rosie being shown around by Adamâs friend since she hadnât seen the inside of it. He seemed happy to introduce her to the horses and she could hear Rosieâs compliments on how beautiful each horse was that they passed. She smiled over at Adam.
âYour friend is sweet.â
âCole?â Adam snorted, but she could tell it was good humored. âHe has yâall fooled.â
She laughed and Adam reached out for the reins, which Hazel handed over. She wasnât sure if he purposefully moved his hand or not, but his fingers bumped into hers and slid slowly across her skin as she released them. Hazel took a breath and turned to gently give Daisy a few more scratches, grateful for the distraction. Adam let the reins drop, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Daisy simply stood by, not trying to wander off once she had the freedom to do so.
âIs she registered?â
âYeah, AQHA. The name on her papers is Dun n Daisy Dukes.â
Hazel laughed. âThatâs adorable.â
âThank you, I was pretty proud of myself for that one.â Adam was grinning as he pulled the heavy saddle from her back and set it out of the way, propping it and the saddle blanket up against the nearby stall wall.
âShe and Dolly must have some Hollywood Dun It in their bloodlines Iâm guessing?â
âThey do,â Adam sounded surprised she knew.Â
âRemember? Iâm a horse geek.â Hazel smiled. âI know the prominent AQHA stallions and I know itâs tradition to register their names with something carrying over from their parents. If Daisy is registered as Dun n Daisy Dukes and Dolly is registered as Lil Dun Dolly, Iâd imagine they carried the Hollywood Dun It in their names.â
Adam whistled low, his brows lifting. âWell damn, if you know AQHA studs that well, youâll be happy to know theyâve got Flit Bar lines on their damâs side. Fire Water Flit is their great grandsire.â
At that, Hazelâs eyes widened. Fire Water Flit and his sire Flit Bar were two very prominent barrel racing studs. Their offspring had gone on to win a ridiculous amount of barrel racing championships. âOkay, you could have led with that and I probably would have been sold on her.â Their soft laughs joined together as Adam patted Deeâs neck and gathered the reins of the bridle up again, starting to walk her toward her stable.
âHow soon do you think the vet check will be?â She asked, then added, âNot that Iâm trying to rush you. Iâm just excited.â
âUnderstandable.â He smiled at her. âMy vetâs pretty good, I should be able to get her out here this week. Unless you have a vet you would rather I use?â
âNo, I trust you.â
âOkay, Iâll text you as soon as I know what day sheâs available to come out. Do you have a trailer?â
âI donât,â Hazel frowned. âI guess I could rent one.â
âDonât bother,â Adam waved his hand, âI can bring her to you.â
âAre you sure? Thatâs a six-hour drive.â
âIâd like to see her off to her new homeâ
Rosie and his friend were making their way back toward them as they put Daisy up in her stall. Adam unclipped the buckles of her bridle and slipped it over her head, stepping out and sliding the door behind him before he latched it shut.
âOkay,â Hazel agreed, and realized almost immediately this meant Adam would be coming to her house. Should she have someone over with her that day? How could she be both excited and terrified with how he made her feel? What would Matt think? Sure, heâd said they werenât dating, but that didnât mean her feelings for him vanished into thin air. If the two of them didnât know one another, it might be a different story, but with Adam and Matt being friends she wasnât certain that was a sort of drama she should invite into her life.
âWeâre all set then. When the vet finds her sound, weâll discuss a price.â
âOkay!â She grinned and looked through the black iron bars at the cute little gold mare in the stall. âI canât believe this little beauty might be mine soon. I really do adore her, Adam.â
âI can tell.â There was a warmth in his voice and when she glanced up at him, saw he was watching her, and his eyes matched his tone. âShe likes you too.â There was something in his expression that made her breath catch.
Rosieâs giggles drifted near, and when Hazel turned to look, she saw the other pair were doubling back around. Her eyes slipped back to Adamâs just as his did, and it seemed they had an unspoken moment of realizing there was still so much to say, but time had run out. Hazel decided then and there if things worked out and Adam was going to bring Daisy to her, she wouldnât have anyone at the house. Sheâd meet him alone.
She felt excited.
She felt guilty.
âHazel, you gotta give this girl some tune-up on her riding. I think sheâs got a cowgirl heart.â Adamâs friend was grinning as the pair came near enough for him to talk. Hazel glanced over at them, seeing up close the blue of his eyes that seemed almost merry with how bright they were, looking down at Rosie. Rosie had a pink blush in her fair cheeks and a wide smile on her cherry-red lipstick painted lips. Hazel had to fight to keep from smiling too obviously. They were adorable, and Rosie was clearly into him.
âI think you might be right.â Hazel agreed with a smile. There was a sudden buzz in her pocket, and she blinked, tugging her phone out and glancing at the screen. The notification banner showed her sheâd gotten a text from Matt.Â
TEXT FROM: MATT đ
Hey, when do you think youâll be home tonight?
Hazel started to type out a reply after sheâd glanced at the clock and calculated how long theyâd be driving and when they might leave here. Adamâs friend took over the conversation as she went quiet, asking Adam about one of his mares and pulling him away from watching her closely.
TEXT TO: MATT đ
Not until 10PM or so it looks like. We just put the mare up, so Iâll probably be leaving back home soon. Why???
TEXT FROM: MATT đ
FaceTime? I want to see you when you talk about the horse you saw today. I want to see that smile. â¤ď¸
A fond smile crept across her lips and a sweet ache hit her chest. Their communication had felt off when they talked last weekend when sheâd told him about finishing the stable. Since then, theyâd texted and even talked, but every time they did, Hazel had felt like there was something lingering in the air between them. Eventually sheâd written it off as her paranoia that heâd been upset sheâd hired a company to finish the barn without telling him. Once sheâd told him she was going to look at a horse, heâd gotten excited for her. Now he wanted to FaceTime so he could see her smile when she talked about the horse she saw.
TEXT TO: MATT đ
Yeah, okay! Iâll let you know when I get in. I have to drop Rosie off at home first. Canât wait to tell you about the mare!
TEXT FROM: MATT đ
I canât wait to hear all about her. Talk to you later đ
TEXT TO: MATT đ
Okay đ đ
Hazel glanced up from her phone to see everyone talking about the horses. However, when she slid her phone back into her pocket, Adam immediately glanced her way. Her smile felt nervous and she hoped it didnât look it before she glanced over at Rosie and smiled.
âYou driving home tonight?â Adam asked as the conversation slowed to a stop.
âYeah, which means we should probably get on the road soon.â The slight hint of regret that chased her tone wasnât forced as she slid her eyes back to his.
âAww, thatâs too bad,â his friend drawled, âIâve enjoyed the company.âÂ
Rosie, beside him, blushed.
âMuch better than Pageâs, thatâs for sure.â
Adam rolled his eyes. âI donât see how you couldnât like my company, Cole. You talk about a hundred miles a minute; Iâd be lucky to get a word in edgewise the entire time youâre here.â
âHe does talk a lot, doesnât he?â Rosie said, playfully thoughtful as she squinted up at Cole. Teasing.
He gasped in offense as he looked at her with surprise, and her giggles shortly followed. Hazel was smiling; Adam was too. Their eyes met and their smiles softened. There was no talking over whatâd happened between them earlier in the barn. Sheâd escaped having to tell her feelings.
Hazel knew that wasnât fair to him, especially after heâd bared his heart so openly to her.
âYou drive safe, alright?â Adam said softly, Rosie and his friend were occupied with their teasing and laughter as they headed out of the barn back toward Hazelâs truck. He reached to gently rest his hand on her lower back as they turned to follow their friends out of the barn. His palm fell away and he cleared his throat.Â
âYeah,â she said, trailing off as her steps seemed to drag. His did too.
âIâll try and get my vet out to look her over soon. When sheâs clear we can talk details. Iâm really glad you liked her.â
They stopped right outside the barn and turned toward one another.Â
âI really do.â She said on an exhale, smile spreading across her face.
âIâm glad youâre riding again, too. Especially barrels; what youâre passionate about.â
âThank you,â she said softly. Behind her she heard the truck start up and, glancing over her shoulder, saw Rosie in the driverâs seat, window rolled down as she talked to Cole, who was leaning on the truck door and giving a wide, charming, happy grin up at her. Hazel looked forward again, up at Adam. âIâll⌠talk to you later?â
âYeah,â he said, and his gaze dropped to her lips. He took a slight breath and looked back at her eyes. Hazel felt flush. She licked her lips and swallowed against the sudden jump in her pulse. âGoodbye, Hazel. IâmâŚâ his blond brows pinched. âIâm happy it was you today.â
âIâm happy it was you, too.â She said, sotto voce.Â
âYou better go on before they get suspicious.â He said with a wry smile, nodding toward their friends.
âYeah, I guess I better⌠bye Adam.â
âBye darlinâ.â He breathed a regretful sigh, eyes meeting hers. She had a feeling all heâd wanted to do was grab her up against him and kiss her dizzy like theyâd done earlier.Â
She wanted him to do that too.
Instead, Hazel gave her a little half-wave and turned around to walk to the passenger side of her truck, climbing in the cab and buckling up as Cole nodded and said goodbye to Rosie, stepping back so they could take off. Hazel watched Adamâs figure grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until they drove too far down the drive to see him. She sighed, shoulders dropping.
âOkay,â Rosie said as they stopped before turning on the main road, âwe have six hours, and I have a lot to tell you, but you need to tell me everything about what happened when you and Adam were alone.â
Hazel groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes, dragging them down and blinking at Rosie. âThings just got really fucking complicated, thatâs what happened.â
Rosie turned onto the main road to begin their drive and Hazel told her everything that had happened and everything Adam had confessed.
âWhen he was kissing me, I completely forgot about Matt. It wasnât until Adam brought him up when we stopped that I suddenly remembered. I feel awful.â
âWhat are you going to do about Matt?â Rosie asked curiously.
âI donât know. Weâre not actually dating, right? Matt made that pretty clear. He doesnât want to talk about it until the rodeo season is over in December. So⌠Iâm technically single? But theyâre friends. They know each other. Closely!â
âAnd what happens in December if Matt says he wants to exclusively date you? Or what happens before December if Adam tells you heâd exclusively date you now?â
Hazel swallowed and shook her head slowly. âI honestly donât know.â
âI just donât want to see you get hurt again, Hazel. Cause you know if either of those men hurt you, Iâll whoop them.â
Despite the fact Rosie was a sweetheart through and through, Hazel did not doubt her ability to become a tough little firecracker in her defense. It made Hazel laugh as she nodded. âI know you will. Thatâs why I love you.â The girls shared a smile before Hazel continued. âI know it isnât the smart thing to do, but I think Iâm just going to keep letting the cards fall where they do. Iâll have to tell Matt tonight the mare is Adamâs, and maybe Iâll just tell him what happened.â
âAnd if he gets upset and doesnât want to talk to you anymore?â
âWell,â she had a sinking feeling in her gut, âI guess thatâs his fault for not wanting to try being with me when I offered. Or my fault for kissing Adam? I donât know.â
âIâll leave my phone ringer on when I sleep tonight if you need an emergency best friend conversation.â
âA true friend,â Hazel said fondly. âWhich Iâm not being, speaking of⌠you still need to tell me about Mr. Handsome Cowboy you were flirting up a storm with.â
Rosie grinned and even though it was dark in the cab, Hazel swore she could see a little blush in her cheeks.
âOh, the other Adam?â
âMhm,â Hazel said, grinning.
âHeâs a flirt.â She rolled her eyes. âI saw right through him within five minutes of us talking. But⌠heâs cute. He got really excited to tell me about bull riding when I told him Iâd never watched it. Didnât make me feel dumb for not knowing, you know?â
âYeah,â Hazel said, smiling.Â
âHe asked me for my number.â
âHe did?!âÂ
âYeah! When he was leaninâ on the truck and you were talking to your Adam.â
âAnd? Did you give it to him?â
âNo.â
âWhat? Why?â Hazel sat up and frowned at Rosie.
âHeâs pry a womanizer. Doesnât actually care about me, you know? Just flirts with any girl he sees.â
âHe didnât flirt with me,â Hazel pointed out.
âThatâs because any fool with eyes could see the hearts Adam had in his eyes every time he looked at you.â
She flushed at that.
âI donât know. He was cute but, I definitely felt like that attraction wasnât as authentic for him as it was for me, you know?â
Hazel hummed under her breath. âI donât know about that, he looked pretty into you as far as I could see. Hey, maybe youâll get a chance to see him again in the future, given that Iâm apparently seeing Adam again.â
âWell, maybe I wouldnât mind seeing him again. He is really damn cute.â
âHe is,â Hazel agreed with a laugh.
They arrived at Rosieâs house first and, after a goodbye and a hug, Hazel climbed into the driverâs seat and pulled her phone out while she was still parked. She yawned and clicked through to the text messages between her and Matt.
TEXT TO: MATT đ
Just dropped Rosie off, Iâll be home in about twenty minutes!
TEXT FROM: MATT đ
Sounds good babe.
She smiled and clicked to black the screen out, tossing it gently into the passengerâs seat and pulling the truck out of the driveway. How was she going to tell him about what happened between her and Adam?
âI should just be forward,â she muttered out loud to herself, frowning at the road in front of her. âI should just tell him like, look, Matt, you remember when Adam and I came up to the fire when we first met? I had almost kissed Adam earlier that night and I do have feelings for him. Today he told me he has feelings for me, and we kissed.â She swallowed and exhaled.
âJesus, I canât tell him that. Hey, Matt, turns out the horse is Adamâs, you know, one of your super close friends? Also turns out he and I have intense feelings for one another, and we made out and he touched my boob! Okay see ya later bye!â
Hazel choked on a laugh that was followed by a groan and a heavy sigh.
âHazel, you idiot.â She scolded herself under her breath, turning her truck into her drive. She rolled to a stop and parked, turning the key in the ignition to shut the engine off and sit in the silence of the cab as she glanced at her unlit house.
Sheâd pick Carson and Callahan up tomorrow from the pet sitterâs, it was too late to get them now. Itâd be weird to spend the night completely alone in the house. Hazel swallowed against that feeling and grabbed her bag, climbing out of the truck and locking it behind her as she pulled her house key free and jogged up the porch steps. Hopefully sheâd be tired by the time she and Matt got done talking and be able to just go right to sleep. She had traveled for twelve hours and ridden, after all.
Hazel pushed the door open and locked it behind her, tossing the keys onto the catch-all that sat on the little table in the foyer, entering her house and flipping lights on as she walked through. Her purse was discarded on the couch and she tugged her phone from her pocket, tapping a message to Matt as she wandered into her room.
 TEXT TO: MATT đ
Home! Let me shower really quick. Give me twenty? đ
She underhand tossed the phone onto her bed and bent to tug her boots off, straightening as she pulled her shirt over her head and went for her bra. A sigh of relief followed unclasping the back-strap and she shrugged out of it as she went for the drawer full of big, soft, comfortable shirts to sleep in. She tugged the lavender one free and opened another drawer to grab a pair of white little sleep-shorts. Holding them in one hand she pulled her jeans and panties off, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she made for her bathroom.
Hazel showered quick and the warm water felt like a luxury against her muscles thatâd likely be sore tomorrow. She shut her mind free of the confusing thoughts circling it and the anxiety of what would happen when she told Matt whatâd happened with Adam, or how she was going to broach that topic at all. It was refreshing to dry off and feel clean, too, and she closed her eyes as she towel dried her hair, enjoying it for a moment.Â
When she opened her eyes, she could see her reflection looking back at her and shook her head, laughing dryly to herself. âSix months ago, I swore I was never going to date again, now here I am getting caught between two men.â No, that had definitely never been the plan. Hazel rolled her eyes at herself and set the towel aside, grabbing for her pajamas and tugging them on.Â
Was it unfair for her to try and casually be with them both, unknowingly, for a moment? If she told Adam she wasnât ready to be exclusive with him because she still didnât know whether she and Matt were going to agree to date in December, would he be okay with that? Would he still want to see her, when she told him sheâd like to explore their feelings? Could she tell Matt? Was it wrong for her not to include him? If Adam knew and she knew, it wasnât fair that Matt didnât know the whole picture, too.
Question upon question were piling up. She shook her head and grabbed her phone, stomach turning as she walked out of her room toward the kitchen for a water. Her phone started to ring just as she got to the fridge. Balancing the phone in one hand she slid to answer the call, smiling as Matt popped up on the screen.
âHey!â She said.
âThere you are,â he said, and grinned. âI feel like I havenât seen you in forever.â
âItâs been awhile since weâve FaceTimed,â she agreed, opening a nearby cabinet to grab a glass and get water from the spout on the fridge.
âIt has,â he said. âSo? How was the horse?â
Hazel laughed, but it was chased by nerves. âYeah, about that. The ranch was actually-â and right before she could say it was Adamâs, her doorbell rang. âWhat the hell?â She muttered, setting the water down and looking toward the door.
âWhoâs at your house this late?â Matt asked.
âI donât know.â It was just hitting 11:00PM. âMaybe Rosie left something in my truck.âÂ
She walked quietly until stopping before the door, pressing up on the tips of her toes to look through the peephole. She gasped at who she saw and wrenched the door open, heartbeat jumping.
âMatt?! What the hell are you doing here?!â
He grinned, ending their FaceTime call as he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his wranglers. âI was in the neighborhood. Come here, I havenât held you in weeks.â The last time theyâd seen one another had been when heâd left the first time. Since then, their talks had been strictly by phone.
Matt pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him, heart sighing to remember what it felt like to have his touch. He was warm against the fall chill at their backs. His thumb pressed gently under her chin and he pushed her face up to look at him while he dipped and slipped his lips across hers. Hazel sighed into the kiss, turning her head to find a better position.
