Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

HARPER

T he past five hours have been spent tossing and turning while a cyclone of thoughts swirls inside my brain. First and foremost, I know nothing eclipses being there for Banks through this. His family isn’t terrible like my father was, but they are traditional southerners. I’m not sure how they would react to all this if he told them.

But this also shatters the dream of the future I’ve always envisioned for myself. Through all the ups and downs over the past couple of years, my life with Banks always grounded me. He was stability during cataclysmic upheaval.

I can’t figure out what use I could be to him, why he wants to stay with me, if he doesn’t want me sexually. What use am I in the long run if I can’t give him babies and create a home for us? The notion of my life’s purpose being to become a wife, mother, and homemaker was ingrained in me from the very beginning. It’s harder to come to grips with this than it was to find out my dad was a criminal.

In my restlessness earlier, I purchased some books on asexuality and downloaded them immediately. Since I can’t sleep I might as well put my time to good use researching. Eventually my eyes grow too tired to continue reading and highlighting passages, so I fall back onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Just as I’m about to finally fall asleep, I hear a light knock at my door. I sit up quickly, wondering if Banks can’t sleep either.

“Come in.”

The door opens quietly, and Cy slips in. I throw the covers back and jump out of bed as soon as I see his face. One eye is swollen and bruised with a cut at his temple. He has dried blood around his nose and a split lip .

“I’m fine,” he says as I come closer to him. He lets me turn his head to closer inspect his injuries.

“How did this happen?”

“A fight.”

I pull him into my bathroom. “Why were you fighting? Who were you fighting?”

“Why is Banks asleep on the couch?” He leans against the counter while I look for my first aid kit.

“I asked you first?”

“It was a family thing, and the good news is that I won, so don’t worry about it.”

“You fought your family?” My brows rise as I look over at him.

“For my family. It’s not out of the ordinary.”

I grab a washcloth and run it under hot water. “That seems barbaric.”

He shrugs but stays put as I begin to dab at the dried blood on his face. “I guess that’s why you took all your piercings out?”

“Most of them.” The corner of his lips tilts up before he sticks out his tongue and runs the barbell of his piercing over them. “Except the hidden ones.”

I don’t respond to that as I focus on putting a butterfly bandage over the cut near his eye. He runs his thumb over his lip, and I notice his knuckles are bruised and bloody, too. I grab his fingers and lift his hands for closer inspection, surprised by how calloused they are beneath my own. For some reason I didn’t expect that.

“Why would you risk your hands like this?” I ask quietly.

“Are you going to tell me why Banks is sleeping on the couch instead of in your room?” He dodges the question with one of his own.

I sigh before meeting his eyes. “He made a confession to me tonight that changed things.”

“He’s gay,” he says it like a statement, not a question.

“No.” I drop his hands. “Why would you think that?”

“Just a guess. He doesn’t seem to be into you on a physical level is all.” He holds his hands up. “I don’t mean that in a negative way or anything. Just an observation.”

I focus on cleaning up everything, trying to figure out how much is okay to share with him. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend, though. I have to talk about it with someone.

“Promise not to tell anyone? Even Declan and Emerson?”

“Promise,” he replies with no hesitation.

“He told me he’s asexual.” I wait for any kind of reaction, but Cy just looks at me with understanding, waiting for me to continue. “I didn’t even know that was a thing. I’ve been up reading about it all night. Trying to understand, but the more I read, the more questions I have.”

He takes my hands. “That’s big. He’s lucky to have someone so empathetic that instead of becoming angry, which could be a very valid reaction to that news, looks to understand first.”

I blink away tears and look over his shoulder. His kind words only add to the guilt because I’ve definitely spent a good bit of time wondering what all this means for me. I mean, I know Banks said he’d be fine with me exploring my sexuality with other people, but it’s hard for me to even understand how that could work.

“Do you want a hug?” he asks.

I nod and walk into his open arms. He smells like gasoline and sweat, but I don’t care because he feels like the safest place for me at this moment. With him wrapped around me, I feel cocooned from the realities of my life right now. He stands there for me steadily, never rushing me to let go.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his chest.

“Don’t thank me. I’m already plotting ways to get you into my bed. ”

His joke does as intended, making me giggle because as if he would want to waste his time on me. I’m completely inexperienced, and he probably has wild sex. I couldn’t keep up. I expect to see him laughing with me when I release him from the hug, but he’s not.

“Do you need anything before I go upstairs?”

“No, I feel better now having talked to someone about it. Maybe I’ll actually be able to sleep now.”

He follows me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, lingering at the door while I crawl back in bed.

“Goodnight, Angel.” He flips the light off and closes the door behind him.

Banks and I tiptoed around each other all morning. His confession hangs heavy between us while we made breakfast and ate quietly on the patio. We shared a few hours of polite small talk and conversation about our classes before he packed up his things and left.

After a lingering hug and I love yous were exchanged, I went inside to do what I do best when I’m working through something hard. Clean. Starting in the kitchen I work my way from wiping surfaces to mopping the floor. Once that’s done, I move on to all the other rooms on the main level of the house. I’m in the half bath cleaning the baseboards when I feel a presence lingering over me.

“We have a cleaner that comes every two weeks. You don’t need to clean like that,” Declan says.

I sit back on my heels and use my forearm to brush a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “I don’t mind. Cleaning helps me think things through.”

“What’s wrong?” He tilts his head to the side as he looks down at me.

