7. Six - Keegan

Keegan stomped his feet as he came into the barn, kicking the snow off his boots. They’d gotten about six inches. More than what was predicted, but nothing Keegan’s snow tires couldn’t handle.

The last few days had been awkward, to say the least. Izzy’s refusal to acknowledge what had happened between them, again, was getting old. When Keegan tried to bring it up, he got, at best, a snarky reply and a change of subject. Continuing to push resulted in Izzy walking away. Keegan supposed it could have been worse. Izzy hadn’t gotten violent or implied that Keegan had done anything he didn’t want. He just wanted to pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Too bad Keegan couldn’t brush it off as easily. It was embarrassing how often Izzy flashed through his mind during the day. What was he doing? How was he doing? Would he find the unhinged comments on a blog post Keegan was reading funny or infuriating? Did he always bottom, or was he vers? How did he like his coffee? What would he do if Keegan brought him coffee?

It was when Keegan was trying to sleep that the darker thoughts crept in. Had Keegan pushed too hard? Was Izzy’s consent clear enough? Had he been able to consent when he insisted they go without condoms? Did he enjoy what they did, or was he ignoring the whole thing because he was traumatized by it?

And that didn’t include Keegan’s other concerns. Things that were absolutely none of his business. He refused to put a name to the feeling that flared when he thought of Izzy’s typical nightly routine. Drinking and dancing. Picking up a stranger. All the whimpers, pleas, and moans that stranger would hear as he fucked Izzy in a bathroom stall or a motel bed.

Izzy would laugh in Keegan’s face if he knew the direction his brain kept taking him. That, or kick his ass. Izzy had been perfectly clear. He was horny, Keegan was convenient, and what happened between them was “unremarkable.” Keegan needed to accept reality and stop trying to sneak imagined intentions and feelings into what amounted to an ill-conceived hookup. This new obsession wasn’t healthy.

Keegan had already checked on Klaus and finished with Violet when Izzy sailed in. He was dressed like he’d come from outside instead of his apartment, a knit cap pulled low over his curls, his coat zipped to his chin, snow on his boots, and a travel mug clutched in his hands. His cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. Keegan didn’t ask where he’d been or why he was late. That was the last thing either of them needed. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He was just glad Izzy showed up at all.

“Good morning,” he said as Izzy came to a stop nearby, keeping his tone neutral.

Izzy’s eyes flicked to him, then away again. “I ran out of coffee,” he said by way of greeting. “Trust me, you don’t want to deal with me pre-caffeine.”

Keegan wasn’t sure what to say to that, but apparently he didn’t need to say anything because Izzy kept going, his defensiveness increasing.

“Archer’s not here yet with the good stuff, so I went up to the house to steal some from Nick ’cause he’s a coffee snob too, but they went into town this morning, so there wasn’t any made and I had to figure it out myself. Their coffeemaker is fucking complicated, okay?” He was snapping at Keegan by the time he finished.

Keegan blinked, wondering at the hostility after days of being mostly ignored. “Good morning,” he repeated.

Izzy stared at him, then finally said, “Yeah. Right.”

This was off to a fantastic start. “I wasn’t implying anything.”

Izzy didn’t seem to believe him, judging by how hard he rolled his eyes. Keegan wasn’t inclined to defend himself.

“Why do you always assume I’m judging you?” Okay. Maybe he was a little inclined to defend himself. But mostly, he was curious. What the hell was it about him that set Izzy off?

Izzy muttered something that sounded like “Nick the snitch” but continued before Keegan could ask. “You’re the one who thinks I’m a ‘manipulative brat.’”

When the hell had he said that? He racked his brain but came up empty. He’d never found Izzy particularly manipulative. A brat? Yes, clearly. And if he was honest, a bit overzealous about sex, not that it was hurting anyone. He eyed Izzy. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Izzy scowled. His face flushed, and he clenched his coffee closer. “When you drove me home,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes flicking between Keegan and the rest of the barn, like he couldn’t stand to maintain eye contact.

When Keegan drove him home? He tried, but he couldn’t picture a time Izzy was ever in his truck.

Izzy laughed, the sound painfully raspy. “You really don’t remember.” He looked away, but not before Keegan caught the glassiness in his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not important.” He started for Sunny’s stall.

“Isaac,” Keegan said, stopping him in his tracks. “Remind me.”

Izzy’s chest heaved and his shoulders hunched at Keegan’s demand. “When you drove me home,” he said again.

Keegan shook his head, feeling helpless and not liking it. “When did I drive you home? From where?”

“From here,” Izzy said with a half shrug. He opened Sunny’s stall and got teeth bared in his direction, but she held still for him to clip the lead rope to her halter.

Home from the ranch. That meant Izzy was talking about something that had happened years ago. Izzy had taken over the hayloft apartment when Ryan and Micah had gotten married and moved up to the house. That was five years ago. Keegan vividly remembered telling Ryan he’d buy him a new TV if he didn’t have help him move the old, 200-pound monstrosity he’d had up there. Before that, Izzy had rented a room in town. Keegan was surprised he remembered that. Had he driven Izzy there?