They pulled slowly apart, and she shook her head, still unable to believe he was actually here, on her porch, holding her. âWait, I thought you had a rodeo you came home from today.â
âI did.â He said and tipped his head toward the inside of her house. âCâmon, let's get off the porch.â
He bent to pick up the straps to a lightly packed black duffel bag and followed her inside. âRight after I put my horse up, I texted Nick asking him to feed for me tonight and in the morning, packed an overnight bag, unhitched my trailer and started the drive up here.â
Hazel closed the door behind her and turned around to face him just as Matt set the duffle bag down and turned toward her. âWhy?â
He reached out, either palm sliding warm over her hips. He pulled her in to him, chin to chest as his dark brown eyes softened on her face. âBecause I missed you. Because when you were first planning to buy a horse from Bob, I knew his ranch was only a couple hours away from mine, and I was going to show up there and surprise you.âÂ
âI was going to surprise you!â Hazel said, grinning. âI was going to show up on your porch with an overnight bag after I looked at the horse.â A realization hit and her brows rose as she glanced down at his bag, then back at him. âHey, you stole my idea.â
Matt laughed and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. âOnce you werenât going to Bobâs and were instead going the opposite direction, I realized that meant I didnât know when I was going to be able to see you next. I didnât like that, so here I am.â
Hazel laughed behind closed lips and shook her head. âHere you are.â
Matt dipped his head and pushed his lips against hers again. Hazel once again melted into him, and let her body be walked back until she was against the door. Her lips opened for him and his tongue took the invitation, sliding in along hers. The longer they kissed the hungrier they became. Mattâs hand chased up the curve of her hip, up her side and framed her breast. He pinched her nipple over her shirt, softly pulling, making it a hard, needy peak as she gasped into his mouth. He grinned, chuckling before he kissed her again and smoothed his palm over her breast before moving to tease her other nipple in the same way.
She and Matt hadnât seen one another in weeks, which led to them forgetting about everything and stumbling through the house, stopping to kiss and touch and giggle and moan here and there as they went. Eventually they made it to her room - his shirt was gone, sheâd tugged it off down the hallway, and his hair was down and loose around his shoulders - and Matt didnât let up. He moved with her clear until the back of her knees pressed against the bed, her fingers on his warm, bare chest, running up and then down over his arms. She felt the curve of muscle as he flexed beneath her touch and her lips, against his, lifted into a smile.
He pulled his mouth off hers. âClimb on the bed,â his breath was low, warm against her kiss-swollen lips, his voice rough with need, âAnd take these clothes off.â His fingers pried at the soft lavender tee she was wearing, tugging pointedly at the hem. With one more urgent kiss against her lips, he finally stepped away, hands falling quickly to the big, shiny buckle on his belt. As she tugged her shirt over her head, he popped the belt open on his jeans and tugged the zipper down quick. His fingers hooked in the denim and he hesitated, just briefly, eyes ravenously black as they fell to her bare breasts. His lips fell apart and she ached for him, for the familiar sweet sting of his beard burn he left after he kissed and sucked at her nipples.
He tugged his jeans down and she wiggled her body atop the sheets, pulling and maneuvering to free herself from her sleep shorts and discarding them without care. He stepped out of his boots and jeans, leaving the pile on the floor as he reached down to take off his socks. Heâd undressed in a hurry up until this point, straightening and pinching his fingers in the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. Hazelâs eyes dropped and saw the thick, defined shape of his hard cock straining against the dark fabric. She wet her lips in anticipation and pushed her heels into the bed, sliding her now-naked body up the sheets and toward the pillows. Matt pulled his boxer-briefs free, cock springing, tip leaking, veins fat and full along its length.
She inhaled as he climbed onto the mattress, her body weight leaning into each dip his knees made as they pressed down. His wide, calloused hands gripped over her knees, pushing her thighs apart as he knelt between them. His cock slipped over her and he sucked in a breath, exhaling it slowly. His hips pushed down, then tilted in, and his cock pried between her lips and slid right in, she was so wet. Hazel gasped on the same breath he did, their eyes locking.
That was the only still moment between them. Their lovemaking turned as wild as it was the first night they were finally able to be together, their bodies stumbling to catch up to all the connecting their hearts had been doing. They were a mess of moans and grunts, of sweat-slick skin sliding on sweat-slick skin, of panted breaths and feverish kisses. Matt pushed up to his knees, hands gripping into her hips, and held her up as he thrust hard and fast, in and out of her, fucking her into her shoulders. Hazel moaned and arched toward his thrusts, opening her eyes to look up the stretch of her naked body to where he was sweating, tense and hungry over her.
Her eyes rolled back in her skull as he dipped his hips and pushed up, stroking a sensitive spot deep inside between her legs. It sent jolts down her thighs and her joints locked, stiff, toes curling in the air and fingers digging into the sheets. Her mouth stuttered on a gasp and hung, caught open. Matt grinned, just barely - doing so was an effort when he was pushing all his energy elsewhere - and the dark of his eyes seemed just a shade darker as he thrust harder, more pointed in that same way heâd gotten her a moment before. Over and over the head of his cock teased that sensitive little spot until she was careening, gasping on her cries, clamping her muscles tight and clenching her jaw in anticipation of- âMATT!â - the crash.
He came down with her, a boulder of uncontrolled muscle crashing in on her as his own body went rigid, balls likely sucked tight to the base of his cock as it pulsed inside her and her own orgasm grabbed it tight. He made a stuttered grunt that seemed like it was supposed to be her name, or maybe a warning, but his throat couldnât move enough to work words. She felt the warmth inside her as he came, the last ripples of her orgasm pulling at every last drop of him buried so deep inside her.
Matt lay almost an uncomfortable, still weight on top of her as the last of the pleasure ebbed away and their minds pulled from the fog. Their skin stuck, warm and sweaty, his breaths crowding over her. But Hazelâs body was too worn out, she couldnât be bothered enough to push him away. And some part of her enjoyed it, in a way, that she could finally have him so close that his physical weight might be uncomfortable. Every other night he was just a voice. Just a moving picture.
âSorry,â he murmured, breathing in an exhausted chuckle, arms shaking as he slowly peeled himself off of her.
âItâs okay,â she said in the same low tone, eyes sliding to meet hers once there was enough space for them to.
Carefully, still sensitive and half-hard, Matt slipped his cock from between her legs. He winced, just barely as the head slipped out, spent and slick with both their cum. He maneuvered to lay his body down beside her on the bed, exhaling a large breath. Hazel grinned and turned over, curling into him almost immediately as he lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at him as he tipped his bearded chin downward and met her eyes.
âI canât believe youâre here.â She was marveling, still. Theyâd rushed so quickly to be together, her mind had to catch itself back up.
âI missed you,â he said. His hand lifted so the tips of his fingers could smooth her frizzy hair, setting the pieces right that had stuck to her cheeks.
âI missed you, too.â She said. Her heartbeat hit a little harder, fear slipping into her veins at what she knew was showing brightly in her eyes that she tried so hard not to let go of. Vulnerability. Was he going to tell her heâd thought about what sheâd said, and maybe they should look into being together exclusively? (She tried to ignore that this time, she felt three emotions altogether, all equally as potent: excitement, fear, and hesitance)Â
Hazel waited for whatever he was going to say, but Matt didnât speak. He smoothed his hand back down her shoulder and smiled, then leaned his head back on the pillow. His eyelids drifted closed, long eyelashes gently brushing the tops of his cheeks. His breathing relaxed and he seemed to sink calmly into the mattress.
Then she realized no profound confession was going to come from him. This surprise visit of Mattâs was just a one-off thing. Hazel tried to tell herself she wasnât disappointed. He likely sensed like she did thereâd been something wrong between them and he came to put himself between her legs and fuck her until she lost her mind. Heâd curl his arm around her and tuck her into him like he was doing now and sheâd remember how warm and safe it felt.Â
But clearly he wasnât going to tell her why he had become so distant after she finished the barn.
Maybe that was for the best, Hazel thought as she laid her head against his chest and let herself close her eyes and enjoy that he was there and warm and real in her bed with her. And she let herself remember that his smell would linger for a day or two in her sheets to be there as she drifted off to sleep. She wasnât even sure she could commit to Matt, not after the connection sheâd felt with Adam earlier.
Adam.
Her eyes opened quickly. Sheâd forgotten all about telling Matt about Adam. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her gut. She was too much of a coward to tell him to his face, when heâd driven all the way over here to surprise her. Especially now, naked, muscles sore from their desperate lovemaking. Hazel moved slowly and shushed him when he grunted and cracked an eye open, assuring him she was just going to the restroom. As her feet hit the plush carpet and he dozed off again, she wondered how she could get angry at him for skirting around things hanging between them when she couldnât even show him the same courtesy.
**********
âMorning sleepyhead.â Matt whispered softly from where he was bent over her, standing on the other side of the bed, gently rubbing her shoulder. Hazel groaned, and something paper crinkled as he moved. âLook,â he beckoned, and she slowly pulled the comforter down to see a little bag with her store logo printed on it.
âRosie says good morning. I went and got us coffee and breakfast, come on.â He gently tapped her ass over the comforter she was wrapped in and she groaned in complaint, tucking back into her warm cocoon. He laughed. âCome on, you have coffee to drink, food to eat, and a horse to tell me about.â His voice was fading as he walked out of the room and down the hall.
A horse to tell him about.
Adamâs horse.
Adam.
Matt showing up on her doorstep.
Adam and Matt being friends.
The way she felt when she was with Adam.
The way she felt when she was with Matt.
One day she would look back and maybe realize this was the exact moment, at 7:06AM on an otherwise normal Monday morning, with her body sore from the long drive and horseback riding and phenomenal sex, that sheâd first made a connection that would become something paramount later on. But at present she was too tired and too worried about all that would go wrong to even consider what could be, let alone what couldnât be controlled.
Hazel slid out of bed, wearing her sleep shorts and baggy shirt sheâd tugged back on after getting ready for bed. She padded barefoot into the restroom, freshening up with only the amount of effort it took to splash her face, brush her teeth, and run a quick brush through her hair. She yawned as she turned away from her reflection and knew the warm cup of coffee would be a godsend this morning.
âThere she is,â Matt said warmly, and she looked over at him - he was in his usual around-the-house attire of a cotton t-shirt of one of the brands that sponsored him and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. Heâd swept his hair up into a bun, she remembered it down, jerking around his shoulders with each ram of his cock inside her. She licked her lips and set herself quickly down on the chair across from him, putting the reminder out of her head.
âMy body feels so beat up, I donât know how you travel like this and then perform every single week.â She complained as she wrapped her hands around the sleeve of the thermos heâd taken to get her coffee in.
âAw, itâs not so bad. Eventually you just figure your body is supposed to feel all of those aches. You just kind of forget what it was like when you werenât in pain.â He grinned as he lifted his coffee to his lips, winked and took a sip.
Hazel breathed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, taking her first sip of coffee and closing her eyes as she enjoyed how wonderful it was. She took another sip before the bag rustled and, looking, she saw Matt was opening it.
âRosie had just pulled some lemon poppyseed muffins out of the oven before I rolled up. I grabbed a couple.â He reached in and placed one on a napkin for her, sliding it toward her spot on the table. He grabbed another one for himself and set his phone aside, it looked like heâd been reading a news article. Matt saw her glance at it. âChecking how everyone did at the other rodeos this weekend.â He grinned and shrugged as he picked at the muffin wrapper, peeling it away. âTrying to estimate what our scores are at and how good Nick and I have to be this weekend.â
âIt never stops, huh?â Hazel said, but she didnât say it sadly. It was more like she was marveling. He just kept pushing himself toward that dream, toward proving to everyone that he was as good as he said he was. It was admirable, even if it got in the way of something she wanted. That dream was there before her, anyways.
âNope,â he said, and a sigh seemed to chase his words before he caught himself and plugged his mouth up with a chunk of baked goods. She did the same and he finally asked after he took a swig of coffee, âSo, come on. Tell me about the horse.â
Hazel laughed, and she sipped her coffee to stall time.
âFunnily enough, itâs Adamâs.â She said, and her eyes shot to him as she kept the cup near her lips. She wondered if heâd ever caught on to any of it that first night theyâd talked by the fire, when the energy between her and Adam had felt like it was practically shooting sparks.
âAdam?â He frowned and popped another bite into his mouth, chewing carefully. âAdam who?â
âPage.â
âOh!â He laughed, clearly surprised. Delighted, even. So, he didnât have any clue. âWhen did you find that out?â
âWhen I got there,â Hazel admitted. âI got so excited about going to see a horse I didnât even ask for the guyâs name before I showed up, and then it turned out to be him.â
âOf course, you could only think about the horse.â Matt was grinning. âWhich of his is it?â
âDaisy!â Hazel said it with excited breath, unable from sitting a little higher in her seat. It was easy to forget about Adam when she thought about the mare she might own soon.
âDaisyâs a beautiful little filly,â Matt said, frowning with thought. âThatâs the little gold one thatâs related to his mare Dolly, right?â
âYeah, full sisters.â
âThatâs right. Dolly is a sound horse. Last year at the NFR my horse hurt himself at the rodeo; he spooked when an attendantâs dog acted out and kicked, missed the dog and hit the trailer. It gashed up his leg and I didnât want to run him, even patching it up. Didnât want to take the risk. Adam always trailers in Dolly in case he decides to pick-up, and sheâs a solid little ranch mare even if sheâs not just for head roping. He let me ride her and Nick and I pulled second place when we otherwise would have had to drop out and severely hurt our rankings.â
âWow,â Hazel exhaled, both marveling at the mare and at Adamâs quick thinking to make sure his friends wouldnât miss their chances.
âYeah,â Matt nodded and took another swallow of coffee and bite of muffin before adding, âif that little mare is anything like her sister, youâre going to have yourself a damn good horse.â
Hazel grinned. âI really think sheâs something else. I havenât felt that way when Iâve gotten on a horse since my first horse, Shorty.â
âShorty?â Matt asked, smiling.
âHe was a horse that a friend of my stepfatherâs owned over at a dairy. He was the third horse I ever rode, a stocky little bay gelding with a little star on his forehead. He was playful and silly and would get a little pushy if I didnât mind him, so he taught me a lot. He was also the first horse I ever rode barrels on.â
âReally?â Matt asked, leaning his forearms on the table and watching her.
âYep! The dairy farmerâs daughter used to be a barrel racer, but she went off to college. Shorty was her horse. She came home for Christmas break and we went over for a little Christmas party and she asked me if I was the girl who was keeping Shorty company when she was gone. I was probably nine or ten at the time,â Hazel tilted her head, remembering that night well. âShe asked me if Iâd ever seen barrel racing and I said no, so she took me into her old room and showed me all the trophies and ribbons she and Shorty had won, and all the framed pictures she had. She taught me how to run the patterns that weekend and gave me books sheâd learned from too.â
âWow,â Matt said, smiling. âThatâs awesome.â
âIt really was! I felt that same connection to Daisy that I did when I used to ride Shorty.â
âYou know, I think that might be the first time youâve ever told me anything about your childhood.â He commented softly.
Hazel blinked. In truth, sheâd been so happy to talk about Daisy she hadnât even realized the story was tumbling out. She glanced down at her coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. âItâs not something I like to think about often.â
âI know,â he said. When she met his eyes, she saw they were warm and wanted to offer comfort. âCome on,â he broke the tension for her, and she was secretly grateful he didnât press, or keep the silence hanging long enough she felt she had to talk about it. She wasnât ready. âWe still need to go pick up the clowns-â Carson and Callahan â-and you need to show me that barn in person.â
Hazel smiled as she stood up, grabbing the thermos as he took up the empty muffin wrappers and slid the crumbs off the table, throwing them in the trash on their way back to the bedroom to shower and dress. He wrapped an arm around her as she passed him and forced a pause in their walk to place a quick, soft kiss against her temple. An extra touch of comfort. Hazelâs heart warmed as their eyes met, her smile softening.
Matt had stayed most of the day with her. When Hazel finally saw him off it was in the late afternoon, and they tried their best not to talk about how badly theyâd miss one another, though the words slipped out anyways. After she watched his truck back down her drive and take off down the road, Hazel loaded Carson and Callahan into her truck and went to relieve Rosie from managing the coffee shop.Â
The dogs were always welcome at the shop, though they mostly slept and played in the managerâs office, only occasionally coming out when beckoned by a customer who asked if they could pet them. Hazel loved having a place she could bring her pups along with her if she wanted and was always delighted when someone seemed genuinely enthused to play with them. Some customers brought their dogs by, too, and theyâd go out on the white-picket fence enclosed patio to play and have a little fun.
As she let Carson and Callahan inside and the little bell chimed as the door swung closed, she noticed a beautiful painting on the wall; a mountain landscape set in soft, lavender tones. âOh wow! Is that a new one?â
âIt is!â Rosie beamed, clearly happy Hazel had noticed.
âRosie, itâs gorgeous!â Hazel said, turning to appreciate her friendâs artistic talents. âYou really outdid yourself.â She stepped a little closer to it and smiled, looking at the little details that drew her eyes the longer she admired it.
âThank you sugar,â Rosie said with a wink and couldnât calm the width of her smile as she practically beamed under the compliment. âBut,â her expression turned a little more pointed as Hazel glanced over at her, âDonât think buttering me up is going to get you out of telling me what happened with Matt last night.â
Hazel laughed. âI wasnât trying to get out of it! But arenât you exhausted? Youâve been here since the crack of dawn and we didnât exactly get to bed early last night.â
Rosie waved her hand dismissively as the pair turned and made for the office. Two of their part-time staff members were on hand to help serve the steady flow of customers coming in and out for a little treat and something warm to drink in the steadily cooling late-fall weather. It gave them the perfect opportunity to slip into the office, closing the door behind them for privacy. Rosie waited until theyâd sat, offering Callahan a few scratches behind the ear as he walked over and plopped down in front of her, clearly expecting some love.
âI didnât tell him what happened with Adam.â Hazel exhaled in a rush, then groaned and shook her head. âI couldnât. Or, I didnât want to. I donât know. It was just so good to be with him again, you know?â
Rosie looked at her with sympathy. âI know, sweetheart. But letting it go on like this is just gonna lead to more heartache when things finally do come out. Adamâs still going to be bringing the horse, right?â
âYeah,â Hazel said, worrying at her bottom lip and shaking her head. She knew clinging to the excuse that they hadnât discussed anything was a cheap way out. She knew the right thing would have been to at least clue Matt into her having feelings for Adam, but she couldnât do it. âSo long as she passes her vet check, which I'm sure she will.â
Which meant Adam would be trailering her in. Which meant she would be alone with Adam. She knew she should feel guilty, not excited.
âHow long will that take?â
âA few days, maybe? It depends on when the vet can get out there and then when Adam has the time to drive her up.â
Rosie hummed under her breath and then smiled. âShe is really pretty.â
âIsnât she?â Hazel couldnât ignore how her heart lifted just to think of the little golden mare and how she couldnât wait to hopefully begin training her on the barrels.
