“I won’t rest until I know.” My head was sloshy, and I leaned it against his shoulder the moment he got into the truck, my eyes suddenly incredibly hard to keep open.
“I know you won’t.”
“I bet it’s Jeremy. He seemed like a Jeremy. Jeremy Bearemy.”
—
I woke up to Denver trying his best to lift me out of the truck. I flailed on instinct, nearly causing him to drop me, whichwas enough to convince him I was better off walking. Still though, he slung an arm around my waist for the short walk to my front door.
My dad was sitting in his recliner watching TV, and he looked up at us, then double-checked the time. “You’re home earlier than I expected.”
“Yeah…” Denny hooked his thumb toward me. “This one needs to go to bed.”
“All right, well, guess this means I get to go to bed early, too.” Dad clapped his hands together, practically jumping for joy to not be obligated to stay up late waiting for us.
We stumbled—rather, I stumbled,and Denver kept me upright—down the hall and into my dark bedroom. The instant I heard the door click shut behind us, I threw my arms around Denver and kissed him, walking him backward until he fell onto the bed. Climbing to straddle him, I slid my hands up his shirt until he grabbed my wrists and stopped me with a heaving breath.
“Blair, baby, not now.”
“But this was the plan for tonight, right? Quick stop at the party, then we’d have time alone.”
“Right.That was before you decided to shoot tequila.” He sat up, removing me from his lap. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”
I stuck my bottom lip out, letting him pull my shirt off, then lying back so he could wiggle the tight jeans off me. The room spun wildly, and I swallowed down the indigestion rising in my throat.
“I love you,” I murmured as he unclasped my bra. My head shoved through the neck hole of a baggy T-shirt, and my heavy arms struggled with the sleeves. “I can’t wait to move away from this place in a few months and have our own apartment. Just the two of us all the time.”
“Yeah…” he said quietly. Even in my drunken state, I could tell he was lacking any sort of excitement in his voice.
“Aren’t you stoked to have privacy? No more long drives in your truck so we can hook up. No more sneaking you into my room at night.”
“Bear, let’s talk about this in the morning.” He slipped his own shirt over his head and unbuckled his jeans while I stared in disbelief.
“Why?”
“I love you. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Helping me into my bed, he tucked the covers around me, but I refused—shoving them away and sitting upright to look at him. When he turned the overhead light off, I found the switch for my bedside lamp, turning it on.
“What is there to talk about? Just agree that it’s going to be amazing to live together in the city.”
“Blair.”
“Denver. Give me five seconds of fucking honesty.”
“I’m not moving with you. I can’t…” He reached for my hand, as if it was going to fucking help the way my chest was imploding. “I can’t leave Mom.”
Looking up at the yellow-green glowing stars on my bedroom ceiling, the world was spinning even faster than it was a few seconds ago. Heart racing out of control, I looked at him, tears welling in my eyes, and vomited straight tequila in his lap.
Denver
(seventeen years old)
On a Sunday morning in late June, we should’ve been running slack—the overflow and preliminary runs for the main rodeo performance. Or we should’ve been doing chores around the ranch. Hell, I would’ve even preferred if we were heading off to church for the first time in history.
Instead, I leaned against the kitchen counter, buttoning the sleeves of my shirt and watching Blair delicately brush out my mom’s hair. Her own was pulled back in a twist, held secure with approximately one hundred pins. But Mom’s hair was barely chin-length and thin, and Blair used a single clip with a blue flower on it to keep the wispy strands out of her face.
Although I couldn’t recall seeing either of them ever wear makeup before, Blair swiped pink stain across Mom’s cheeks. And I hated to admit that it gave her more life—color she’d lacked since she wasn’t out in the garden every day. Then she carefully added a coat of mascara and a light shade of lipstick, waiting for Mom to roll her lips together so she could touch itup.
“Beautiful.” Blair smiled, standing back to admire her work.