“The night Ryan finally got his head out of his ass about Micah,” Izzy supplied when Keegan was silent for too long. “I made you drive me ’cause Micah was busy getting his ass railed by his dream man. You were pissed about it. About me. Not about Micah’s ass.”

Shit. That night? Most of what he remembered about that time was Ryan talking his ear off for hours while he paced the back room of Keegan’s clinic. His best friend had been a wreck. He’d finally admitted that he’d been in love with Micah for years, and he’d convinced himself in the same breath that he couldn’t have him. Keegan had already been having a shitty day —he couldn’t remember why—but he’d agreed to come out to the ranch for dinner to be a buffer between Ryan and temptation.

He’d been more inclined to put temptation in Ryan’s lap and let proximity do the rest, but he hadn’t needed to. Because Izzy had threatened to do the opposite.

Oh.

“I’d spent half the day trying to convince my devastated best friend that he hadn’t missed his chance with the love of his life. I wanted to strangle you when I realized you’d set the whole thing up to make him jealous.”

Izzy went still, one hand gripping Sunny’s mane, the other clutching the lead rope. “It worked,” he said, tone defensive again.

“It worked,” Keegan agreed. “But it didn’t make me want to do you any favors.” It was six years ago. Keegan didn’t have a clear recollection of much of it, but Izzy obviously did. “You asked for a ride— No, you announced I was giving you a ride.”

The back of Izzy’s neck reddened, and he shifted his weight. “I’m an asshole, and you can’t stand me. I know. Do we need to rehash it?”

“What am I not remembering?”

Izzy made a sound that was somewhere between a bark of laughter and a pained groan. “Of course you can’t let it go,” he muttered, then wiped his face with his coat sleeve. “I asked you inside.”

Keegan shook his head. “I assume I turned you down?”

Izzy laughed again, sounding a little hysterical. “You said that you weren’t into manipulative brats. That there were plenty of easy marks to practice my talents on at the Lookout.”

Keegan’s stomach twisted, and he had to swallow against the nausea creeping up the back of his throat. “Ah,” he managed. Unfortunately, that did sound like something he might have said. He wished he could tell Izzy that he was wrong or that he’d misinterpreted, but past-Keegan hadn’t been one to sugarcoat his thoughts. He still wasn’t, but he hoped he’d matured enough not to take a bad day out on a virtual stranger. “Izzy—”

“Can we get back to work now?” Izzy cut him off, then didn’t wait for a response. He pushed his way out of the stall, forcing Keegan to move or get stepped on.

Keegan put his arm across the opening.

Izzy stopped just before he ran into it and shot Keegan a furious glare. “Move.”

Keegan stepped closer and lifted his other arm, trapping Izzy between them, his back against the doorframe.

“Seriously?” Izzy rolled his eyes with a massive sigh, but he gave himself away when it shook at the end. He slouched and looked past Keegan, down the aisle. He startled when Keegan cupped the side of his neck, giving a squeeze.

“Are you gonna listen to me now?” Keegan asked, rubbing the soft skin behind Izzy’s ear with his thumb in a soothing motion that was half automatic.

Izzy’s lower lip quivered until he bit the inside of his cheek to stop it. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t push Keegan away either. Keegan figured that was the best he was going to get.

“I don’t remember,” he started.

“Clearly,” Izzy muttered, his cheeks suspiciously pink.

Keegan tugged on one of the curls poking out from under his wool cap. “Let me finish.”

Izzy wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes again, but he mimed zipping his lips.

Keegan opened his mouth to continue, but instead of an apology, he let out a pained yelp as something grabbed his ass and pinched, hard .

“Ow! Fuck,” he gritted out, staggering back, his hand protecting the spot.

There was a loud snort and the muted stomping of a hoof in deep bedding from beside him. He looked over, his eyes tearing with pain, and found Sunny glaring back at him, her ears pinned flat to her head and the whites of her eyes showing. She pawed the ground with her tiny hoof and snorted a warning.

Then she lunged forward again, teeth bared.

Keegan scrambled out of the way, and a moment later, Izzy slammed the stall door in her face and locked it. Keegan stared at the solid wood, breathing hard and wondering where he could find the nearest ice pack.

Izzy started laughing.

Keegan transferred his glare to Izzy. “You think that’s funny?” he asked.

“Oh my god,” Izzy choked out. He was bent over with his hands braced on his knees, laughing so hard that his face was red. “I knew Sunny was the right name for her.”

Keegan wanted to be annoyed. He was in pain and would have a massive bruise on his ass by tomorrow, but he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.

Seeing him fight his amusement only made Izzy laugh harder, and soon, Keegan joined him. It really was funny. He knew better than to turn his back on a horse with an attitude problem, and Sunny had given them plenty of warning that she wasn’t a fan of people.