Rosie asked a few more questions about the mare, and Hazel was all too happy to answer. It was much, much easier to gush about her potential new horse than it was to go in anxiety-ridden circles about the potential mess she was making between herself, Matt, and Adam. She went on about a barrel saddle sheâd had her eye on buying, light oil color with hand-painted floral details, turquoise and clear crystal embellishments. There was a matching headstall and breast collar to the entire set. Hazel pulled it up on her phone and passed it over, smiling as Rosie marveled at how pretty it was and how well the turquoise would look against Daisyâs golden coat.
It was exciting to talk about these things again. To think the mornings of tugging on her boots and making her way to the stall to feed were just on the horizon. Hazel could barely contain her excitement. All she needed now was to hear from Adam again, and she hoped it would be soon. Both because she wanted to know if she could really begin dreaming of everything she and her new little mare would do and because she could daydream about seeing him again.Â
Across from her, Rosie lifted her hand to cover a yawn. Hazel smiled sympathetically and clapped her palms against her thighs, pushing up to her feet.
âCome on,â Hazel said, reaching to pull Rosie up out of her chair. âYour friendship duties are officially over. I know youâre tired out of your mind, so Iâm sending you home.â She tugged her out of the office and stopped them in the middle of the shop, despite Rosieâs arguments that she wasnât that tired, and would be more than happy to keep on talking.
âGo on, get home safe.â Hazel nodded over Rosieâs shoulder to the door.
âAlright, alright,â Rosie said, conceding at last. âBut remember,â her tone brought Hazelâs eyes to meet hers. âIf you need me, Iâm always just a phone call away.â
Hazelâs lips curled upward as she reached to gently grasp Rosieâs hand. âThank you.â Rosie nodded and turned, waving and giving her goodbye to their staff working behind the counter and once she was gone, Hazel returned to the office to pick up where Rosieâs work had left off.
Two hours into spreadsheets and schedules and budgets that had her eyes wanting to cross, Hazelâs phone buzzed.
TEXT FROM: Adam
Daisy passed her vet check with flying colors.
Hazelâs brows shot up as excitement rushed through her. She couldnât grab her phone up to reply fast enough.
TEXT TO: Adam
Yay!!!!! I know youâre already helping me out by driving her up to mine since I donât have a trailer yet, but is it wrong of me to ask how soon youâre able to? Iâm just so eager to have her.
TEXT FROM: Adam
Not wrong at all. Iâm happy sheâs clearly going to a good home. If I could bring her up Friday and leave Dolly with her overnight, youâd be doing me a favor. I have a rodeo about seven hours further north of you on Saturday. I could drive six hours to yours, put Dolly up and thatâll give Daisy some company for the first night in a new place. Then Iâll just stay at a hotel and come back in the morning, load Dolly up and finish my drive to the rodeo.
Hazel read and reread the message. There was nothing wrong with him leaving Dolly overnight and she did like the idea that Daisy would have something and someone familiar on her first night at her new home. But she knew, before she even began typing the message, her reply was going to make it all kinds of wrong.
TEXT TO: Adam
Thatâs no problem at all! If you want to save money on a hotel, I have a guest bedroom. If it wouldnât be weird for you. I am still kind of with Matt.
TEXT FROM: Adam
Kind of with⌠but not dating, right?
Her pulse jumped, but her stomach turned. She sucked in a breath.
TEXT TO: Adam
YeahâŚ
TEXT FROM: Adam
Itâd help me out to not have to pay for a hotel room, so if it wouldnât be weird for you, Iâd appreciate the offer. Iâll keep my hands to myself, if thatâs what you want.
She didnât want that and they both knew it. With a sigh, she glanced over at Carson, who was stretched out on the dog bed in the office. He perked his ears at her as their eyes met.
âI donât know what Iâm doing either, bud.â She said and glanced back down at her phone.
TEXT TO: Adam
Guest bedroom it is. See you Friday.Â
She set her phone down and, elbows on the desk, leaned her face into her hands and closed her eyes. This wasnât fair to Matt. Beside her, Hazelâs phone buzzed. Another text message, probably from Adam. She cracked her eyes open and almost choked on a laugh. Speak of the devil.
TEXT FROM: MATT đ
Almost home! Just a few more hours. Call you when I get there?
She glanced at the time, and figured sheâd be just locking up and getting home when he was finally ready to call.
TEXT TO: MATT đ
Sounds great babe. Drive safe!Â
Another heavy exhale and she set her phone down, glancing back at Carson who was still watching her from where he was laying. He thumped his tail and Hazel smiled flatly.Â
âYouâre supposed to protect me from things that hurt me, you know that, right?â
He pulled up to his feet, tail wagging increasingly harder the closer to her got, sitting in front of her knees and pushing his head onto her lap. He looked up at her with big brown puppy dog eyes and Hazel sighed, shaking her head and scratching him behind his floppy, soft golden ears.
âYeah, yeah, I know. You canât protect me from myself. It isnât your fault.â
Hazel gave him a final little scratch behind the ears and gently pushed him from her lap, turning in the office chair to pick up work again. When sheâd done enough scheduling and inventorying and planning to make her want to rake her eyes out, she joined the staff working until closing and helped them behind the counter, checking in with townsfolk she was familiar with and thanking them for coming by. It was nicer than sitting alone in the office with only her thoughts to turn her around and around. Here, conversation stole her attention and left it with nothing to focus on but familiar faces and pleasantry.
The sky became pitch black as the night stretched ever closer, the sun having set a few hours prior. Hazel waved her employees goodnight and locked up, getting Carson and Callahan loaded into the backseat of her truckâs cab before climbing up into the driverâs seat. She was alone with only her thoughts again, but was quick to flip on the radio, deciding if she sang along to her favorite songs itâd be enough to preoccupy her on the drive home.
It was, of course, temporary.
Soon enough she was pulling into the driveway, killing the engine and glancing down at the time on her phone. Matt would likely be calling in just a few minutes. Hazel tucked her phone into her pocket and slid out of the truck, taking Callahan and Carson up to the front door and giving a quick smile over at the still-empty barn. She let her heart lift with excitement, thinking of that cute little golden mare whoâd occupy it soon enough.
As soon as sheâd lightly tossed her keys into the catch-all on the hallway table, her phone started to ring. When she pulled it out of her pocket, she was relieved to see it was a normal call and not FaceTime. She slid to answer and held it up to her ear.
âHey, babe.â
âHey you!â He sounded happy. Hazel bit at her bottom lip.
âHow was the drive home?â
âNot bad,â he groaned, and she heard a sound like heâd collapsed onto his bed, the sheets and mattress giving way beneath his weight. âMmm,â he murmured tiredly, âwish you were here though.â A sigh through his nose. âI wasnât ready to let you go after just one day.â
âI wasnât ready for you to, either.â A pinch of sadness weighed down her tone. Hazel didnât understand how she could feel how she felt about him, but also feel the way she felt about Adam both at the same time. It didnât seem fair. Or reasonable. She knew what it was like to be cheated on, and she didnât want to be the kind of person thatâd bring that sort of pain to someone she cared about. But again, she found herself confused and wondering⌠was it cheating if they werenât technically together?
âSorry,â he said, picking up on the long pause of silence between them. âI didnât mean to get mopey and be a downer on the conversation.â
âNo, no,â she slowly lowered onto the couch, peering off across the room but seeing none of it. She was picturing him, instead. âYou donât need to apologize.â She took a small pause. âHey, Matt?â
âHm?â
âCan I say something that might make the conversation even more of a downer?â Her chest felt tight.
âI⌠guess. Whatâs wrong?â His voice sounded sharper than it did before. Sheâd broken through the exhaustion of a long dayâs drive and now he was alert.
âI know we said we werenât going to talk about dating until after this rodeo season was over in December,â she started, âbut somethingâs changed and I just need to know if you really see us as exclusively dating - the real thing - after this season is done.â
âI⌠What do you mean, somethingâs changed? What changed?â
She could hear a touch of anger in his voice.
No, wait. Not anger.Â
Worry.
âMatt,â she sighed and closed her eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of her nose. âWhat happens next rodeo season?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, what happens if during the off-season you decide you have enough time to date, but then the rodeo season starts up again in the spring and you feel like you canât be around again?â
There was a long pause. Longer than normal.
âHazel, IâŚâ He trailed off. Every second of silence made her chest ache a little tighter and a little tighter. âI donât know.â
She exhaled and hated the way her eyes were stinging. âYou donât think we could do it? The long-distance thing?â
âWhatâs changed, Hazel? I was just there with you yesterday and everything was perfect. Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?â
âI met someone.â It was out of her mouth before she had a second chance to think. Before she could point out there shouldnât be any difference if they wanted to try dating now or a few months from now. The rodeo and their distance were always going to be there, so why not try and work through it now if thatâs what he really wanted?
âYou met someone.â He laughed, but there was no humor to it. Now she could hear a little bit of anger.
âMatt, nothingâs happened.â That was a lie. Hazel swallowed against her rising guilt. âI just want to know where we stand. I care about you, Matt.â
I love you, she wanted to say, but she was too terrified to say those three little words and then hear him tell her he didnât feel the same.
âI care about you too!â
âDo you?â The words practically leapt out of her, pushed by the pain she was feeling. âBecause if you cared about me, I donât see why you wouldnât want to just try dating, Matt. Weâre adults, we can figure out trips to see one another.âÂ
Suddenly this conversation was steamrolling into a fight.
âI already told you I donât have time to focus on a relationship the way Iâd want to. I donât want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.â
âYou already are.â Picking the rodeo over her or hurting her?Â
Hazel didnât specify.
The pause was long again. He exhaled a sharp breath, but still didnât speak. It stretched on a little longer.
âAre you going to say anything?â She asked, hearing how small her voice was.
âI donât know what to say.â
She swallowed back against the lump in her throat and tried her hardest to keep from crying but felt the slip of a tear down her cheek just a moment after. Careful to stay as quiet as possible so he wouldnât hear her crying, she reached for a tissue on the coffee table and carefully pressed it against her eyes, looking up at the ceiling and doing her best to not let any more fall or any shaking breaths leave her lips.
âWell,â she tried once she felt like she could get her voice. She could hear the faint roughness of emotion laid over it but tried to keep her tone level. âI guess I should go then.â
âHazel, we canât leave it like this. We canât hang up like this.â
She hated that she could hear the hurt in his voice. He was hurting her. Why wouldnât he answer her? Why wouldnât he try? Wouldnât it make sense, if they were going to date exclusively, to try during the most hectic time of the year to see if they had what it takes to get through the tough stuff? Didnât that just mean that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he didnât really want to be with her as much as he thought he did?
âI donât know what to say.â She echoed his words back to him, to hurt him too, but she didnât feel particularly good about it. It just hurt her more. She heard another breath rush out of his lungs.
He cursed under his breath. âHazel, I care about you, okay? I wouldnât have driven all that way to surprise you if I didnât.â
âI know,â Hazel closed her eyes tight, hoping thatâd continue to keep the tears at bay. âBut you donât want to date right now?â
âThe NFR is just two months away,â he said quietly. âCanât we just wait to talk about this until then? Maybe thereâll be a rodeo close enough for you to come out and stay the weekend with me? I think I have one this weekend thatâs about seven hours away from you.â
âIâd have to talk to Rosie and see if she could cover the shop for me,â she trailed off and then shook her head, remembering, âNo, wait. I canât. Iâm getting my horse on Friday.â
âOh⌠I think the other ones are all out-of-state. Wyoming and Montana until we head to Vegas for the NFR.â He paused and when he spoke next, she could tell he was trying to make his voice lighter, trying to patch them up and pull them away from that sad place theyâd been in. âBut hey! You didnât tell me your horse passed the vet check. Thatâs exciting!â
Her heart was too heavy to lift, even for that. It felt like a cheap way to distract her from what theyâd been talking about.
âYeah, it is.â She looked up at her ceiling. âI need to go... I have to be up early so I can open the shop.â
âOkay,â he said, but she heard the hesitation in the pause that followed. They still hadnât soothed what wounds theyâd both opened, and now neither of them knew how to. If they hung up, the sting would have no choice but to linger. âIâll text you tomorrow?â
âSure.â
âOkay.â
âOkay.â
âBye, Hazel.â
âBye, Matt.â
She pulled her phone slowly away, blinked at his name and the seconds trickling by the timestamp on their phone call. The screen blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She clicked the red circle to hang-up before they started to fall.
***********
A loud, long groan pushed with effort from his chest, barely muffled behind closed lips, his jaw clenched tight. His work-glove covered hands curled around the handles of the hay hooks buried at either side of the fifty-pound bale of alfalfa hay and he hoisted it upward, biceps bulging against his sun-tanned skin with the effort. He turned his body and swung the bale up onto the stack in his hay barn which heâd parked the trailer beside to unload.
The work kept him occupied and pushed the frustrations thatâd plagued him through a sleepless night. Some bales that he lifted, he practically screamed through, but it was only against the thoughts thatâd been circling endlessly around in his head and spreading an ache in his chest. He kept trying to shake it off. Each time he tugged the hay hooks from the bale and stabbed them aggressively into the next to be unloaded, he hoped some of that tension would ease out of his body. Maybe heâd exhaust himself enough that heâd just lay back right there on the scratchy hay and pass out and wouldnât be able to think anymore.
Sweat dripped down his temple and he paused, stretching upright with the hooks left in the bale, reaching to wipe it away with the back of his hand before it hit his eyes. His other hand swiped the black cowboy hat from his head and he fanned himself briefly with the brim, stirring the few wisps of brown hair thatâd untucked from his low bun as he worked. He realized it felt loose and dropped his hat onto the hay bale, reaching up to secure it again. His arms burned with a familiar, comfortable ache and he knew heâd have no hope but to fall into a deep sleep tonight.
âI thought you were going to wait until I was over to unload!â Nickâs familiar voice called up from a short distance away, and Matt dropped his hands slow, reaching to pick up his hat and wiping the little flakes of alfalfa thatâd stuck to it. He stuck it low on his brow before he turned to look at his brother, whoâd now reached the flatbed and was peering up at him with a frown, long fingers pinching his narrow hips.
âI needed to do something.â He said, voice strained as he realized how thirsty he was. He tugged off his gloves, hands warm, and tossed them gently onto the next hay bale he was supposed to move.
Nickâs frown deepened. He turned to where Matt had left his bottle of water and chucked it underhand up to him. âWhatâs going on?â
Matt twisted the cap off and looked over at his younger brother, pushing a sigh out of his nose and dropping his shoulders. âI fucked things up with Hazel.â He tipped the bottle back and took a swallow, using it as an opportunity to avoid meeting Nickâs eyes.
âWhat? How?â
âI donât know,â he sighed and licked the residue water from his lips. That was a lie, he did know. He also knew that all he had to do was tell Nick the conversation verbatim, and Nick would know too.
Nick didnât press or say anything. He pushed up on the flatbed trailer, where there was space for his boots to firmly land on the secured wood-beams that made the bed. Matt had already managed to clear a decent amount of bales on his own, but he was feeling the exhaustion at having overexerted himself because of it.
Another sigh.
âShe met someone else, Nick.â
Nickâs brows lifted. He tugged his gloves from the back pocket of his Wranglers and pulled them onto his hands, stepping into Mattâs space as Matt took a few steps to the side. Setting the bottle of water aside he reached for his gloves, tugging them on as he considered what happened on the phone with Hazel the night prior.
As Nick grabbed the handle of the hook on the left side, Matt grabbed the right. They maneuvered the bale onto the pile being stacked in the hay storage and when Matt tugged the hook free, he spoke.
âShe told me something had changed, and then asked me what happens next rodeo season.â He blinked, a frown pushing his dark brows together. His arm swung as he buried the metal hook into the next bale. âI-âa grunt broke between his words â-asked her what had changed and she told me she met someone.â He tried to say it as if it didnât tap on one of those very fears thatâd worried him about them dating.
âSo she doesnât want to talk anymore?â Nick asked, hoisting his side up as Matt followed suit and they stacked the next bale.
âNo,â Matt shook his head. âShe didnât say that. But we gotâŚâ he glanced down at the toes of his boots, gaze distant as he remembered lying on his bed, heart pounding so fast and hard in his chest he felt sick, fingers curled so tight around his phone they ached and his knuckles were white.
I donât want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.
You already are.
His eyes rolled up to the sky as he tipped his head back. A dry laugh left him on an exhale, but there was no humor in it. âWe got into a fight. A real one.â His head tipped back forward and his eyes slid to Nickâs. âI canât remember the last time I was with a girl long enough to have fought with her.â
âGirls yell at you all the time,â Nick said, swinging the curved hook into his side of the bale.
A grin curled the edge of Mattâs mouth beneath his mustache. âShut up,â he said half-heartedly, stabbing his hook into the hay and hoisting the weight upward as Nick did too. Once theyâd swung the bale onto the stack and released the hooks, Matt shrugged. âThat doesnât count. Thatâs them yelling at me about how Iâm a no-good scoundrel whoâs only love is rodeo gold, thatâs not us fighting.â
âYouâve never stuck around long enough to fight with them.â Nick said it casually, but Matt felt himself tense.
âYeah, well, I donât have time for this bullshit.â He spat it out with a little more venom than heâd intended, gesturing vaguely. âMy focus has always been on our career, and thatâs no different now. Where am I supposed to fit a relationship in with a woman who lives a whole dayâs drive away?â
Matt stabbed the hook into his bale, but Nick didnât do his. Straightening upright, Matt looked at his brother and saw Nick was watching him with an almost sympathetic look across his face. Matt hated how much it cut through him, how it immediately tugged away the anger that was keeping him safe from feeling how hurt he was. His eyes dropped away from Nickâs.
âYou sort of already are, Matt.â
Matt glanced up and saw Nick was still steadily watching him. For all of Mattâs anxious ticks and nervous energy, Nick was calm and still, far more collected of the two. Nick pulled his glove off and scratched at the light scruff on his chin as his brows pinched inward and he narrowed his eyes in thought.
