Angelina
? Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton
5 years ago
“What’s wrong, babe?” Jess says, hiding her smile behind a margarita the size of Texas. “You’ve barely touched your semi-annual existential crisis.”
I glare at my best friend.
“That’s rich coming from the woman who’s happily married with a three-month-old baby at home.” I swipe my finger through the delicate swirl of frosting on my red velvet cupcake and lick it off. “What’s it like to live my dream?”
“Honestly? My nipples hurt constantly, I haven’t slept more than four hours at a time in months, and I’d kill to eat spicy food again, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“You left out the part where your husband fucks like a stallion and looks like every woman’s fantasy.”
She smiles. “Yeah, there’s that, too.”
I sigh. “I really need to get laid.”
She sets her glass down on the coffee table and repositions herself to face me. “Ok. Spill. What’s going on with you?”
I’m thirty-one years old and single with nothing to show for my life but this modest apartment in Denver, a veterinary license, and a caffeine addiction some might call concerning.
My dating history is just one manchild after another, all operating under the guise of wanting a future, until I realize what they want is a mother, not a partner.
But I don’t say any of that. I just shrug. “Does Wilder have any hot friends?”
“I’ll do you one better. He has a hot brother. Two of them, in fact. But Jaxon’s a bit young for you.”
I rip the bottom off the cupcake and sandwich it to the top, then devour the thing like I haven’t eaten in weeks. I’d kill to have my pussy eaten with this much enthusiasm. “Single?”
“Yep.” She pops the P for emphasis.
I bring my straw to my lips to wash down the sweetness, narrowing my eyes at her. “So, what’s wrong with him?”
“Ok, hear me out. He doesn’t have any glaring red flags, but he’s really committed to his job.”
“Ok…” I draw out that single word. “What does he do?”
“He’s a horse trainer and riding instructor, but he used to be a bronc rider back in his heyday.”
I don’t even try to hold back my snort. “Cowboy isthered flag, babe.”
She hits me with a backhand. “He’s the exception, not the rule.”
I’ve dealt with my fair share of cowboys in my line of work. I’ve been called out to countless farms and ranches to tend to injured horses and livestock, and every single cowboy I’ve met has looked down on me like I didn’t earn my place in this career.
I purse my lips and shake my head. “No thanks.”
“Just meet him.”
“I’ll pass.”
Her expression turns from hopeful to guilty in a blink.
“Jess…. what did you do?”
She checks her phone and downs the rest of her drink. “Come on. That’s enough pre-gaming. Our ride is here.”
