Page 7 of Flowers To Give

“C’mon, you totally did! From kindergarten to the fifth grade even.”

“Well,” Jeremy is defensive, saying as a reaction, “You did always make me the wife when we played house.”

“Pfft, you liked it,” Clark accuses.

“Sure,” Jeremy scoffs, already exhausted by this conversation.

Another momentary silence and then Clark is bursting out with, “And you kissed me in the eighth grade.”

“Stop,” he warns, turning his head but not daring to look behind him, “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s annoying.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it I’m trying to do then?”

“Get under my skin by saying I kissed you when we both know it was one hundred percent the other way around.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You had my back up against a tree!” Jeremy explodes, about to reel around when he thinks better of it. Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and clenching the reins with the other, he says much calmer, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Sure, it’s whatever you say.”

“Aw, c’mon, that’s no fun.”

“This isn’t supposed to be fun,” Jeremy snaps at him, “I’m out here to work. For you.”

“And a fine job you’re doing. Tell me, when do we get a blow?”

“Soon,” Jeremy pauses and then adds, “Just remember to lean forward in your saddle.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Clark sounds actually irritated. Jeremy triumphantly grins to himself.

There is only a half mile longer uphill before they’re cresting the first stretch of the mountain and entering the brush speckled field. Jeremy leads Clark to the watering hole beside the juniper trees through the thin layer of leftover snow, the actor following as the cowboy gets off his saddle and takes Asher to the water’s edge. Bunny joins her and they drink thirstily from the hole. Jeremy does the same, getting the canteen off the saddle.

Clark takes off his sunglasses, reaching into his jacket to put them away and pulling out a flask. He takes a swig before catching Jeremy eyeing him and offering the alcohol to him, “Want some?”

Jeremy looks off, shaking his head, “I’m working.”

“C’mon,” Clark eggs him on, “I won’t tell the boss.”

Actually considering taking the shot, Jeremy reaches for it without thinking twice and takes a generous swig. He chases the whiskey with water and nods to Clark as a meek thanks. He eyes Jeremy with a smirk and takes the flask back, saying over the mouth, “I was just jerking you around earlier. Sorry.”

Jeremy shrugs.

Clark squints his eyes and loses his smile, “You always this quiet?”

“No.”

“Huh,” Clark tries on another smile, gesturing as he says, “We’re old pals! Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Jeremy lets out a short lived laugh at that, shaking his head and looking away.

Clark’s brow scrunches, confused, “What?”

Thinking about actually telling the guy how he feels, Jeremy decides to keep his mouth shut instead. Clark reads his expression, chuckling as he steps back and points, “Oh. You’re still hung up about high school.”

“Of course not,” Jeremy looks away, lying again, “High school didn’t mean anything.”

“Then what’s up with the cold shoulder?”

“I don’t owe it to you to be friendly. I don’t owe you anything,” Jeremy puts his shoulders back, eyes flicking to Clark with newfound intensity.