Somehow I’d morphed into Katharine Hepburn. All that was missing was a “dahling.”
“Soph and I are checking out venues in the city, so maybe we can tack on a visit?” Josh said.
My stomach dropped at the casual reveal. I knew exactly what he was implying, but I could tell Owen didn’t have a clue.I wished Cedar would pick up on the absolutely shitty vibes and take off running, so we could end the torture.
“Hold on, you probably haven’t heard the news,” Josh continued. The man looked downright triumphant.
I forced myself to smile pleasantly as the slow-motion car wreck played out in front of me. There was nothing I could do but cling to Owen as he processed what was to come.
“News?” Owen tipped his head.
I held my breath and stared at him.
“I asked Sophie to marry me. We’re engaged.”
It only took a half second for Owen to collect himself.
“Oh, no way. Congrats,” he replied quickly. The hitch in his voice could easily be written off as surprise, but I knew that it was deeper than that. I gave him a squeeze.
“Yeah, thanks. It’s all happening really fast. Too fast.” Josh laughed. “But you get it, I’m sure. You’re next, bro.”
I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to push back. I giggled like Josh had actually said something funny and gazed at Owen. “Oh, I don’t know about that. We’re having so much fun right now that we’re not even thinking that far ahead. We’re sort of in this crazy, passionate haze. Just enjoying each other, you know? We’re lucky we made it out of the apartment today.” I winked at him.
Josh frowned. “Oh.”
“Speaking of, we should get back to Cedar,” Owen said as he bobbed his head toward the incredibly patient horse.
“Right, of course,” Josh said as he backed away. “I’ll have Soph reach out the next time we’re in the city. She’s got your number, right?”
Owen cleared his throat. “Not sure. We’ll figure it out. Take care.”
Josh touched two fingers to his forehead in a salute. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”
A parting shot. The three of us watched him walk away.
“You okay?” I asked quietly.
Owen let out a long sigh as he untangled himself from me. “Yup. It’s fine. Let’s do this.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I pushed.
“Nothing to say.”
He was wrong—there wasplentyof subtext to dissect—but I knew I wouldn’t be able to pry anything else out of him. Thankfully, we had the rest of my lesson to focus on.
After fitting me with a helmet, we went through an indoor introduction to basics like posture, steering, and stopping. By the time Owen walked us out of the barn and into the sunshine, we were both fully focused on the mechanics of our lesson and not the run-in with Josh.
I tried to memorize every bit of the sensation of riding, so I could re-create it on the page.
“Where are your eyes, Brooke?” Owen asked. “He’s veering a little.”
I’d learned that everything I did while riding Cedar telegraphed intent, including something as subtle as where Ilooked. It was overwhelming to realize that minuscule, even accidental behaviors were enough to impact our ride.
Which was more of an incredibly slow saunter than a real ride.
“There’s so much to think about.” I looked down at him. “Is it crazy to say that learning to ride is like learning to play pickleball?”
He considered it. “I guess there are parallels?”