âCome to think of it, I canât remember the last time Iâve seen you play your normal games with the rodeo girls.â Nickâs eyes slid to Matt and his brows lifted beneath the brim of his baseball cap, pushing the brim just slightly up his forehead. âI think the last time was when you met her.â
Matt shrugged and turned away, as though that would hide what having those truths laid out bare in front of him made him feel, and how scared he was to feel those feelings. âCome on,â he said, encouraging Nick to put his work gloves back on and help hoist the hay. âShe already met someone else. It was only a matter of time anyways. She deserves someone whoâs going to be there for her more than I can be. Who isnât going to hurt her like I have.â
Nick was slow to put his glove on, but didnât talk until heâd picked his hook back up and secured it into the bale. âFor all weâve known each other - and it has been quite some time,â he pushed through gritted teeth as they hoisted the hay up onto the stack and tugged his hook free, âIâve never known you to be a quitter. Especially if itâs not something your heart wants.â
**********
âOkay, I donât think sheâs paying attention to us.â
âNo, I donât think she is. She hasnât looked over since we said her name an entire minute ago.â
âSo we could say whatever we want about her and she wouldnât hear it?â
âProbably.â A little snickering followed, but just like the question Andrea had asked her a moment ago, Hazel heard none of it. Her foot was bouncing beside the chair as her eyes pinned to the semi-busy afternoon crowds down main street outside herâs and Rosieâs coffee shop. She was sitting at one of the window seats, across from her was Rosie and Andrea, as the three girls had a little get-together one of the few nights Andrea had a chance to leave her siblings behind and had no shift at either of the jobs she worked.
Theyâd caught up on what had happened between Hazel and Matt and the fact that she hadnât heard from him since their fight on Monday. She hadnât tried to text or call him back, and he hadnât tried to text or call her.
âDoes this mean you guys are over?â Andrea had asked, frowning.
âI donât know. Maybe?â Hazel didnât want to say yes, though thatâs certainly what it felt like.
âHey! Hazel! Hello!â Andreaâs voice was suddenly loud, and it made her jump as her wide-eyes swung back to find her friends staring at her with matching grins.
âSorry,â she said, âdid you ask me something?â
âYeah, about five minutes ago!â
âSorry!â Hazel laughed and shook her head.
âItâs okay,â Rosie laughed, âwe know you canât think of anything but Daisy.â
Adam would be sending her a message as soon as he was an hour outside town. It would give her time to leave the shop, drive home and do another check to make sure everything was ready for the mare. Or, mares, since Dolly would be staying the night too. As would her handler.
Hazel was trying not to think about that too much, along with making the egregious mistake of assuming she could be reasonable and keep her hands off of him and stay in her room and not do anything to further complicate her love life. Instead, she was putting all her focus and attention on the arrival of her new horse. It wasnât too hard to do, given how excited she was about being a horse owner again, and how much she couldnât wait to run Daisy on the barrels. It was like a piece of her had reawoken, something that she thought sheâd lost long, long ago.
âI canât wait,â Hazel confessed, looking between her friends and beaming. âI canât wait for you to meet her Andrea, sheâs an absolute sweetheart.â
âShe really is,â Rosie agreed.
âDonât be surprised if Grace starts asking for a sleepover at Auntie Hazelâs,â Andrea said. Grace was her youngest sibling at seven years-old, and the only girl. âSheâs in that horse-crazy phase of her young girl years.â
âAh,â Hazel said, nodding, âa phase I know all too well. Some of us never grow out of it.â Their light laughter was broken by Hazelâs phone chiming and lighting up where it sat on the table in front of her. She squealed to see Adamâs name and was quick to open his message. âLooks like itâs time for me to head home and check everything over.â She said, smiling back up at her friends.
âAdamâs close?â Rosie asked.
âYep,â Hazel pushed the chair back as she stood, âIâll send you guys some videos of her settling in!âÂ
The girls said their goodbyes and Hazel rounded up Carson and Callahan, loading them in her truck before she headed for home. She couldnât get there fast enough, even knowing Adam was still an entire hour out. Her giddiness made her realize twice she was speeding, and sheâd exhale with a laugh as she eased the foot off the pedal and slowed her truck down. She felt like a kid at Christmas, all the excitement inside her pouring out in what felt like a permanent smile thatâd been on her face all day.
The following hour passed surprisingly quickly as she did a check around the barn and turnout paddocks, filled two stalls with a little over a foot of soft sawdust flakes, and got the water buckets filled before flipping the automatic fill nozzles on. Hazel had just swung the back door toward the turnout paddock open when she heard the rumble of the truckâs engine and glanced to see Adam pulling his horse trailer up the drive.
Wiping her hands on her jeans she darted out of the barn and half-jogged to where he slowly pulled the truck to a stop.Â
âHey!â She called as he climbed out of the cab.
âHello again,â he said warmly, and opened his arms to envelope her in a friendly hug. Hazel didnât hesitate, and something in her softened to have his arms around her and his scent - whatever shampoo and conditioner he used, horses, leather, and the faint spearmint from the gum heâd been chewing - in her nose, her lungs as she dragged a deep enough breath for it. He mustâve sensed something, because as she snuggled in close, Adamâs hands flattened on her back, holding her closer into his front.Â
Hazel buried her face against him, and let the pain sheâd been feeling that past week slip away, second by second that he held her. His arms shifted, he pulled her back just enough to lift his thick fingers to her chin, guiding it up so their eyes could meet. The way concern looked on his face made her heart ache.
âYou alright?â He asked, his green eyes jumping between hers.
âYeah,â she exhaled and nodded. âIâm okay.âÂ
The hand thatâd been holding her chin reached to cup her cheek. His thumb skimmed across her skin. âAlright.â He said. He wouldnât press, wouldnât make her tell him why sheâd needed to hold him so tightly.Â
âWant to introduce your girl to her new home?â He tilted his head toward the trailer, blond curls gently shifting with the movement.
âYes!â She practically jumped in his arms and was only remiss for a second when their embrace broke.
As Adam went to unhitch the back of the trailer, Hazel popped the side door, speaking softly to the golden mares as she stepped inside the trailer. She ran a gentle hand along Daisyâs haunches and down her spin, shifting between them to where her lead was securely knotted. Quick work undid the nylon and Hazel gently turned her, leading her out of the trailer. âWelcome home, Daisy,â she said as they walked down the ramp and onto the gravel driveway outside.
Daisy lifted her nose in the air, nostrils flaring as she sucked in deep, fresh breaths of all the new smells. She jerked her head lightly on the lead - not enough to disturb Hazelâs grasp, though it tightened all the same - and looked around, ears pointing forward, attentive. Hazel smiled and rubbed her free hand down Daisyâs warm, strong neck. âWhat do you see, girl?â She asked her, starting to walk, Daisy more than happy to fall in step with her.
As Hazel showed her around the yard, Adam unloaded Dolly, who was clearly happy to be able to uncramp her legs from the trailer.
âLetâs turn them out in the arena,â Hazel suggested, nodding toward it. âThey can stretch their legs and get some energy out.â She could tell when Daisy had turned and seen her sister that her excitement had mounted and the clips of her hooves hit a little more rapidly as she swung her hips, moving restlessly. Itâd be good to let them burn this off.
Adam nodded and started toward the arena, Dolly glancing around as he led her toward the gate. Hazel followed in tow with Daisy, who seemed confident and happy following her older sister. Adam popped the latch and pushed it open on the hinge, walking Dolly in a few steps over the soft sand-dirt blend arena. He reached up to unclip her lead as Hazel led Daisy in behind them, reaching to do the same before Daisy could get too excited about her sister already trotting a few paces out. The lead unclipped, Daisy tossed her head and pulled her legs up in a high-knee trot, cream-white tail flagging out behind her muscled haunches.
Adam joined Hazel, standing side by side with her as they both held their horseâs respective leads, smiling and watching the mares in the arena.
As Daisy approached Dolly, Dolly lifted her head and kicked out her heels playfully, picking up the pace to egg her younger sister into a chase. The two uncramped their muscles from the six-hour long travel in the trailer, and worked through their energy at being in a completely new place with new smells. Dolly was used to traveling and her confident nature would help ease Daisy into this place too, making it more something to be intrigued by than fearful of. It was a good thing Adam had a rodeo and needed to bring Dolly, too. Hazel watched both golden mares stop at the other end of the arena and glance out toward the foothills, side by side as they pointed their ears over the fence and listened to whatever caught their attention.
âShe looks right at home here,â Adam said, and it drew Hazelâs eyes toward him.
âShe does.â She agreed with a smile.
âWant to give these girls a break? Show me around your barn?â He offered.
âSure,â Hazel agreed with a smile, and turned to walk back toward the arena gate theyâd gently closed after releasing the mares. They hung the leads on the fencepost, since they wouldnât need them until they were ready to put the mareâs up for the night, and exited. Adam latched the arena gate and waved a hand at Dolly and Daisy, whoâd glanced over to curiously watch them make their exit.
âItâs definitely nowhere near as fancy as yours,â she started, not wanting his expectations through the roof as she led him across the yard toward it.
âWell, youâre also not a multi-year bronc bustinâ rodeo champion with a ranch horse breeding business on the side.â
âFair point,â she laughed as he raised his brows and fixed her with a pointed, green-eyed stare. He grinned shortly after, and her eyes lingered over how handsome happiness looked on him. It made his cheeks perfectly round and pinchable, with a brightness in his green eyes that nearly made them shine blue.
They reached the little three stall barn and Hazel tried to temper her smile as she walked him around, showed him the stalls and their swing out doors to the small turn-outs, the little tack room that doubled as a feed room and an all-purpose room, too. No wide wash-stalls with cross-ties here. It was a humble little stable but, like Adam said, it wasnât like she was raising a whole herd of horses or in the business of it, no matter how much sheâd love to be.
Still, Hazel was proud of it. She had built the frame with her own two hands, even if a company had finished it, furnished it and given it some pretty little upgrades she might not have put the time into herself.Â
âI like it,â he said, his nod shifting the blond curls resting on his broad, muscled shoulders.
âYeah?â She asked, smiling up at him.
âYeah! I can see itâs new, no little dents from the day-to-day, can still smell the fresh paint, everything is shiny and unlived in but, it feels likeâŚâ he paused, âfeels like itâll be a home. Itâs warm; it has heart.â
Hazel laughed softly.
âWhat?â He asked.
âSometimes I feel like youâve got a poetâs soul, cowboy.â
âAw,â he grunted, and she was pleased to see just a little bit of red in his cheeks as he smiled. âI normally donât talk this much to people.â He said, then sighed. âWell, I do. I can talk my way into looking comfortable in any size crowd so well, people will think I must be a natural. Truth is, most of the time Iâm around people, Iâm terrified as hell. What if I say the wrong thing? Is it wrong that I really donât care that Kennyâs playing a new video game? Am I acting like I do enough so I donât come off rude as he talks to me about it? Am I maybe being a little spoiled, not wanting to talk to my friend about something he likes or is it okay that I donât want to? Am I a good person?â He rattled off the questions with a good-humored exaggeration of his worried persona until she was biting down hard into her smile as he did.Â
Hazel shook her head and reached out to touch his forearm. He brought his eyes to hers, and his posture relaxed. One of his free hands reached up to cup her face.
âBut with you, I feel like I can say exactly what I want to say, and I want you to accept and understand me so bad, and then you do. Or you say something Iâve been thinking, but havenât managed to put together to make sense of it yet. You justâŚâ he exhaled, and she felt the warmth of it over her lips. Heâd sank down closer to her, as if every word pulled them in like magnets. âYou scare me, Hazel, but you make me feel more like me than Iâve ever been comfortable with before.âÂ
And their lips met, her answer a muffled whine, sweet and heartfelt against his tongue. He inhaled sharp, and his hand slipped from her face to pinch into her waist, his other hand flanking her other side. He squeezed hard, harder than heâd meant to as a muscle jumped in his blond hair-dusted forearms and his hold relaxed, just a little. His thick, tall body bullied her back to the wall where she went willingly, just like before.
Her back flattened and his body was quick to push warm and needy against her front. A perfectly placed knee guided her legs apart so he could shuffle in a step closer, pushing the bulge growing between her legs against her thigh. They fell into where they were a week ago in his barn as if no time had passed or location had changed. Adamâs hand pushed up her shirt, calloused hands grazing her soft tummy as they moved upward. His greedy fingers slipped under her bra until they found her left nipple, squeezing it and giving it a slight pull - just enough to make her moan into his mouth and his grin to smear across their kiss.
Hazel pulled her head away to look at him and saw how dark his eyes were. He almost looked like a man possessed, so hungry for her, with so many emotions flooding the surface. She could feel nothing but loved beneath a gaze like that, and with how low her heart had been all week, it was more than she could ask for.
Adam released her left nipple and slipped to cup her right breast instead, wiggling to offer it the same treatment, pushing his mouth hot against hers to muffle another little yelp of pleasure-pain that pulled from her throat when he pinched it. Her hips moved restlessly against him, rubbing his growing, jean-clad cock on her thigh and herself on his sturdy, large thigh. It shoved the stitching of her jeans against her thin little panties, and she gasped shakily when their mouths moved apart.
âFuck,â he groaned, pulling away to get a good look down at her. His eyes jumped over her face and he smiled, almost in wonder. âCâmere, I want to see you.â His voice husky, gentle. Adam took his fingers out from where he was stretching the elastic of her bra and out of her shirt, pinching the hem instead. He slipped it up her body, eyes meeting hers to make sure it was what she wanted.
Hazel didnât hesitate. With their eyes locked, she took her shirt from his grasp and ripped it quickly over her head. When his eyes fell greedy to her cleavage she wasted no time twisting an arm behind her back, grasping her braâs clasp and twisting to pop it free. Adamâs eyes jumped to hers, then back down as she peeled the material away and dropped it at his feet in the barn aisle next to her shirt.
âGod damn, Hazel,â he whispered in a hot breath as one hand lifted to lightly hold the weight of her bare breast, his eyes falling from hers, to it. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her teased hard, sensitive nipple and she inhaled a sharp breath. His head of golden curls bent so his mouth could engulf her breast and the flat of his wide tongue could flick back and forth across her little pink nipple.
Hazel bent her head back, eyes on the wood-beams above. Adamâs warm mouth worshipped one breast, then moved to the other to offer it the same treatment. His fingers crawled down to her jeans and tested the loops before turning in toward the button. He slipped it free then lifted his head, and his eyes - dark with need - met hers. The brief moment of pause in the chaos. The one chance to say âAre you sure?â without actually saying the words. As if there was any chance sheâd want to go back now. As if there was any chance they could rein in the coming storm their passion felt like it would be.
She nodded, just barely, and a grin curved Adamâs mouth. The zipper of her jeans tugged down with a loud, quick zip, but before he could tug them down, she was prying at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up his thick, warm torso.
âFairâs fair,â she said as he bent in and tasted the skin of her neck. âIâm shirtless, so you have to be too.â
She could feel his grin against her skin, and he was still smiling as he took his thick fingers off her jeans and stepped back just enough to have the room to strip. âDidnât realize we had rules,â he teased as he pulled the material up his body and let it fall carelessly to the floor beside them. Hazelâs eyes swept down his handsome face to that broad chest, down the subtle curve of his belly where just an inch of fat hung over his tooled leather belt, and the big, shiny buckle bit into it.
âI like my rule,â she said, reaching to put her hands on his biceps and sliding them up his shoulders.Â
âI didnât say it was a bad rule,â he leaned in to put his mouth in the hollow dip of her neck and taste the skin down to her collar bone. His short beard scratched at her as his kisses turned a little more feverish, and his fingers once again wiggled their way toward her jeans.
This time Hazel didnât stop him and after only a brief hesitation he tugged the stiff material of her jeans down her hips and thighs, kneeling in front of her and helping her out of her boots. A shiver ran over her body - nearly nude spare her thin, teal panties - as he straightened over her.
âCold?â He asked in a low voice, and crowded his warm body closer. One of his hands framed her face, his fingertips tracing her jaw. He brought her eyes up to his and gently ran the flat of his thumb over the shape of her lips.
âNo,â she whispered as he pulled his hand away. âI just feel⌠exposed.â
He paused for a minute, glancing over his shoulder toward the open end of the small stable, then back at her. âItâs just us, darlinâ.â
âI know, but itâs been a long time since I was in a barn with a cowboy, naked and about to be fucked up against the wall.âÂ
Adam grinned. âWould it make you feel better if I was just as naked as you?â
âAbsolutely.â The word was out of her mouth before she even had time to playfully pretend to think about it. Her eagerness made his grin spread, and he nodded his head before he stepped back and his thumb played at his belt. Her eyes fell down to it just as he tugged itâs clasp free, then left the belt open and dangling as he went for the button on his jeans. Hazel saw it then - the lump thatâd grown along his thigh in his Wranglers - and sucked in a sharp breath as he undid the button and tugged the zipper down. He groaned in relief as he released the pressure from his filling cock, and her eyes jerked up to his face to see the way that relief looked there.
Adamâs eyes rolled forward and he pushed his jeans down, one hand flattening on the wall by her head to balance his body as he stepped out of his jeans and boots. He was left looking down at her, his chest rising and falling, green eyes so dark they were nearly black as they pooled over her face. She wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers was. Surely it was.
His body shifted as he lowered before her, his palms skimming the shape of her body as he knelt. He tilted his head back, gold curls spilling over his broad back, and looked up at her as she tipped her chin to her chest to look down at him. His hands slipped around her hips and into the fat of her ass, squeezing and pushing her toward his face. It brought his Roman nose against her pantyline, and he pushed it harder, exhaling a warm breath over the thin material before he kissed it over her clit. Shivers ran through her body again. Her hands landed on his firm shoulders.
Adam pressed his mouth more firmly against her panties, his tongue testing the material, teasing them as he pushed it between her lips but didnât give either of them the satisfaction of actually tasting her. The tip swirled around her clit, inspiring more shivers down her thighs. She stuttered on a gasp as she leaned her head back and pushed her hips a little more eagerly toward him. As his mouth teased them both by tasting her through her panties, his fingers released the fat of her ass heâd gripped hard into (likely leaving prints of his hand in her skin) and crawled up toward the elastic of her panties. They curled and he slid them down, pulling his head back enough to pull them free, and she could fill his heavy, thick warm breath against her bare skin.
He leaned in slowly, and that warmth filled more and more of the crevices between her legs and then, languid, he pressed and slipped his tongue from the bottom of her pussy lips to the top, then swirled around and teased her clit. Hazel half-moaned, half-whined as her eyes rolled back and her hips pushed eagerly forward. Adamâs calloused palms slipped back to her ass and held her against his mouth as his feasting became more fervent. His tongue plunged between her folds, his lips latched to her sensitive, raised clit. His fingers gripped, released, and regripped the fat of her ass, pressing the prints of his hands in her skin. He released her clit only for the clever tip of his tongue to flick it back and forth in short, quick strokes, enough to make her take quicker, sharper breaths and release louder, needier moans. Her thighs trembled and he groaned against her pussy, vibrating where she was sensitive and a wet mess of cum and saliva. He held her even more firmly against his mouth and her eyes rolled back, lips hanging open but no sound coming out as she held her breath and reached the inevitable edgeâŚ
His tongue slipped off her clit and he pulled back. The air was cold against her pussy. Hazel released a shaking, confused breath and dropped her chin, eyes looking down as he looked up, kneeling between her legs. One of his blond brows was arched, lines wrinkling his forehead. He had a lazy grin, and she nearly felt dizzy when she saw how wet his lips and the beard around them was.
