Me: That bitch is greedy.
Kess: Every friend group has their lovable slut, and I’m so glad that you’re ours.
Me: You’re welcome.
Me: If you’re going to have people work on your house at o’dark thirty, at least make sure that they’re hot.
Kess: Stop trolling for ass on my construction site.
Kess: It’s unbecoming.
Me: Sweet love, I don’t troll.
Me: I walk outside in my 3-inch inseams and God does the rest.
Kess: Wait. Are you holding out on me?
Kess: Where are my 3-inch inseams?
Me: In your dreams, Mr. Fancy Lawyer Man. In. Your. Dreams.
Kess: Rude.
Kess: I’m glad we’ll be neighbors soon.
Me: I’m not leaving my blinds open, you perv.
Kess: What if I ask nicely?
Me:
Lies,gossip, and more lies.
The real bitch of it was that I’d allowed our witty banter to fester into a sad little crush, which had now tragically snowballed into—gulp—love, possibly?
Pathetic.
I blamed this whole mess on Emery, Kess’s high school best friend. Two years ago, he had purchased the land next to my cousin’s wildlife preserve. Woody, of course, started a fight with the city boy, then promptly fell in love with him, and now they’re married. Before they were even engaged, Em’s family and friends folded us into their circle. Kess and I’d had instant chemistry, even though we were opposites in practically every way.
Kess was beautiful, like a vaguely European model with an old money haircut, and I was a scrawny, long-haired cowboy with a mostly secondhand wardrobe. Hell, he and Emery’d made their first million before they were old enough to buy the alcohol to celebrate it, and as of this morning, I had exactly twenty-seven dollars in my checking account. Kess was semiretired in his late thirties, while I was twenty-five and still trying to figure myself out.
Compared to what Kess brought to the table, my GED-earning, Wrangler-wearing ass barely even had a table, let alone anything to bring to it. Which is why I’d decided to pine after him from afar—a plan that woulda worked if Emery hadn’t gone and gifted Kess a section of his property a few months ago.Jackass.
I take that back. Emery was a great guy, and Woody loved him something fierce. Still, I now lived directly across from Kess’s architectural wet dream in a tiny cabin on my cousin’s preserve, shoveling shit from exotic game in exchange for a good wage and free rent.
Which is why I had been contemplating avoiding the housewarming in the first place.
I rechecked my phone and couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he missed me. Like I said,pathetic.
Fine. I’d go, but I was avoiding Mama Bash’s sangria.
There wasn’t any time to overthink it because Majorie headed my way, eyes wide with worry.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, reaching for her.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She pointed to my phone. “I’m sorry if I’ve kept you from anything.”
Marjorie, a very tall and very sweet trans girl from the after-school youth group I helped oversee, reminded me a lot of myself when I was her age, even though I identified as cis and gay. We both struggled against the belief that any extra attention was automatically a bother to the person showing us attention. I guiltily slipped my phone into my back pocket and then pulled her in for a hug.
