“I have a lesson and it’s noon. I need to tack my horse up and get ready,” Betty said.
“Bets, aren’t you hungover?”
I stood and sorted through my underwear drawer. “Yeah, but… it’s fine.”
We’d been partying for two days. The first night was the afterparty and the after-afterparty. Then, we took my brother’s yacht and partied more. I was so tired, I fell asleep before Mary finished brushing her teeth last night. It didn’t stop me from waking her at three AM, but it did give me a little strength to keep going. We’d fallen back to our slumber as if blissfully unaware of the crazy response to Mary’s career win and the kiss I laid on her because of it.
Mary lay there, face covered with the duvet. Only her feet were visible.
“I have an Olympic bid to prepare for. I know mygirlfriend is super famous and just won this big competition, but I gotta stop being lazy and get back to work.”
Mary popped her head out as I pulled on a sports bra.
“Oh, shit! The Olympics are next year.”
“Ja!” I giggled, smacking her playfully with a pillow. “And I’m trying to make it. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I must go.”
Mary smiled, “Okay, if you must. But I’d rather rot in bed with you all day.”
I leaned over, granting her a small kiss. “Let me do my three hours of workout and then I will be back to rot in bed with you.”
“I’ll… I’ll come with,” Mary said.
“Oh, Marit, you don’t-”
“Rubbish! I want to come with you, älskling.”
“Fine,” I agreed, heading to find a pair of full seats in my closet.
Mary joined me, sorting through the duffle she brought. “What do I wear to this?”
I snickered, pulling on my breeches. “Jeans. A t-shirt.”
She shook her head at me. “Not the cool, weird-butt trousers?”
“Full seat breeches,” I said. “I have about two-dozen pair. You want a pair? You got ‘em. Leave my whites alone. Those are competition only. You may be less of a klutz than I am, but nothing good can come of white breeches.”
“Not pink herringbone?” She joked, poking fun at my choice.
“No. I think I only have purple left.”
“I’ll stick to jeans,” Mary acquiesced.
“That’s fine. They make your ass look great. No complaints.”
“Am I really just a piece of meat to you, älskling?” Mary asked, barely able to play straight.
“No, but if you’re going to be my barn bitch for the day, I’dbe okay with it happening while you wear those dark jeans I find potentially dangerous.”
Mary shook her head and dressed. We slipped into shoes in the mudroom and bopped to the barn to grab my mount.
“Hold him,” I handed a schoolmaster to Mary. “This is Juneau.”
Mary nervously took the lead rope while Juneau tried to eat her hair. I burst out laughing watching her keep one hand on the lead and avoid him with the other.
“He’s a gelding. He’s dumb as a brick, Mar, but he’s no threat. I don’t think he’s ever bit anyone in his whole twenty-year-long life.”
“Ah,” Mary played it cool. “So, is this who you’re taking to the Olympics?”