âOh no, darlin,â he murmured, his voice husky and low as he slowly rose to be that warm shadow over her. âThe first time I get you to cum,â his fingers were on her arms, gripping and rubbing up before dipping in and fondling her breasts. His thumbs swiped her raised, needy nipples, âmy cock is going to be inside you.â He leaned and pushed his mouth against hers and as their tongues tangled, she tasted herself on him. As he broke their kiss and leaned in to leave a trail along her jaw, his nose in her hair and breath on her ear, he whispered, âI just needed to taste you first.â
One of his hands stayed on her hips, the other reached to shove his boxer-briefs down his hairy thighs. She felt his cock tap her thigh as it sprang free, but didnât have much time to reflect on how long or thick itâd felt, or even glance down between their bodies to peek. Adam was already shuffling in and, gripping his arms underneath her ass, lifting her up off her feet. Hazel squealed in surprise, her legs forced around his hips as he bullied her back against the wall and used it for further support. She could feel the strength in his biceps as her hands landed on their curve, the muscle tense underneath. Her eyes flew to his and the moment their pupils locked, he slid her down smooth and wet on his cock.
A low moan crawled slowly out of his mouth, pushed inch by inch the more of his cock he sank inside her. Hazel held her breath, feeling the way his girth stretched her, until she was sat sac-deep on top of him. âAdam,â she whined, their gaze had broken when his eyes rolled back in pleasure and they snapped forward - black, not green - and met hers.
âGod, Hazel,â his words were tight, his breath stuttered. He readjusted the grip on her body and lifted her up, then sank her back down. His hips pushed in as he carefully lowered her on top of him, enjoying each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back as he shuddered.
Hazelâs hands slid up his arms and around his neck, helping him as his hands gripped the back of her thighs. It was getting harder with sweat smearing over their skin and sticking them together. Her legs jerked with every thrust as they started to grow in speed at an almost reckless pace. He poured moans into her ear, pressing hot breaths into her hair. Those dirty sounds lifted into the tall beam ceiling of the stable and poured out of the open doors at the end of the walkway.
He pressed a kiss against her temple and then stilled, cock buried to the sac inside her. Hazel groaned - God, the way his thick girth stretched her - and rolled her eyes forward, chest heaving with the deep breaths she had to take.Â
âIâm going to move us, alright?â He asked in her ear between heavy gasps of his own that stirred her hair.
Hazel nodded, and held a little tighter around his neck, pulling her body toward his as he grunted and moved her off the support of the wall. His cock slipped out of her in the shuffle and she squeezed, instinctively, missing the feeling of him filling her. Using his strong grip, with her legs hanging over his hips, he turned her toward the stalls, moving for the half-door that was still hanging open. It was the last stall sheâd bedded down with over a foot of soft, fresh sawdust bedding, and thatâs what he slowly lowered her down into, following on his knees. Hazel was amazed at his strength and control, her hands sliding from around his neck and palms pressing down the muscles in his arms.
Adam threw a shadow over her, smiling a lop-sided grin as he pressed his hips toward hers and pried her pussy lips apart with the head of his cock. With a grunt he slid down and pushed in, stretching her around him without enough time passed to grant either of them any sort of sanity. This is where they were now, making love in the stable, only the two of them and no one there to interrupt.
Their eyes locked for a few intimate strokes, her kiss-swollen lips stuck open, with soft little cries falling out of them each time he shoved the head of his cock deep inside her. Leaning down over her, Adam put his weight in one forearm, freeing the other hand to chase down their bodies. His fingers found that already teased little red button and twitched across it as he continued to fill her with his cock. Whether he meant to sync the strokes of his fingers with that of his cock or not, he was soon driving her wild, making her press her head into the give of the stall bedding and her fingers to grab a tight hold on him, wherever she could grab.
âOh, God, Adam!â she managed to get out between sharp inhales, her brow knitting tight together as the pressure built nearly unbearably high inside her. She was so close...
âMmmHazel,â he groaned near her ear, pleasure undeniable in his stuck-together words. A low breath and then he exhaled a gentle command, âCum for me, darlinâ.â
Another circle of his fingers over her clit, a quick shove in of his cock, and a surprised cry was all that could fly out of her lips before her eyes were rolling and stars burst behind them. Her thighs trembled and clapped his, pressed up under her as they were. Her muscles pulled tight on him, her little cries and the way her fingernails bit into his shoulders more and more evidence to the way heâd driven her wild.
A gentleman, he slowed his thrusts through her pulses, gently rocking with each and clenching his jaw, clearly straining to keep himself from losing it inside her. He slowly pulled his fingers away from her sensitive little button and buried his hand into the gentle give of the sawdust by her head. Hazelâs eyes opened up dazedly on the golden curly haired cowboy above her, and saw his slow, proud smile crawl across his lips. If she wasnât so out of it, she mightâve grabbed a handful of sawdust to chuck at him for how confident and cocky he looked right then.
âJesus it took everything not to cum with you,â he murmured, his hips pulling back, then pressing in and starting to slowly fuck her again as he bent and pushed his lips against hers.
âWhy didnât you?â She barely had a voice when their mouths broke apart.
âIâve been dreaming about being inside you-â he paused to groan as a particular slow stroke of his cock pressing deep inside her felt good â-for months now. Call me greedy, but,â another kiss, and he breathed the last of his words tight across her mouth as he slowly pulled his hips back, âI wanted a little bit more.â
Despite her entire body feeling like it was made out of jelly, Hazel had to agree. She wasnât ready for their lovemaking to be over, either. Even if she didnât know how she was even going to manage to stand once they were finally through. Adam readjusted himself, pushing his weight into his hands so he could sit upright between her legs. His palms settled on her wide hips and pinched, pulling her slowly, inch-by-inch off his girth, then tugging her back up. Hazel appreciated the new position, able to look up her naked body at Adam sweating, straining, and grunting as he pulled her up and down his cock. Every thrust made her breasts jerk and she watched his hungry eyes jump from where they were joined, watching his cock buried inside her, to her breasts instead and appreciate how each quick thrust made them move.
One of his hands left her hip and flattened on her soft midsection, thumb settling over her clit. As he circled it, Hazel groaned. She wasnât sure she could get worked up enough for another orgasm so soon, that last one had been so strong. âAdamâŚâ
That lop-sided grin barely tugged across his mouth again and his thumb left her alone just enough to gently press into her wet, just barely able to wiggle in there with his cock already stretching her. She moaned and he pulled it out quick, returning to her already teased clit. He swept her wet over it, teasing her as he started pounding his cock a little harder and a little faster into her. This time the stroking didnât match the driving of his hips, but even when she would have sworn he must be close to cumming, he held off, instead continuing to tease her and draw her toward yet another orgasm. Hazel could do absolutely nothing to keep the dam from breaking.
âAdam!â She cried out and jerked over him, her skin slapping his.Â
He grunted, still plunging in and out of her, tearing his hand away from her clit. Adam fell back over her, driving his cock inside her in quick, fast thrusts. Only a few inches were pulled out before he was shoved back in, all while she cried and came and twitched, eyes rolled back. She was too sensitive through her orgasm for his fast fucking, and it was just making her cum harder. He grunted, shoved himself sac-deep inside her, and then stilled to stone.Â
It didnât and couldnât matter the way he had her scrunched and fucked into the layers of sawdust - they were both happy victims to their muscles seizing in their body and electricity rushing through their nerves. Hazel felt the warmth of his cum shooting hard up into her enough to make her cry out when it did. He flooded her cunt, filled her up, and then was a shuddering, almost too-warm weight above her just barely leaning off from crushing her underneath him as they caught their breath.
The last few minutes of their fucking had been so fast-paced, lost in her orgasm, that Hazelâs mind took a few minutes to catch back up. It seemed he did too.Â
âThat wasâŚâ he sighed, blinked and let his green eyes find her face. One of his hands reached up to delicately pluck the sawdust out of her hair, then pushed the lock from where itâd stuck to her face with sweat. His calloused palm fell to gently holding her cheek and Hazel smiled tiredly up at him. She felt at peace. Adam leaned down and softly laid a kiss against her forehead, then slowly one on each cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. He didnât deepen their kiss, but let it linger in a way that cherished the touch. Only when he broke away from her mouth and their eyes met did he finish the sentence heâd started a little bit ago. âAmazing.â
âMhmm,â she murmured agreement and leaned up to steal another short kiss, still not able to have enough of him. When their lips broke he sank down, a warmth atop her, and they relaxed again in their joined company for a few quiet minutes. Her fingers traced random circles on his shoulder blades, and he was careful where to lay his weight so he didnât smother her. He kissed her temple, and gently breathed against her ear. In the distance they heard one of the horses snort.
âWe should probably get up and go shower,â he suggested, but didnât bother moving his body off of her or even pull his slowly wilting cock from where it was still lodged between her legs. âWe smell like sweat and sawdust and sex.â
âSweat, sawdust, and sex. It has a nice ring to it.â She said, but couldnât help but agree. The longer they lingered in the stall the more the pleasure thatâd filled her head was slipping away and the more she could feel the slight uncomfortableness creeping in. The sweat and sawdust now made her skin feel a bit itchy, and she couldnât deny that sheâd appreciate a shower to clean herself of it. âBut youâre right,â she sighed and lifted a hand (noticing how many little flakes were stuck on her arm and smiling) to gently run through his blond curls, âa shower would feel nice if I could get up.â
âCome on, come on,â he grunted, slowly pulling himself up from her and gently pulling his still-sensitive cock from between her legs. He reached a hand down to her once heâd stood and lifted her up. A grin split over his face at the shape of her body pressed into the bedding, as did the fact that most of her backside was covered in it. Sweeping a quick hand down her skin he helped shake most of it off, and though she was thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, the caresses of his work-calloused hands still inspired pleasurable shivers.
They gathered their clothes thatâd been discarded in the walkway outside the stable, then giggled as they ran like children, hand-in-hand and naked as the day they were born across the yard and into the house.
âThank God I donât have any close enough neighbors!â Hazel laughed breathlessly once they were safely inside.
âI bet they wouldâve appreciated the sight,â humor in his voice that matched the sparkle in his eyes, Adam was still grinning as he leaned to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, then gently smacked her bare ass with an open palm.
She rolled her eyes, but was still grinning too.Â
It was strange that even though this was the first time Adam was in her home, it felt as though heâd been coming here for years. They walked down the hall and to her room, setting their clothes in the laundry basket, then moving for the master bath. Approaching the shower, Hazel turned the handle to start the water, sticking a hand under the stream to test the temperature.
âI wish I wasnât leaving so early in the morning.â He said, coming up behind her. His hands settled like gentle weights on her hips and he held her there as they waited for the water to warm.
Hazel turned her head to look over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. âMe neither.â She sighed.
âI could always stayâŚâ
âWhat about the rodeo?â
Adam rolled his eyes and tugged at her hips, pulling her and turning her around to face him. His arms wrapped lazily around her and he tilted his head, chin to chest as he locked his eyes with hers. A slight frown worried its way across his brow. âIâm already guaranteed a spot in the NFR, I can afford to miss a rodeo.â
She didnât want to compare him to Matt, she didnât want to do that when it wasnât fair to do to Matt⌠but something in her heart that had been hurt by everything that happened between her and Matt lifted at the honesty in Adamâs tone. Still, as amazing as it was to have him, just thinking of Matt threatened to spread a crack across the dam that held back thoughts she couldnât afford to let loose while Adam was here. As sure as she was that she and Matt were over, Adam was still his friend and was in his life. Regardless of her relationship with Matt, Adam still had one with him, and theyâd complicated that by being together.
Why did the man who spoke to her heart in ways sheâd never experienced have to be so close to the man sheâd fallen in love with? Why couldnât he have been some stranger she could run away with and not have to face any problems or think of all the ways she could have handled the situation better?
âYou already paid the registry fees and trucked Dolly here,â she said with a smile she didnât quite feel, but hoped heâd buy. âGo to your rodeo, we can pick another weekend to get together.â Then, she added, âBesides, I want to spend time bonding with my new horse.â
At that, Adam smiled. âAlright, alright.â His thumb gently massaged her hip and he bent to place a sweet kiss on her lips, then again on her forehead. He was full of sweet, sentimental touches. It was as if he had to make up for every moment he wasnât able to offer romantic affection those months and months they hadnât gotten to be with one another. Was he making up for lost time? Or could he simply not help but keep reaching for her while she was there in armâs reach?
âThe waterâs probably warm enough now,â she murmured, still stuck in the warmth in his soft, green eyes.
âCâmon then darlinâ,â he sighed and pulled his arms off of her so she could turn around and step into the shower. âLetâs get cleaned up, put the horses up and get something to eat.â
âMm, that sounds like a perfect idea,â she agreed as the warm jets of water hit her and began to take the dirt and sweat off her body.
They wouldnât have much time that evening to spend together. Adam needed to leave before the crack of dawn in order to get to the grounds with enough time to register, unload Dolly in the pens and check which bronc heâd be riding and then prepare accordingly. The way the pair of them functioned together honestly astonished Hazel somewhat. They were in such tandem, it felt like this was the hundredth time Adam had stayed the evening with her at her house.
After dinner they cuddled up on the couch with what little time they had, Carson and Callahan lying in their beds and the television on low on a repeat of a show neither of them were paying much mind to. Instead, Hazel and Adam had taken to giggling and talking among each other, teasing each other as they flowed with ease from topic to topic, avoiding anything too deep or painful and simply enjoying one anotherâs company. Hazel remembered how Adam had told her it was like she was able to say the things he was thinking before he said them and early on, she realized she felt the same way about him. It was like something in their minds just⌠clicked.
Like they were always meant to be. They had that inexplicable bond. That once in a lifetime sort of thing that couldnât be forced. It just was.
Eventually as the night wound down she was lying on his chest, dozing softly off to sleep. On the coffee table a phone started to vibrate with an incoming call. Her phone, in fact, lying face down. It gently moved as the vibrations disturbed it from where it sat.
âYouâre getting a call, darlinâ.â His soft voice gently ushered. He ran a wide palm up and down her arm to rouse her from falling asleep.
âMmm,â she sank deeper and kept her eyes shut. It was too warm and peaceful here in his arms to pull herself free. âIf itâs important theyâll leave a message.â
He chuckled and she felt it rumble in his chest.
âWell, letâs at least head off to bed then. I have to be up inâŚâ he groaned as he reached to get his phone and check the time, âUgh. Four hours.â
She made a small noise of complaint that sheâd have to move, but let him gently encourage her upward so he could slip out from under her. He leaned in and pulled her up to her feet, reaching to grab her phone and setting it in her hand. Hazel grabbed it as she rubbed her eyes and yawned, clicking the power off on the television and stumbling toward the bedroom. Callahan and Carson hopped up to follow, tails wagging, clearly happy it was bedtime.
Adam flipped her comforters back as they went into the room and only once she was securely snuggled up, phone set face-down on the nightstand nearby did he begin flicking off lights and making a careful path toward the other side of the bed. Carson and Callahan jumped shamelessly up and curled in tight little balls at the end of the bed, warming her feet. She thought of shooing them to their beds on the floor, but Adam babytalked them as he got into bed and leaned to give them both scratches behind the ear as he told them goodnight and finally slipped in beside her. It made her smile and then his warm arm came around her waist and he slid her across the bed toward him.
âGoodnight Hazel,â he whispered against her ear, placing another kiss tenderly on her temple. Hazel hoped that soft, loving touch stayed through her dreams to encourage the very kindest of them and that sheâd still feel it when she awoke the next morning.
Hours later - though she wasnât entirely aware of the time - she was stirred awake by Adamâs soft voice. He wasnât even in bed with her anymore, but standing bedside, bent over and gently brushing her hair out of her face as he talked to her in hushed tones.
âI have to get going.â Regret colored his tone and through the mental fog brought on by sleep, she barely managed to make a soft, disagreeing groan. It made him chuckle and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He stayed near enough that she could feel his next breaths warm across her face. âI know, I know. I wish I didnât need to go either. Iâll call you when I get to the rodeo grounds.â
âMmkay,â Hazel agreed sleepily, and then groaned. âDaisy needs breakfastâŚâ It was only four in the morning and she could probably wait for a few more hours, but if Adam was going to be taking Dolly out of the stable a flake of hay to keep Daisy distracted at being alone might be kind of nice.
âYou just stay sleeping,â Adam hushed her and tucked her in a little more under the blankets, giving her shoulder a soft rub. âIâll see that Daisy has food and her water bucket is cleaned out before I take off, okay?â
âMm⌠mhm.â Her eyelids were already closing despite wanting to keep them open to look at what she could see of him in the dark pre-dawn light of her room.
âAlright,â he laughed and kissed her forehead again. âIâll call you later darlinâ.â
âMmkayâŚâ she mumbled again into her pillow. âBe safe.â
âI will, promise.â
She listened to the sound of his boots fading away down the hall, then the door jingle before it softly shut and then silence. She meant to listen to every single sound she could catch, even the far away ones out the window. She wanted to hear clear up to the rumble of the truck starting and the sound of tires on gravel, but before she knew it she was already drifting back to sleep. The sheets still smelled like him and she wrapped her arms around the pillow heâd been using and tucked it in close to her body, pressing her face into it and feeling the way her body relaxed with the next breath she took before sleep had her again.
When she awoke she felt confused. âAdam?â She muttered groggily, inhaling and smelling him before she cracked her eyelids open and looked down at the pillow she was still holding on to. She frowned, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes before the hushed morning came back to her of Adam getting dressed as quietly as he could and giving her a quick goodbye kiss. A smile melted across her lips, thinking of the evening theyâd shared. It wasnât even the sex she thought of first - though that was certainly worth remembering - but the hours after when theyâd just shared each otherâs company. Even when they hadnât been talking, Hazel had felt so complete with him.