“Fuck,” he managed as his laughter died down. “That’s gonna bruise.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Izzy asked, smacking his lips at Keegan. Then he lost it again. He staggered back and collapsed onto a hay bale, leaning against the stall behind it. Tears of mirth gathered in the corners of his sparkling gray-blue eyes.

Fuck, he was gorgeous.

Keegan knew it already, but still. Happiness, even at Keegan’s expense, transformed Izzy’s face—his whole body. The tension in his neck and shoulders loosened, his mouth relaxed, and his eyes creased, making him look somehow both older and younger. Keegan definitely wouldn’t mind Izzy kissing his bruises better.

Or kissing other things. That mouth was something else.

When Izzy had calmed enough, he asked, “More sedatives?”

“For now,” Keegan agreed. They were going to have to figure out something else soon, but he was still hoping once Sunny was further along in her recovery, she’d become a little more agreeable. Maybe never enough to be considered friendly, but he’d settle for not actively attacking them.

He went to get the medication—and an ice pack—from his truck, ignoring Izzy’s muffled snicker at his obvious limp. When he returned, Izzy had his phone out, and it was buzzing with incoming messages.

“Is your group chat enjoying my pain?” Keegan asked good-naturedly. He was sure Micah, in particular, was getting a kick out of Keegan getting his ass bitten by a nine-hand-nothing pony.

Izzy didn’t answer. When Keegan looked closer, he realized all of the younger man’s tension had come roaring back. His shoulders were up around his ears, his breathing was shallow and trembling, and his knee was bouncing hard enough to shake his whole body. What the hell was going on? “Izzy?” He stepped closer, wanting to touch him, to soothe his tension. He knew better, though. Izzy was an affectionate guy with his friends, but Keegan wasn’t one of his friends. When Izzy didn’t respond, he tried again. “Izzy… Isaac .”

Usually, his full name got his attention, but this time, he didn’t even pause in his scrolling.

Keegan set the supplies aside and dropped to a crouch next to the hay bale.

Izzy’s face was alarmingly pale, his pupils so dilated his eyes looked black. This close, Keegan could hear the rapid seesaw of his breathing and see his pulse fluttering in his neck. He was rubbing his palm up and down his thigh over the old injury. His phone screen, when Keegan checked it, showed what appeared to be a social media post.

“Isaac,” Keegan said, resting a careful hand on Izzy’s bouncing knee. “What happened?”

Izzy flinched at the touch and made a sound that wasn’t words so much as a wounded whine. “D-don’t,” he managed.

Keegan removed his hand. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he said, wincing at the endearment, hoping it didn’t make things worse.

Izzy swallowed rapidly and shook his head. “Nothing,” he choked out. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” His eyes didn’t leave the screen, and his tone was anything but fine.

“Isaac—”

“ No .” Izzy shoved to his feet, startling Keegan enough that he had to put a hand down to stop himself from tipping over. “I can’t—” He stopped, his eyes darting like he wasn’t sure which way to run.

“Isaac, breathe,” Keegan commanded, climbing to his feet but keeping distance between them. “I think you’re having a panic attack. You need to slow your breathing.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy snapped, turning on Keegan, his eyes wild, his expression a forced version of his usual sneer.

Keegan blinked, thrown by the sudden hostility.

“I don’t want you here. Why can’t you take a hint? Stick with diagnosing animals since you’re shit with people.”

Keegan took a steadying breath, letting a wave of annoyance roll through him, then fade. This wasn’t about him… At least, he didn’t think it was. Whatever it was about, Izzy was panicking and lashing out. It was a defense mechanism—less violent than Sunny’s biting, but equally effective. “Okay. I’m going to let that go, because I can see how upset you are.”

“Whatever,” Izzy muttered, expression shuttering. He flicked a dismissive hand toward the exit. “I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

Keegan did as he was asked, feeling helpless and like it was the wrong choice.

Halfway back to his truck, he detoured up to the house. No one was there, and he remembered Izzy saying something about them going to the bakery in town for breakfast. He pulled out his phone instead.

Keegan

How long until you get back? Izzy needs you.

Micah

Why? What happened?

Is he okay?

We’re on our way.

Be there in fifteen.

Keegan

I’m not sure. He was reading something on his phone, and I think he may be having a panic attack. He asked me to leave.

Micah

Fuck. Yeah. Sorry if he was an asshole about it. That’s what he does.

Keegan

It’s fine. He was with the rescues when I left.

Micah

Thanks, man. I appreciate it. And thanks for understanding.

Keegan

It’s not a problem. Please tell him I hope he’s feeling better soon.

Keegan tossed his phone on the passenger seat and started the truck, getting the heat going before pulling down the driveway. He’d have to come back later to finish Sunny’s hooves. Hopefully today hadn’t ruined all the progress he’d made—both with Sunny and with Izzy.