We just did it all at a distance. The exact same distance we’d kept since the day I’d moved into his condo.
Well, maybe that wasn’t right. That distance didn’t feel the same as before, though. Now that we’d slept together again, the platonic arm’s length between us felt like a canyon. It felt like miles of space that didn’t belong there. The attraction was stronger than ever, and fighting it felt about as natural as fighting the urge to breathe.
But I kept fighting it because I didn’t want to use him to get over Selena. The only thing I wanted more than him as a lover was him as a friend, and I was afraid to lose that.
So… I stuck to my guns, and we stayed platonic. The day we agreed to cool it, we went kayaking. We hiked the next day. Cooked together that evening. Chilled on the deck with some weed and conversation. We batted around the idea of revisiting the farm and going for another trail ride. After all, getting backin the saddle had made us both remember how much we’d enjoyed riding. Through it all, if I squinted hard enough, we were almost as relaxed and comfortable as we’d been before we’d tumbled into bed.
Almost.
I didn’t miss the way his eyes would sometimes meet mine before darting away. Or the faintest hints of sadness or hurt when he didn’t think I was looking.
Lying alone in the same bed where we’d slept the other night, I knew I’d made a mistake. I just didn’t know if that mistake was finding out what it was like to sleep with Jesse, or putting a stop to it.
“Fuck,” I whispered into the stillness. I rubbed my eyes and sighed, knowing I was in for a long night of tossing, turning, and thinking. I was pretty sure that no matter how much I rolled everything around in my head between now and sunrise, I wouldn’t be any closer to a conclusion when I woke up.
No, I wasn’t ready for something post-Selena.
But I wasn’t so sure I was ready to lose Jesse either.
And how would I even know when I was ready to move on from her with him or anyone else?
Jesus Christ. What the hell am I supposed to do now?
CHAPTER 18
JESSE
The cabin had a firepit set apart from the deck and house, and after dinner one evening, I built a small fire. As it crackled pleasantly, I settled onto one of the benches beside the pit and gazed out at the lake.
This place really was gorgeous and peaceful. Going back next week was going to feel weird; though my condo wasn’t in downtown Pittsburgh, it was in a fairly busy area. There would be noise again as cars passed by outside and neighbors moved around above and below me.
I’d be home with my cats, though, which would be nice. Chili and Clyde loved my sister, and she’d been keeping me well-stocked with photos and videos since I’d been gone, but I missed them.
I’d still be with Eric, too. We hadn’t talked much about how long he’d be living with me, and I imagined he’d be finding his own place soon. Still, he’d be there for a little while.
Not long enough.
That thought made me fidget on the bench. Yeah, he probably would be moving out sooner than later. I didn’t likethe idea, but what was I going to do? Suggest he stay in my guestroom forever?
Maybe not the guestroom. He could stay in the?—
Noo, no. Didn’t need to go down that road. We were friends and temporary roommates. That was it. The sooner I got that through my head, the better.
What I needed right now was a less depressing train of thought. Fortunately, my mind had been tugging me in a specific direction for the past few days, and now I had a chance to indulge.
I took out my phone and pulled up a new app I’d briefly perused last night. I put in some search parameters, then scrolled the results.
Dutch warmblood gelding. 16.2 hands. 8 years old. Needs an advanced rider.
Swipe left. I did consider myself an advanced rider, but much like it was wise to keep that card close when renting a horse, it could be a red flag when buying one.“Needs an advanced rider”could very often be code for“buckle up because this one is a handful.”
The next to come up was a Hanoverian mare who looked solid and was apparently a very good jumper. Her videos were excellent, too. She moved easily, had no signs of lameness, and she seemed well-mannered.
Unfortunately, she was imported, which bumped her price tag up significantly. I had enough disposable income to pay decent money for a horse, but I didn’t have“imported from Germany with Olympic bloodlines”disposable income.
Swipe left.
Footsteps crunched on gravel, and I looked up to see Eric heading toward the firepit. He wore a gray flannel over his white T-shirt, and that look shouldn’t have been that attractive. Hell, just the sight of him made my heart flutter in ways it shouldn’thave. He was hot, yes, but I just loved his company. I loved being around him and shooting the shit about whatever.