She shook her head and laughed breathlessly. How long had it been since sheâd felt that open with another man? Matt⌠She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes a little wider.Â
She felt open with Matt and comfortable with him, and when he was with her she felt warm and safe and cared for. But those were the good times, not all these painful conversations and lack thereof that had followed. No, the times she was soft and honest with him and he was with her were what she missed. Or when they could be in-person together, or those late night calls where neither of them wanted to hang up and they just started talking about everything and anything, swapping stories and growing closer. Those days the cocky front of Matt Jackson, Rodeo Champion, slipped away and she saw the gentle, caring, sensitive man underneath. Her heart ached swiftly enough that she felt the need to catch her breath. She missed those phone calls. She missed Matt.
Tears stung in her eyes and she cleared her throat and blinked them away. What right did she have to cry? How could she lie here and miss Matt when Adam had been a warm body in her bed not three hours prior?
Rolling over she reached toward her nightstand to grab her phone, turning it over so the screen would light up and show her what time it was. Notification banners for things sheâd missed - mainly social media mentions - popped up, as did one for a missed call. Sheâd nearly forgotten late last night when sheâd been just about to fall asleep on Adam that heâd said she was getting a call.
Missed Call: Matt đ
Her heart sank and she nearly dropped her phone.
New Voicemail: Matt đ
Hazel stared at the little red bubble indicating the missed message. Every piece of wonderful paradise the last twenty-four hours had been evaporated almost immediately, taken over by guilt. Was he calling to apologize while she was wrapped up peacefully in the arms of one of his closest friends? Attempting to stop her anxious spiral of thoughts, she realized she could be overthinking. The call could be Matt telling her it was time they talked, that heâd taken the week to think about what theyâd said and had decided she was right, he just wasnât ever going to be ready for a relationship. It could be him deciding they needed to give each other a proper goodbye instead of ghosting each other.
Tears burned in her eyes and she told herself again that she had no right to them or to the way her heart felt like it was being slowly, painfully squeezed. Sheâd spent the night before with her legs wrapped around one of his closest friends, moaning as he filled her with his cum. How could she now be heartbroken over the thought of Matt calling to tell her they should talk and end it all?
But what if⌠what if he was calling to apologize? What if he was calling to tell her heâd taken the week to think about it and realized he was being foolish and she was right and there was no reason they shouldnât be in a relationship now?
There was only going to be one way to know what Matt had been wanting to say.Â
She looked at the unplayed message, still looking up at her with itâs little red bubble. Her finger hovered over to bring the voicemail screen up where she could begin to play it and found she couldnât do it. She couldnât hit play. Not when every breath still drug touches of Adam into her lungs and she could hear his moans fresh in her ears.
**********
âHey, Adam! When did you get in?â Nickâs voice carried over the crowd as Adam stopped in step, turning to glance over his shoulder as he watched his friendâs approach. He turned to face him and shrugged.
âA little after eleven. I hit the registry table and got caught up talking with Kenny. Havenât even unloaded Dolly yet.â
âWell thatâs good news,â Nick smiled his characteristic large, happy, easy-going grin. He was wearing a dark brown carhartt jacket over his button-up and it reminded Adam he wanted to go back to his truck to grab his. The days were getting chillier and chillier the closer to the winter months they drew.
âWhyâs it good news?â
âWe kept one of the pens clear by our boys so Dolly would have familiar company. Mattâs been sitting on the fence this morning keeping anyone else from claiming it.â
âI appreciate that.â Adam said with a grin, though he had to fight to keep it through a sudden surge of discomfort that crawled through him at the mention of Matt. He immediately thought of Hazel.
âItâs no problem. Iâll show you where weâre at so you can bring Dolly over. Come on.â
Adam and Nick fell in step beside one another.
âItâs been good for Matt to have something to keep his mind occupied anyways. Heâs been getting into conversations with anyone who stops by to see if the pen is clear or not.â
âOh?â Adam said idly. In truth he didnât want to know why Matt needed to keep his mind occupied. He had a sneaking suspicion he at least knew somewhat what it might be about.
âYeah.â Nick said, and there seemed something briefly heavy in the sigh that followed. âBut weâre right over here.â He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and waved over to where his and Mattâs roping geldings were lounging in one of the temporarily set-up white pipe-fence pens. Beside them was another one, empty and ready for Adamâs mare.
âHey, Matt, look who I found wandering around the parking lot.â Nick called out as he leaned up against the gate. Immediately his gelding shuffled close, pressing its muzzle into his jacket and whuffing big, warm breaths that made the man giggle. Nick scratched the horse's forehead, ruffling its mane. Adam looked from Nick to Matt or, tried to, but found it was actually hard for him to look at Matt.
His lips pulled in a thin smile he hoped still looked polite and he glanced away. He tried not to notice how troubled Mattâs face looked before he smiled and nodded.
âMorning, Adam. Glad you got here safe.â
âThanks,â he said and glanced at his boots. âI uh, better go get Dolly.â He said with another tight grin to Nick, hoping no one picked up on how badly he suddenly needed to get away.
As he made for where heâd parked the trailer he found himself getting angry for feeling guilty. Matt never had any trouble with women for as long as Adam had known him. Every rodeo they pulled into it seemed Matt had some pretty little thing hanging off of him and giggling by the end of the night. Adam could be just as lucky too, but all those cute girls with their pretty smiles and admiring stares never really caught his attention. They made him feel nervous and oftentimes the attraction felt empty.Â
Then came Hazel, the first woman to make him actually care about something other than his career. Why did Matt have to have eyes for her to? She was beautiful, sure, but she was so much more than that. It wasnât fair that Matt got to hold on to her like she was something heâd cherish when he got to have any girl he wanted with ease. Plus, he clearly wasnât doing a good job taking care of her. Adam had felt the way she clung hard onto him when heâd first showed up at her house. And if the tables had been turned and Hazel had asked him if they could date he never would have bookmarked that conversation for later.Â
Because the moment Adam had looked in her eyes heâd seen the eyes their future kids would have. The first time their lips had touched heâd sworn heâd heard church bells and the cheers of their loved ones filling the church he married her in.
Adam was sure if he could get Hazel to see how deep their connection was by the time Matt and her talked after the NFR sheâd be more in love with him and would tell Matt they wouldnât work. It was a shitty plan and a shitty thing to do as Mattâs so-called friend, but Adamâs loneliness had made him into something he wasnât entirely proud of. So be it. He was tired of letting life pass him up because he wanted to do the right thing. No one else seemed to be so worried about doing what was right and they were getting what they wanted. It was finally time for Adam to get what he wanted.
Yet here he was, suffering guilt he hadnât foreseen. Adam sucked hard at the back of his teeth as he popped the trailer door, carefully unloading Dolly. He rubbed her neck and sighed, deciding heâd do his best to put it all out of his mind that weekend and not act on it. Heâd already texted Hazel early on to let her know heâd gotten there safely, and smiled when he got her message back telling him good luck and sheâd be watching the live feed of his ride later on.
âThatâs what Iâll focus on, eh girl?â He asked Dolly as they made their way toward the pens, her shod hooves gently clipping the dirt and gravel parking lot. Instead of spending his day worrying about how Matt would feel if he found out Adam had slept with Hazel, heâd think about her behind one of the few cameras pointed at the ring. Heâd think about her sitting on her couch, cheering him on with her dogs getting hyper at her yelling and starting up a good-natured ruckus.
It made him smile just picturing it.
**********
The rodeo weekend turned out to be a moderate success. He and Nick had run well enough to maintain their leadership spot heading into the NFR, though heâd been distracted and hadnât done what he knew to be his best. This would be one of the nights he would have talked down about his run just to listen to his friends encourage him with everything heâd done right, or even take their advice if they noticed what heâd missed. Heâd refuse to tell them it was because he was preoccupied, but he knew he didnât need to tell his brother that. After their first run had been less than fluid, Nickâs only words to Matt had been: She hasnât called yet?
And Matt had felt like he was letting Nick down by having his personal life affect their scores. Still, it wasnât as if he could help himself. Every waking second was full of Hazel. It was almost torture. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes in the crowd and felt his heart leap and sink all at the same time as he whipped his head to see if he could catch her, only to realize it was someone who just vaguely resembled her.
Itâd been wrong to wait an entire week to contact her, but heâd been⌠Well⌠Heâd been scared. Heâd never felt the way he felt for another woman like he did Hazel. He liked women, but not enough to let them take any place in his life beside the rodeo. With Hazel? He was actually considering it. Hell, the way she occupied his mind that weekend she might as well have been there sharing the days with him.Â
Heâd thought of calling her all week, but the more time passed that she didnât call him left him wondering if he was making a mistake. He couldnât stop thinking about the fact that she said he was already hurting her, and how awful that made him feel to know. He didnât like hurting the people he cared about - the people he loved - even if he hadnât meant to do so. Maybe her not calling him was supposed to be his hint that she was over what theyâd been doing? Maybe it was too late? Maybe heâd already lost her...
But two days ago, late Friday night, heâd finally got up the courage to call her. Heâd missed her, and as his heart pounded in his throat and his body felt shaky he listened to the call ring and ring and ring⌠then click over to voicemail.
When she hadnât called back right away he assumed she was already asleep and heâd hear from her the next day. Saturday stretched on and on, every time his phone buzzed he jumped thinking it was her, only to feel his heart sink when it wasnât. He hadnât been able to sleep. Matt couldnât remember the last time heâd felt this way.
By the end of the second day his patience was worn thin. Hurt was quickly turning to anger, especially when he was so adapted to pushing away these feelings in the first place. She wasnât even going to call him just to tell him she didnât want to see him anymore? After all theyâd been through? This was why he didnât date. This was why he didnât let anything go beyond a night with a pretty girl at a rodeo. This was all the stuff he didnât want to take his focus away from what was important. This was why he let himself have fun and kissed the women who fawned over him after the show, but didnât bother to keep their names in his phone.
The fact that his and Nickâs runs had been subpar just proved all those points heâd been telling himself all along. He really didnât need this kind of bullshit.
Not even a text message?
Neurotic, he did what heâd been doing all weekend and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, clicking his and Hazelâs last text messages, seeing they were still the old message, then over to the call log to see he still hadnât missed any calls from her. Still nothing.Â
âHey there, handsome.â
He frowned at the screen, not hearing the voice thatâd been practically right in front of him.
âHellooo?â
His brown eyes jumped over the top of his phone and down at the cute little cowgirl standing in front of him. She had short brown hair tucked under her cowgirl hat and pretty blue-green eyes that glimmered up at him. If his mind wasnât so preoccupied by Hazel, he mightâve immediately realized that this girl was damn gorgeous and she was looking up at him with a look he knew all too well.
âSorry,â he laughed dryly and clicked his phone screen back to black, shoving it into his jeans.
âExpecting a call?â She asked, tilting her head.
âY-â He cleared his throat. âNo.â
âHmm.â She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to decide if she believed him or not. âYou sure youâre not waiting on a call? Maybe from a wife or- well⌠-â His fingers tingled as she gently grasped his hand and turned it, seeing no ring. âA girlfriend?â
She was bold, heâd give her that.
âI donât have a girlfriend.â The words almost hurt to get out when they used to be so smooth to say.
âReally?â She asked, half surprised, half pleased. âHard to believe a handsome cowboy like you is single. I saw how good you handled that rope earlierâŚâ Sheâd gently stroked her finger over the back of his right hand sheâd been holding. She gave it a little squeeze before she let it go, a small curl of the edge of her lips speaking to a kind of mischief he was usually all too eager to pursue.
âThatâs nothing,â he laughed dryly, âThat wasnât my best performance. You should see how good I normally am.â A little bitter sting at his runs this weekend. He knew he was better than that.
âOh?â She leaned in a little and he could smell her. Vanilla. Sunshine, despite the fact that it was late Sunday night and there were stars twinkling in the sky above. Nothing like Hazelâs warm caramel coffee and fresh baked goods, which he attributed her smelling like because of her coffee shop. He felt a pang of sadness that the woman hanging on his front didnât smell like Hazel, then decided that was better and took a deeper breath. The more of her he breathed in, the less of Hazel heâd remember.
Thatâs what he needed right now. This. To remember who he was and why he did this - slept with pretty women at rodeos and didnât get attached to them - instead of dating. They didnât know one another, but he felt like the woman he was talking to understood exactly what she was getting into. Or maybe he just wanted to tell himself that so he didnât feel guilty about what he was going to do next.
Matt turned his hand so he could hold hers instead of her holding his, then he ran his touch up her arm and slipped his warm, calloused palm on her round cheek. He tilted her face toward his and gave her a smile he knew made most girls weak in the knees.
âWhatâs your name?â The pad of his thumb skimmed her lower lip and his mouth broke gently apart as his eyes fell to trace the touch. She had the prettiest lipsâŚÂ
âJosie.â She murmured, his thumb staying with the movement.
âJosie,â he repeated, and his smile deepened. âThatâs pretty.â
It was getting easier and easier to forget his pain⌠or so he kept telling himself. Matt leaned in and slipped his thumb away, holding her face as his lips brushed hers. Guilt twisted in his stomach as, behind his closed eyelids, he suddenly saw Hazelâs face and it felt strange, not tasting Hazel as he kissed this woman he didnât know.
But she leaned up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him down closer and their mouths opened, tongues slipping along each otherâs and he remembered to stop thinking about Hazel. He kissed Josie harder, dropping his hand to her hip and pulling her tighter against his body. He liked to feel it bounce off his. Surely the more and more turned on he got the more heâd stop thinking about Hazel anyways. He needed to. Hazel had clearly forgotten about him so he needed to forget about her.
She had probably spent the last week with that other guy sheâd met. That's why she hadnât called him back. She was already off with someone else who could be there for her. His fear had become reality.
Mattâs fingers squeezed tighter on Josieâs hips and her excited squeal melted warm in his mouth. A hiss of a laugh out of his nose and he turned them around, flattening her back on the fencepost as he bent his head and kissed her closer. He had to be kissing her hard enough that the coarse hair of his beard was scratching her skin. Her hat had been knocked back and off at their feet, but neither seemed to want to stop long enough to grab it. Mattâs hands slipped from around her hips and dug into the fat of her ass, pressing her even closer to his front. He grunted as she rubbed her leg on his thigh.
âWhat the fuck is this?â A sudden voice threw ice water over the heat that was stirring up between them.
Matt leaped off her as though touching her burned his hands, turning with wild eyes to see Adam having come around the corner and stopping short, staring at them both. His eyes left Josie and focused on Matt. Why did he look so angry?
âMind your own business Adam, what the hell do you think this is?â Matt growled and made a conscious decision to step closer to Josie. He didnât want her to think sheâd done anything wrong, so he put a hand back on her hip and pulled her close to him.
âYouâreâŚâ Adam shook his head and laughed, but there was no humor in it.
âIâm what?â Now he slipped away from holding onto Josie, turning toward his friend with a frown digging hard across his brow. All the emotions stirred up inside him were leading him somewhere he knew he shouldnât be. It was like a runaway train and he was helpless to stop it. âFinish your fucking sentence if youâre going to bother interrupting me.â
âYouâre fucking unbelievable.â Adam glanced at the woman next to him, then back at Matt. âWhat about Hazel?â
âWhat about Hazel, Adam?â Matt scoffed and took a step toward him. âWhere do you get off commenting on my relationship? You donât even know Hazel, and whatever is going on between her and I is between her and I, you understand?â
Theyâd drawn in close enough that they were nearly standing nose to nose. Matt had never seen Adam this worked up and it made him even angrier to see it. Since when did Adam have any say in Mattâs relationships?
Or maybe it was because everything Adam was saying was a tangible culmination of the guilt heâd been trying to ignore.
Of course, the fact that heâd feel guilt just made him angrier. Hadnât he said enough when heâd called her? If sheâd listened to his voicemail and chosen not to call him that was all the answer he needed. He didnât need to sit around moping over it. He was a grown adult, Hazel was a grown adult and even though theyâd apparently chosen a messy way to end their almost-relationship, it was clearly over.
So again, what gave Adam any right to comment on it? What right did Adam have to be angry with Matt, anyways?
The tense moments crept by in seconds that felt drawn out into minutes.
Adam shook his head and broke eye-contact first, looking down between them as he smiled and sucked at the back of his teeth. âWhatever, Matt.â He turned and walked away and Matt let him, even though his fist was curled at his side and some rage-fueled part of his brain told him it would have felt good to hit Adam for that look. For trying to make him feel guilty for something he didnât know or understand.
The quiet permeated the small area as Adam left and Matt half expected when he turned around heâd find Josie had made her exit, deciding her attempt to get a hook-up with him wasnât worth all this personal drama. He couldnât blame her, really.
âSo, whoâs Hazel?â
He was surprised when she spoke up, though his shoulders tensed.
âSheâsâŚâ he turned and looked at Josie, who had her brow cocked as she looked at him. At some point sheâd bent to pick her hat up and dusted it off before setting it back on her head. âIt doesnât matter who she is.â He tried not to pay attention to the little sting on his heart to say it. âSheâs not here.â
âI am.â Josie said boldly with a smile, drawing in closer to him.
âYeah.â Matt turned to face her fully again and put the anger in Adamâs eyes out of his mind along with all the uncertainties and emotions that came with thinking about Hazel. âYou are.â
He leaned down and put his mouth back on hers, deciding he was ready to just forget everything and go back to his old ways. It may not have given him the wholeness heâd felt with Hazel, but it hadnât given him this kind of pain, either.
**********
TEXT FROM: Rosie
Have you listened to it yet?
Hazel read the message on her phone after tugging it from her jeans. Sheâd just untacked and cooled Daisy down from their ride, giving her a good rub down before she turned her loose in the arena. Hazel bit at her lip and replied.
TEXT TO: Rosie
Not yetâŚ
She knew she needed to. Late Friday evening Matt had called and left a voicemail on her phone which sheâd seen Saturday morning after Adam left. She knew sheâd needed to listen to it, but every time she clicked her voicemails and prepared herself, she chickened out. She and Adam had talked a little in text and once on the phone, but she hadnât told him about the missed call. It already seemed wrong enough that Adam knew about her deal with Matt and everything else, but Matt had been kept completely in the dark through the whole thing.
She hadnât told Adam sheâd tuned in to the rodeoâs live stream early enough to catch the tag roping to watch Mattâs runs, either.
Now it was Tuesday afternoon, with the sunset just a few short hours away. Hazel needed to do the adult thing and listen to the message. If it was Matt saying his goodbyes then she needed to accept the reality that was dealt to her that things were really over between them. She and Adam could begin figuring out how theyâd eventually be together and maybe, in time, her heart wouldnât hurt every time she saw or heard from Matt.Â
TEXT FROM: Rosie
BabeâŚ
Hazel sighed.
TEXT TO: Rosie
I know, I know.
Rosie had told her days ago to listen to it and had even gone as far as to offer to listen to it for her. Hazel had appreciated it, but she knew she needed to listen to it herself.
She also knew it was wrong of her to have taken this long. She just wasnât ready to feel the full brunt of the heartbreak she hadnât anticipated. She hadnât even meant to fall in love in the first place.
She almost laughed then, realizing that sheâd never even told him she was in love with him and now they were probably through.
Hazel drew a breath and leaned on the arena fence, trying not to think about the day she, Matt, his brother and all their friends had all come together to build it. She shook her head and clicked her phone off her text message conversation with Rosie and to her voicemail screen. Right there on top was his unread message, still waiting for her as it had been for days. Hazel clicked it and felt her stomach drop, lifting to hold the phone to her ear.
âHey, Hazel? Itâs Matt. Listen⌠IâŚâ His voice was heavy. He sighed. âI know our last call didnât go great and I know me not calling or texting you hasnât helped. To tell you the truth Iâve been⌠Iâve been freaked out. I donât do good when Iâm⌠well, Iâm not used to being scared like this. I donât know when and I donât know how, but Hazel, I care about you more than Iâve cared about someone in - hell - forever. I care about you like I care about Nick, except not like - heâs my brother and you⌠well. You get it. Look, I know Iâm not making much sense and Iâm having trouble figuring out what Iâm trying to say. I had it all in my head and kept practicing what I wanted to tell you this whole week. The thing is, Hazel, I think thereâs a chance IâmâŚâ He trailed off and her heart beat so fast she felt sick. âWell⌠I know I donât have any right to keep asking you to hang on, and I know youâre right, thereâs no difference if we date now or if we date later but⌠I want to do this thing right, you know? When we⌠Hell...if we decided to be more official. I want to be there for you full-time, not when Iâm preoccupied with the rodeo season. Does that make sense? Maybe it doesnât⌠I donât know. I just⌠all I know is that I miss you, Hazel, and I canât stop thinking about our last call. Just⌠listen⌠if you still want us to maybe work toward something, give me a call back, alright? I know Iâm not perfect and I know Iâm pretty terrible at this relationship thing and I know you met someone else and I keep thinking itâs pry better for you to have someone who can take care of you right while I keep making all these mistakes but⌠damnit, Hazel.â His voice had gotten tight and she realized he was fighting off tears. âI think Iâm⌠I think Iâm falling in love with you and that scares the shit out of me. You donât owe me anything, you donât even have to call me back, but I really, really hope you will.â
The message clicked and Mattâs voice was gone.
Hazel took a sharp, shaky breath that tasted like tears. The vision of Dolly standing in the far corner of the arena blurred as more tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, cold as they slipped and fell one after the other to the dirt below.
#hangman adam page fanfiction#hangman page fanfiction#adam page fanfiction#aew fanfiction#matt jackson fanfiction#all elite wrestling#aew#my fics: hangman adam page#my fics: matt jackson#my fics: starlight#mine: fanfiction
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Interview With Robert Plant 1977: https://www.interviewmagazine.com/music/new-again-robert-plant
You can find the interview in that article but I cut it down to just the interview.
[April. Late afternoon. On a double bed in Swingoâs Celebrity Hotel, Cleveland, Ohio.]
ROBERT PLANT: [gazing out of the window at a parking lot] Oooh! Is that a Mark V? That is one isnât it? Itâs very nice, I like that. Can you get those in New York? [Shouting to a man with a camera on the street] Itâs not worth the pictures! Itâs not worth the picturesâforget it!
VOICE: [from the street] You think so?
PLANT: [laughing] Nahâ
VOICE: Then Iâll get some tonight at your show.
PLANT: Never heard of it. Iâm not going.
VOICE: No?
PLANT: I hear they suck. [to me] So what is your story then, Sir? Or in factâ
MARK GINSBURG: I want to know what yours isâŚ
PLANT: I have no story. My story goes from day to day.
GINSBURG: Okay. Whatâs todayâs?
[silence]
JENINE SAFER: [publicist] Seven Up is great for hair management!
PLANT: Mmm. Well, I just found out that Seven Up left in the hair for 12 hours is the greatest hair conditioner. I mean all this shit on the TV that you seeâI donât believe it at all.
SAFER: But it has to be applied properly by John Bonham [alias Bonzo, Led Zeppelinâs drummer]
PLANT: Where are you going to be?
SAFER: Iâll have to get a schedule off you. Then sit down with Jonsey [John Paul Jones] as well because weâve got to do the plan. [mumbles]⌠got to do the plan.
GINSBURG: Whatâs the plan?
PLANT: Well⌠discretion is the better part of valor. How to let the family have a wonderful time without knowing itâs all programmed. I might as well tell you that thereâs not a lot of towns that I can go to and take familyâtoo many incongruous knocks on doorsââHello, honey. Have you missed me?â
GINSBURG: So where do you go then?
SAFER: Not Dallas!
PLANT: North Bend, Indiana is rather scenic in August.
GINSBURG: North Bend, Indiana?
PLANT: Ah, well you see I know a lot about the colonies.
GINSBURG: Who colonized them?
PLANT: âTwas us! We Redcoats.
SAFER: [after a pause] Last night was so much fun.
PLANT: My jawâs hurting from just giggling. Now thatâs a good sign young man after nine years of rock-ânâ-roll. That you can still laugh at each other for about eight hours âtill you have to go to bed holding your head.
SAFER: [leaving room to re-sew the spider-web design on Plantâs concert shirt] Same time next weekâ
PLANT: Well, itâs going to be the big one tonight. Now, did you come to another town? I was supposed to see you in Chicago, right? What happened?
GINSBURG: Do you really want to be reminded?
PLANT: Yeah.
GINSBURG: You had a strange afternoonâŚ
PLANT: [screams] Ohhhh! There was nothing strange about tit. It was regular, butâŚ
GINSBURG: Typical strange afternoon, then. It all depends on your point of viewâ
PLANT: âŚwhich angle you lie.
GINSBURG: Right. Well then, what would you like to lie about?
PLANT: No! I was meaning âlieâ as in what Iâm doing nowâlying down.
GINSBURG: And get high?
PLANT: No. I made a vow after two years of not working, because of the accident, that I should, uh, take care of my health 100 percent. With two years of living not quite sure whether youâre going to rock-ânâ-roll again, the build-up to this tour was tremendous. The inspiration was flowing, âcause when I knew that I could go back onstage again with my foot, I just said, âRight. Now, if I am going to do that, if Iâm going to dance again, perform again, then Iâm going to sing better than Iâve ever sung before. Thereâs nothing thatâs gonna stop me.â
GINSBURG: You would not have settled for remaining in the studio rather than onstage?
PLANT: Oh, no. When I started all I wanted to do was get out in form. I just wanted to sing. A simple thing. I loved the feeling of letting fly, of pushing as far as I could go with my voice. The only way you can really graduate how you do it is by doing it regularly to people who donât have to be super impressed. You can do it in the studio all day long but you donât get the flashback that you get onstage.
GINSBURG: Do you still get the flashback as much each time?
PLANT: More now. Much more now, this tour.
GINSBURG: You realized youâd miss it then.
PLANT: Oh, essentially thereâs a very serious aspect underneath everything now for me. Well, not serious but one of relief, I guess. There is nothing that will stand in the way of the fact that Iâm going to put out 199 percent every night. So, Iâll leave the pot alone for a bit, âcause it only clogs up my vocal cords, anyway. You get tar up them. [demonstrates hoarse sounds]
GINSBURG: Any favorite Zeppelin albums?
PLANT: I donât have any favorites. Each album comes from definitely a different period in the evolution of each of us individually as creators and the role that we take in life. The external stimuli changed⌠so the songs are full of lots of different meanings. Each album has a different atmosphere. The third album and Houses of the Holy seem to be the two albums that people didnât get off on quite as strongly as the other ones. But I think they contain the basic ingredients for the further pursuance of what weâre doing⌠the turning point to relieve the tedium of repetition.
GINSBURG: Presence seems to be a turning point, too.
PLANT: Presence was our phoenix.
GINSBURG: Yours mostly?
PLANT: Well, I know Iâm talking so itâs coming from me, but when you sit in a wheelchair and sing the whole album, the very fact that youâve sung it is fantastic. But for everyone, in that we got it together in such a short space of time under such odds not knowing what the outcome was going to beânot of the album but of the future of the band.
GINSBURG: Why not knowing?
PLANT: Because the doctors could never really quite tell me, all that time, about how inactive I might have been left from the accident. So we were just kicking it from the very depths of our determination.
GINSBURG: Could you have stayed on top without performing live?
PLANT: Oh, I donât think anybody would have want to. I guess we could have made it cutting studio albums, but it takes shows and tours for, uhâ
GINSBURG: Energy?
PLANT: Yes, and inspiration! Events like last night. Silly times, andâŚ.
GINSBURG: You used to sing on rather simply about a girlâalways one that you couldnât have but wanted badly, for instance. Now the description is more colored, complex.
PLANT: Sure. Well, Iâve tried to do that on things. Like with Celebration Day, going back: âHer face is cracked from smilingâ and that sort of thing. The impression of a free world all the way through. It could still have been greyed but it could have also had that natural effect that time gives it.
GINSBURG: But everything you sang about early onâthe open spaces, the beautiful women, the dreamsâarenât these all things youâve now hadâgoals youâve reached?
PLANT: Iâve touched, thatâs all. You have nothing. One should never allow themselves to think that they have, one can just touchâto have is to lack appreciation, to touch is to want to touch again.
GINSBURG: So some things are still inaccessible to you now?
PLANT: Definitely. Iâd like to think thatâs the way it should be. Thatâs what keeps me going on and on and on. Like that bit in our movie, [The Song Remains the Same], the princess thing. Everybody thought I was out to⌠well, âThereâs Plant after another chickâŚâ But there, the whole thing is that in the end the chick disappears before my eyes. You must just get in reach so that you know youâve made the effectâthe primary effect. And you mustnât grab it too hard⌠so the most basic things can still remain a pleasure.
GINSBURG: Ten years ago did you want to become a rock star?
PLANT: Well, I didnât look at it like that. I just wanted to sing. Nobody ever looks at it like that. Didnât even know what one was then. Still donât.
GINSBURG: Well what happened?
PLANT: Iâd already played with people whoâd got the same amount of adrenaline and drive as Iâd got and it just so happened that Jimmy [PageâLZâs lead guitarist and former member of the infamous Yardbirds] had got more than Iâd got. He could channel it. He knew which way to let it go. And that was the best thing that ever happened to me, musically. Iâd found someone whose tastes were basically along the same lines. Whoâd got the patience to allow me toâitâs like dangling your foot in a swimming pool to see how deep it is or how coldâaccustom myself to everything that would come along that he was already aware of from the Yardbirds. Perfect relationship.
GINSBURG: Has it changed much?
PLANT: Yeah, because Iâve grown up. My experiences of course now come up to the same ones as his. I guess weâre both sort of trotting together rather than him showing me the way as he did in the early days.
GINSBURG: Where are your musical roots?
PLANT: In anything thatâs done wholeheartedly from Edith Piaf through to Howlinâ Wolf. From anything that comes from that point. Some people say I sing from the groin. In the early days it was Howlinâ Wolf and Muddy Waters, Ray Charles, Drown My Own Tearsâstuff that was ultimately sincere. And some wild, wild rock, too: Little Richard, early Presley stuffâbefore he went into the Army. Presley was definitely a great inspiration to every guy who ever had a hard-on in the whole of the Western world, I should think. He shook everybody well and true, and we just kept on shakinâ. But he started it.
GINSBURG: And now, Led Zeppelin is left to carry the ballâŚ
PLANT: I donât know⌠Iâd like to go to more concerts to see the overall effect of an audience because I like to see excitement. But I like the excitement to be contained. In the early days when we used to play everybody was banginâ their heads on the stage and going completely crackers. Now they sit down and absorb. Thereâs a sort of transfixion between ourselves and the audience, which is wonderful. Itâs a great level to have reached with people who you donât know by name. That is my idea of the ultimate sort of communication level.
GINSBURG: How far away do you feel from an audience when there are tens of thousands of people watching you? How can you see or hear?
PLANT: You pick it up without sight or sound. I suppose for a vocalist itâs super built-in because if I talk, I do the talking. I think I can feel better than I can see.
GINSBURG: What music do you listen to at home when you listen to music?
PLANT: Uh, I like Little Feat, Fleetwood Macâobviously. That little lady ought to come and sing on one of our albums. If she were to come sing on one of our albumsâit wouldâŚWhatâs her name?âStevieâŚ
GINSBURG: Will you or any LZ member play onstage or record with anyone else?
PLANT: Well, no, I think it would only be impromptu. On other albums maybe just guesting for a trackâon a very light-hearted level. I canât see any serious turn one way or another. We just enjoy playing with each other. I wouldnât like to go and sing with anybody else at all.
GINSBURG: Why not?
PLANT: I just donât. When youâre singing we all phrase each other in the most remarkable ways. I might hit some sort of thing Iâve never done beforeâsome vocal pattern. Bonzo will pick it upâheâll phrase with me instantly and then Pagey may join in or start some other phraseâitâs like a quadrant.
GINSBURG: Where did Kashmir come from?
PLANT: The rhythm came from Bonzo. The sort of striding majestic element really came from Jimmyâs and my leanings toward the East. I wrote the lines after driving into the Sahara Desert because I knew that I was on my way to the Spanish Sahara and there was the war on between Morocco and the Spanish. I kept bumping down a dusty desert trackânobody for miles except, occasionally, a guy on a camel, waving his hand in the most nonchalant Arabic way. And I thought, âWell, this is great but one dayâKashmir.â And the sun was beating down upon my faceâŚ
GINSBURG: So your ideas spring from place youâve been or want to go?
PLANT: Well, Kashmir is my last resort. I think, if I truly deserve it one day, I should go there and stay there for quite a while. Or if I really need it at any point, it should be my haven, my Shangri-la.
GINSBURG: Any place else?
PLANT: Well, the whole point of âAchillesâ Last Standâ is that, though the story builds, itâs centered around one spot on the top of the high Atlas Mountains. One tiny little spot on the side of a track 10,000 feet upâlooking down over half of Southern Morocco.
GINSBURG: âAchillesâ Last StandââI would have thought the title had something to do with your accident.
PLANT: It did. It did because I fell over when I was singing it in the studio and I was rushed to the hospital. They thought that I had fucked it for good. [moves his leg up and down in the air] So I spent two week yet again with it up in the air. I still hadnât walkedâwhich is after four months without walking and Iâd put all my weight on itâwent down, bang! Pagey virtually carried me to the hospital. And when it got to a point where I could lower it gain off the bed without touching the ground, I was wheeled to the studio while the others were asleep and did the whole vocal track all over again from start to finish. I said, âRight from the top, Iâm going to do it again and Iâm going to call it that.â
GINSBURG: What about the song âFor Your Life?â
PLANT: Thatâs a sarcastic dig at one person in particular that I know, who was a really good person but got swallowed up with the whole quagmire of the downhill slide, the L.A. syndrome. You know the sort of thing. âHung on the balance of a crystal pane through your noseâŚâ
GINSBURG: But you must see so much of thatâ
PLANT: Yeah, but when it affects people who I love then I sort of snap back at themââDonât you understand that you are now immortalizedâThe parody of it all⌠is there for you to behold.â
GINSBURG: And why do you think that happens to people?
PLANT: Itâs the way⌠these arenât people in the immediate surroundings but theyâre people who come and go who we knowâusually of the opposite sex. People get carried along with the whole momentum and the adrenaline of a rock-ânâ-roll band. Weâre in one thatâs been going for nine years, âcause we can still shake it better than anybody else. Then when you leave people behind in a situation you say, âBye, see ya next timeâŚ,â and they sort of slide into the L.A. syndrome, and New York. You come back, and they donât look as well as they should do, you know, the smile has changed a bit. And this [âFor Your Lifeâ] is sort of waving your finger and saying, âNow you watch it.â
GINSBURG: You think they put too much stock in it all?
PLANT: Well, I think it carries them away.
GINSBURG: It wouldnât carry you away?
PLANT: It carried me away but I carried me away, because we are it, the thing that rolls.
GINSBURG: So then where can you get carried away to now?
PLANT: Well, itâs entirely up to me how far over the top I want to go, you know.
GINSBURG: Have you peaked?
PLANT: I donât think there is such a thing as peaking. Because if there is so much change, then how does one know when oneâs reached the pinpoint?
GINSBURG: How do you measure your success?
PLANT: By my own satisfaction. If I doubt what Iâm doing then Iâll go about putting it rightâreadjusting. Time is too precious to⌠dance with half-measures.
GINSBURG: You have kids?
PLANT: Yep. A boy and girl and thereâs no compensation for children. You can never compare any elation at all to watching a child⌠because the child is only the reflection of yourself and those of the people who surround it. So really I guess I prefer to be with them. But, you know, when you canât take this out of your bloodâŚ
GINSBURG: What do you do, more or less, when you arenât singing?
PLANT: [smiles] Wish I was⌠I donât know⌠I have a great love for the more atmospheric parts of Britain. The parts that contain true atmosphere. The days of Albion, the Dark Ages, if you like.
GINSBURG: You must have a more manic side, too.
PLANT: Oh yeah. Iâm a total soccer freak. I total soccer freak. Absolute total.
GINSBURG: Will you be able to start up again, at all?
PLANT: I canât play anymore. I can play touch soccer where I could tap the ball around and do tricks and things like that. But I couldnât go in, or tap hard. I spend every weekend, every possible moment with the soccer team that I support. Get involved with them, goinâ to see them and having sort of discussions with the management and chairmen how to project a soccer team in the â70sâon a parallel on how to project rock-ânâ-roll, I guess.
GINSBURG: Any projections for rock ân roll?
PLANT: Yeah. Do it good. And do it so nobodyâs going to forget itâand thatâs what I say to themâplay like fuck and people will never stop talkinâ about you.
GINSBURG: We are so stepped in technology. Someone can listen to a studio record, then go to a concert by the same group and expect the music to come out the same.
PLANT: Well, I donât know whether they do or not. I know that I go about with the voice, which is the hardest thing to sort of play around with and yet the most enjoyable, obviously, because Iâm a singer. I have my little machines that I like to play with. I like to make my voice sound like a piece of tin thatâs been stuck on the side of a chair, lifted up as far as it would go and then let to springââdoooiiinng.â I like to make it into a piece of metal from time to time and I can do it, both with the movements in my throat and with, uh, my little toys⌠So I like to take it beyond just a voice, more into the realms of a weapon.
GINSBURG: A weapon?
PLANT: A sharp spear.
GINSBURG: Do you care at all what the concert critics and writers get printed up in the papers?
PLANT: Not really, because the proof is in the pudding. I mean the people who come are the people who care.
GINSBURG: And the people come!
PLANT: And if they come and I see a smile on their faces, I know that itâs all right.
#led zeppelin#robert plant#classic rock#jimmy page#ledzep#70s#interview#history#robert plant interview#70s rock
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ă  this is a total, 100% âwoe-is-meâ negativity post, so be warned. I try not to post anything too personal or emotional on this blog, but the truth is, I need an outlet right now. I donât have a personal tumblr anymore, and tbh, I donât really want to put this on FB where all my IRL friends would see it. Iâm putting this under a read more so yâall can scroll on by and not worry about it. But also, itâs here, so it ainât a secret. If you want to watch a train wreck, read on.
Âť Âť Âť The moral of this story is going to be that for the next couple of days, Iâm gonna be less present on the dash, and just tending to my drafts ( along with developing my OC more because he brings me joy rn ).
Wow, you clicked the Read More. Arenât you a sick fuck ? Just kidding, youâre my kind of people. I hope your popcorn is ready. If are you continuing, Iâd like to give you some disclaimers :Â literally none of the following is directed at any one individual or group of individuals. There is not an ounce of guilt thatâs meant to be transferred. This is 100% my own bullshit as Iâm dealing with me. Iâm going to complain about RP, but please keep that in mind ;Â this is all about my own insecurities.
To start, everyone is dealing with a lot right now, letâs not have any delusions about that. Shit in general fucking blows. Personally speaking, I donât like talking about my emotions or the things truly bothering me. I guarantee that if I ever whine about something, then thereâs something much deeper thatâs effecting me. As of right now, Iâve identified both :Â the surface issue that Iâm taking my frustrations out on, and the deeper problems thatâs the root of whatâs going on.
So letâs start with the the deep shit, shall we ? Thisâll give better insight as to why Iâm struggling mentally with RP at the moment. Iâm the kind of person IRL thatâs a loner. Iâm in my 30â˛s, but Iâve never had a serious relationship in my life. I donât have a lot of friends ( but I do have a couple of really good ones ). I tend to just deal with shit on my own. I live alone, I take care of myself. And honestly, all of that is ok because thereâs something magical that I have had : my career. I moved to the other side of the country at a young age by myself with one goal, and that was to edit film trailers. And goddamn it, in April 2019, I DID IT ! I mean, Iâve been in that industry since day 1, climbing the ladder, but last April, I was promoted to editor. It was the greatest feeling in the world. I still had a long way to go to prove myself, but I felt like my whole life was worth it for the place that I made it to. Well, this past March ( yes, just 2 weeks shy of my 1st year mark as an editor ) I was laid off due to COVID. Now, Iâve gotten a couple of odd editing jobs here and there, but Iâm floundering. I suddenly canât pay my bills, I canât even buy proper groceries, but worst of all ? I just sit around all day. Alone. In my apartment. With no sense of direction or purpose. I feel like I lost a whole part of myself ; like I lost who I am as a human being. Itâs this terrible, downward spiral of feeling like I donât even exist anymore. Like who am I without the one thing I identified myself as ? Do I even matter anymore ? My friends are still working, but Iâm.... not. I may not have been the pretty one, the witty one, the interesting one, or the loved one, but goddamnit, I was the independent one. I didnât live a glamorous life, but I have a sweet apartment in a great area all by myself, and traveled, and treated myself to expensive clothing. I lived that Destiny Childâs Independent Woman life. And now ? Itâs a big deal trying to decide if I can afford to buy cheese for my turkey sandwiches.
So letâs move this sob story onto the superficial, dumbass things that are bothering me. Like thatâs real world shit right ? But I donât like dwelling on real world problems. I handle it and move on. Yet my heart still hurts so I tend to focus on something less important as my excuse. Enter literally the only other thing I have going on rn RP. Man, I have the best writing partners and the best threads, let me tell you ! When I say I love my dash, Iâm not just blowing smoke up yâallâs asses. I mean it. Sometimes I just sit and stare at my drafts in awe. But lately, my brain is frustrated. See, Iâm not the Indie RP type. I canât deal with a thousand different threads and interact with everyone, as much as Iâd like to. My brain just doesnât work that way. I prefer to live in my small corner and have a partner with whom our muses are deeply developed. Like full on universes with stories about different parts of their relationshipâs timeline and with NPCs and fucking pinterest boards and shit. Yâall know what Iâm talking about. A partner who tags me in shit because they see a post on their dash and it made them think of me. A partner who can just send my muse random asks about shit because theyâre bored. A partner I can throw wild fangirly comments at in DMs at all hours of the day because something inspired me, or something made me think of our muses. You see, I had it once. On my Dean Winchester account, I met someone and our muses man... we didnât plan that shit but they clicked and we were inseparable. It was so amazing. But I canât write Dean anymore and even though Iâm still very good friends with that mun IRL, they donât write anymore. I feel like Iâve been chasing that high ever since, but itâs just gone.
Like, I just did that positivity night, right ? I really needed the boost and nothing helps like giving out compliments, and it worked. Believe me. I was so tickled by the responses and getting to force myself to think of wonderful things about my partners ( which is easy to do, lbr ). But a couple of people went above and beyond and sent it in as a request for someone else. God, how fucking cool ? But then my stupid brain takes over and reminds me that I donât have a partner going out of their way like that for me. And god, what a selfish thing to think, right ? This is all good vibes, and I genuinely wanted to make other people smile, but I canât help but have half my mind say âbut what about me ?â. So lame. Especially since I never ask for help so who is even gonna know that need the pick me up ? Ugh. But Iâm too chickenshit to ever send someone a meme to make them compliment me. Hell, Iâm too chickenshit to like peopleâs posts when they ask for mains. A voice in my head is like ânah man, keep that shit for other, more qualified candidates. You have good threads, calm down.â But I dunno, sometimes I feel like I have a ton of threads, but thatâs all they are ? The fillers ? Sure, itâs great writing, but it doesnât go anywhere. Itâs not meant to build anything for people, itâs just to give them something to do to pass the time while theyâre building universes with their mains.
Could I be more selfish ? Like really. But thatâs the thing :Â itâs my desolate feeling of complete lack of purpose in life bleeding into the one thing Iâm trying to keep my mind distracted with. Do I hate RP ? No. Do I resent anyone on my dash ? Fuck no ! I love all of you and Iâm incredibly grateful for anyone that interacts with me. But sometimes I see some magical friendships here and I just... I want that, man. I miss it. I want purpose again, in any facet of my life. I want to be excited again ;Â about ANYTHING. Iâm tired of bobbing around like a cork on the sea of life.Â
I wish I meant more.   ă
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January Kitchen Sink Check In
This is mostly for me, because Iâm trying to become a better person this year, for varying definitions of the term âbetterâ, and I like to see my progress laid out all organized like. It helps me move forward. So Iâm gonna go through my Body/Mind/Money goals for January and note how I did and what Iâm going to do moving forward!
BODY
Working Out:Â
My two work out goals for the end of the year are to 1) be doing yoga semi-regularly and 2) be working out four days a week reliably, including the yoga. Iâm working on easing myself into these (and all) habits, because I donât want to overwhelm myself and give up on everything, so my goal for January was to work out one day a week. And I worked out *drumroooooooll* NONE! NOT A ONCE. I donât have an excuse for this. Part of it was stress, part of it was depression, part of it was sheer laziness. I promise myself Iâm gonna work out at least once a week in February, but also shoot for the two times a week that is the February Goal.Â
Food:Â
I have several overall food goals for the year. One is to give up soda near completely, or at least to break my addiction to it. The others are to start planning meals and eat less meat. For January I wanted to drink only two sodas a day (20oz max). I managed that 23 days out of 31. In looking at the calendar you can reliably match the days I failed to the days that were extremely stressful or anxiety ridden. I have a very bad habit in those moments of throwing up my hands and deciding that Iâm a failure anyway so nothing matters. Thatâs definitely a mental tick to keep an eye on over the next few months as my job no doubt just gets more and more stressful. The other goals I did okay with. I decided to plan one meatless meal a week. New recipes I made in January were:Â
Black bean soup
Moroccan sweet potatoes
Spinach lasagna
Black bean & sweet potato enchiladas
Do recommend most of them. The lasagna had way too much cinnamon in it, which was kind of weird. If I make that recipe again Iâm gonna quarter the amount. But I might just find a different veggie lasagna to make.Â
For February I want to drop the soda to one a day (12oz max), and start to plan to make two meals a week. Iâm doing okay with meat, but I could for sure do better. It helps that I have started making THE WORLDâS BEST SANDWICHES for lunch. Probably just gonna eat those forever instead of ordering out Huey Magooâs or whatever. (The sandwich is hummus, cucumber, and feta on toasted Good Seed bread. Try it!)
Doctor Things:
Uff. I need to figure out the CPAP issues and the chest pain issues. I absolutely despised the first mask they sent me for the CPAP. It gave me panic episodes and I was ripping it off IN MY SLEEP. Insurance refused me a new mask until April, but my doctor came in like an angel with a sample version of a different type of mask to try. This one is...better. Iâm still not comfortable in it and itâs not appreciably helping my sleep. People keep telling me itâs going to change my life, but that has not happened yet. On the other hand I have friends whoâve tried to make them work for YEARS and never did, so Iâm wary of this whole process, but still trying.Â
I had a sort of fraught meeting with my cardiologist last week. My chest pain symptoms had been getting better as of October, but with the change in my job Iâve back slid almost entirely. I had a 36 hour period of chest pain two weeks ago. I go whole nights having every heart attack symptom in slow motion, but doing nothing about it because I canât afford for the ER to tell me Iâm fine five times a month. I cried when she asked me why I didnât go to a hospital when that happened. I feel so helpless all of the time and Iâm certain Iâm going to die any day now, even though my heart is technically physically fine. Can you anxiety yourself into a heart attack? I THINK YOU CAN. She did tell me to try to speak to the psychiatrist again about anxiety medication. The last time I tried the woman I saw didnât want to prescribe me anything. She told me to work on my sleep and come back. Welp! The cardiologist said that if that happens this time sheâll write a note telling her to prescribe me something. Weâll see. I need to try to make that appt this month.Â
MIND
Therapy:
My therapist thinks Iâve done really well over the last year with working on myself and said out loud that she thinks Iâm better at dealing with some things and am in a good position to move forward. But Iâm so stressed right now that I just feel like Iâve fallen apart again. Weâre meant to start on EMDR this week, but Iâm going to have to put a pause on it so I can talk about how Iâm at like, the lowest point of my life, which she will be very supportive of and then probably remind me that if we could just get to the EMDR and work with the older traumas this might not feel so dire. Iâm just, on the struggle bus and too tired to do anything but freak out about that.Â
Writing:Â
I have so may creative goals this year! Too many probably! I should put some back! My creative goals for the year are:
Complete a rough draft of AMLD (10,000 words a month)
Complete and mail out the Girls Who Date the Universe chapbook
Complete and mail out any remaining art for people who helped me with the car fund
Work on poetry and short fictions (Monster Story?)
Actually check in to @gywo every month (10 days a month goal)
My creative goals for January were to write 10,000 words on AMLD, work on the extra poems for GWDTU, and send the remaining postcards from the car fund. And uh...look. I did work on writing. I worked on the chapbook layout and editing pieces that needed to be edited/replaced, because there are several. I did also work on the outline for AMLD, but didnât write new words on it. Not anywhere 10,000 of them at any rate.Â
The owing people art thing is just...it fucks me up, man. I have learned a huge lesson between the car fund and the patreon. I get so in my head about how these people deserve beautiful things and then I tell myself Iâm not capable of making things worthy of them and then I put off doing the thing because I want to put off letting them down and then it just spirals from there. ALL THE WHILE I AM FOR SURE LETTING THEM DOWN. I realize this is both unhealthy and unprofessional. Itâs why one of my goals this year is to clear all of this once and for all so that I can square myself away with everyone and try not to end up here in the future.Â
So, the January Goals now get rolled up into the February Goals, which leaves the new list for the month at:Â
10,000 words AMLD
Complete extra poems for GWDTU
Send postcards from car fund
Complete layout for Boston chapbook for car fund
I did check in for GYWO.Â
Future Plans:
Part of letting off the pressure for the now for me is always about planning for the future. Not like, the actual future, Iâm not starting a 401k, letâs not go nuts. But for something that is one step forward. In my notes for my year goals this is all about moving back to Boston. I need to set a date for it. I need to save money for it. I need to keep my job until after Iâve done it. But now I think this part needs to include notes about my job itself and the ways I can either move forward with it or move away from it once and for all.Â
I talked to Lisa and Kait at the beginning of the year about the moving plan, and now I just need to talk to my apartment complex to see if it would be feasible to extend the lease to December or February without paying an exorbitant amount in rent each month. If rent ends up being more than $2k/mo for the extension then Iâm just going to have to have to wait until June 2022. This frustrates me, because I hate not being able to just follow through with decisions once Iâve made them, but patience is another thing Iâm working on eternally. My goal for February is figure out money stuff well enough and talk to complex and set a timeline.Â
Work is. Wow. Itâs awful right now. I still have my job, which takes up much of my days, but because of re-org Iâm also having to learn a whole new job which would also take up much of my day. I canât not learn this job, because the person who used to do it is in another department now too, so thereâs no one to get the work done if I donât learn to do it. But I also canât do both. I CANâT DO BOTH. An issue popped up last week with my job that literally brought my ulcer back. I asked my boss for help with it and she sent me a message at one point saying she wanted to cry about it. So like. She knows now, right? She knows I canât do both jobs?? BUT THEREâS NO ONE ELSE TO DO IT SO I GUESS I JUST GET TO SLOWLY KILL MYSELF. Iâm just so frustrated, and angry that these decisions get made without taking the people in them into account, and of course anxious and miserable. Iâm currently dreading work in a way I havenât since I was in text perms. Itâs real bad. So I have to find a way to make it work or find a way out.Â
My February approach to that is to finish this Love It or Leave It book and see if I canât divine where my true motivation lies, and also to research library school. I kind of would rather not go back to school. Not because I wouldnât spend my entirely life in school if I could. I WOULD. But because itâs expensive and time intensive and thereâs no promise my life will be better after itâs over. But every job I think I want pretty much requires that masters, so. Weâll look into it at least.Â
MONEY
Eating Out:
During the pandemic, one of my money sinks became DoorDash. I never used it before, because it costs literally twice as much as just going to get the food. (Also because I kind of like eating in restaurants alone. Ah, one day again I hope!) But the more afraid I became of the outside world, the less inclined I was to go into a restaurant to pick up take out, so Iâve had it brought to me. And I need to cut that shit out! I have food at home! My goal for January was to order out only 4 times a week. I managed this for three of the weeks, but when I blew it it was definitely those weeks at the very beginning and very end of the month where I was super stressed. The goal in February is to only order out 3 times a month.
Savings:
I need to open a high yield savings account. Iâve had the starting money for the move just sitting in my bank account making me no extra money for like, four months. The latest reason I havenât moved it over is that Iâm worried Iâm going to owe a lot in taxes this year because of the partial unemployment I got. Hopes are that since it was a work share the taxes were taken out ahead of time, but I do not trust the government with my money as far as I can throw them, so. Iâll do my taxes this month and finally know for sure. And then I WILL move the rest of the money into a high yield savings account. I WILL.Â
Also, every time my credit union savings hits a grand, Iâll move $500 of that over into the high yield account to put toward moving expenses.Â
Budget:
I keep meaning to sit down and work out my new budget for 2021. Iâm bringing home a little bit less in my paycheck because I changed my health insurance, and Iâm also, of course, trying to save as much as I can ahead of moving so I donât put anything on credit cards. (Iâm doing so well paying those down!) This means I need to save everything I can and not spend money on stupid frivolous stuff. Iâm not buying clothing like I did in the before times, but I AM spending too much money at Target still, because the app lets me just peruse any dumb idea I have and then pick it up that day! What a disaster! So, I really need to work something out. Or at least, I need to check my bank accounts more often and keep tabs on how much is actually going out. I have a bad out-of-sight-out-of-mind habit when it comes to bank accounts. Just another piece of me to try to cure this year.
And thatâs it for January. Iâm now late to bed because Iâve been working on this post for an hour and a half. Working on my sleep is also a goal, but weâll see how exercise and the cpap handle that. Til next month!
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The Diary of Ella Lamaire â Entry # 1 â April 16th, 1978
Dear Diary,
After many months of preparations, I am finally bidding farewell to Saint Denis. Today, I am moving on to a new Chapter of my life and I can hardly contain my excitement for everything in the world that awaits me!
Mother is heavy-hearted as I knew she would be, though she remains empathetic of my situation. She helped me pack the last of my belongings into the cart last night, so I could leave at first dawn, before step-father made another big fuss about my leaving. We said our goodbyes and I promised her over and over that I would write as often as I could to end her tears. We have never been apart for more than a few days. I am anxious, yet hopeful. For the both of us.Â
I know things are going to turn out great!
My goal for today is to travel safely to the small town of Rhodes.
I plan to take the longer, scenic route, along the Lannahechee River around to the East side of Flat Iron Lake. Mother suggests I stop at the Brathwaite Manor to see the apple orchard. She and Father had visited a few years back and they returned home with some beautiful fresh red apples. I remember her making the most delicious pie with them! Before I do that though, I want to take a brief intermission at Bolder Glade. The ruins of an old church and the vestiges of a civil war battlefield are something I absolutely must see!
The house I am renting for the night is just a short cart ride North of the town of Rhodes, a lovely little farmhouse just across the river from the Bayou. I will need to pick up the keys from the Post Office in town before I make my way there. I would also love to visit the local saloon for a drink too. If the light will allow it. The days are getting longer and warmer, however, the last thing I want to do is get lost in the middle of nowhere and not be able to follow any directions or read my map. The thought alone gives me the shivers!
All shall be fine. I will end my day with a calm, picturesque ride alongside the Kamassa River and then finally the farmhouse to rest after a long day.
I cannot wait!
Until next time,
Ella xo
#red dead redemption#red dead online#red dead online rp#rdo#rdo rp#red dead online roleplay#rdo roleplay
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