“Nothing.” I already told Cy what was going on, I don’t want to break Banks’s confidence even more. “I’m fine.”

“Did you get another letter?” He straightens and looks around like he’s going to find whoever is sending them peering through the window.

“No. It’s just stuff with Banks.” I scrub at the board even harder. “I’m okay.”

“That baseboard would disagree.” His fingers wrap around my arm and gently pull me to my feet. “I want to show you something.”

“I’m only halfway finished,” I protest.

“It’s never been cleaner than it is right now.” He pulls the rubber gloves off my hands and drops them in the caddy of cleaning supplies. “Trust me, you’ll want to see this. Go change into your riding pants and boots.”

My chest squeezes. I haven’t ridden any horse since Dad sold Annie. “I don’t know if I have it in me to ride right now.” I look up into his eyes hoping he will just leave me alone.

“You’re not okay.” He steps closer to me, forcing my back to hit the wall as he lifts his hand to my face. His thumb sweeps over the dark circles under my eyes. “This will make you feel better, I promise.”

I’m immobilized by the gentle sweep of his eyes over my face. He’s never been this close to me before. It gives me a chance to study the varying shades of green in his irises. They’re mostly a deep forest green but with flecks of gold and moss, like the sun shining through trees.

“Trust me?” he asks playfully.

“Against my better judgment. I’ll go change.”

He steps out of my way so I can go to my room. I grab a pair of beige and brown riding pants and tuck a slim-fitting white tee into them. After I pull my boots on and get them fastened, I find him waiting in the foyer for me. He casts his eyes around the porch as we close the door behind us. He’s just as vigilant as I am now .

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask after we pull out of the driveway.

“No. Just sit back and relax.”

“Are there stables around here?”

He gives me a sidelong glance. “No, I just told you to dress like that so I can enjoy seeing your ass in those pants.” His tone is laced with sarcasm.

My traitorous cheeks heat. Of course he’s taking me to some stables. It’s a nice gesture, and I’m acting like a brat questioning everything instead of just showing gratitude. I consider apologizing, but the words get stuck in my throat, so I just look out the window as we drive out of town on a two-lane highway.

After a half hour of driving through the countryside, he pulls onto a private drive. The iron sign we drive below says Willow Creek Stables. I can immediately tell that it’s a world class facility with multiple pens and training rings full of jumping obstacles. Riders, trainers, and horses mill about the property.

As soon as Declan parks, a woman comes out to greet us. “Mr. Ambrose,” she nods at him first. “You must be Miss Flynn?” She holds her hand out.

“I am,” I say as I shake her hand.

“I’m Amanda.” She releases my hand and gestures to follow her. “Ready to go back and see her?”

I glance at Declan quickly, unsure of what is going on. “Sure,” I say hesitantly.

“She’s just come out of quarantine and looks completely healthy and sound.” Amanda continues talking, but I don’t hear half of what she said.

“What did you do?” I whisper. “Did you get me a new horse?”

He presses his lips together, unwilling to answer as we walk into a stable. The stalls are gorgeous, made of solid oak and beautiful ironwork. Large fans rotate above us, and I notice heaters lining the rafters. Any horse stabled here is pampered.

As we turn down another row of stalls, a familiar face leans over the gate. My heart skips a beat at the sight of my beautiful, chestnut bay looking my way. Her nostrils flare when she sees me, and I race past Declan and Amanda to get to her.

“Annie!” I cry as I rub her cheeks and press a kiss to her nose. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” She paws at the ground, and I look over at Amanda. “Can I go inside?”

“Of course, she’s your horse.” She unhooks the latch, moving so I can slide through the gap.

“What do you mean she’s mine? My dad sold her to pay his fines.” I wrap my arms around her neck and hold her close. More tears stream out of my eyes when I feel her wrap her neck around me in her own version of an embrace. “Declan?”

“I bought her at auction for you.” He says something quietly to Amanda, and she walks away. “It was bullshit that he sold her to pay for his crimes.”

“This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I look over at him. “Thank you.” I hope he can hear the sincerity in my voice. “I’d tell you to come in here and meet her, but she doesn’t like men.”

“Oh, I know. Emerson told me all about it when he picked her up for me.” He laughs to himself. “Luckily his sister was with him, and she helped.”

“Saylor?”

“No, one of his other sisters, Poppy.”

It occurs to me that I don’t know much about these guys. From now on, I’m going to make a point to get to know them and open up. Their kindness continues to seep into the cracks of my shell.

Amanda brings out everything I need to take her for a little ride. Declan said Cillian would be happy to purchase any gear I need for her as all mine was sold.

As soon as I’m up in the saddle, everything feels brighter, better. Amanda leads us out to an unoccupied practice arena and then leaves. Declan leans against the fence and watches as I work her from a walk to a trot. Once she’s cantering, I ease off a bit and keep her at that pace. We’re both a little rusty after being apart for four months.

“You look good up there,” Declan says as I come to a stop in front of him. He watches me dismount from the nearly seventeen-hand mare.

“Thanks.” I run my hand along her neck. “She makes it easy.”

We walk back to her stall, and as I look around, I realize how expensive this place must be. It feels wrong to let him pay, even if Cillian is the one paying. I can’t just live off them like a leech. Maybe I could get a job here.

I find a bag of treats on a bench and reach inside, handing one to Declan. “Have you ever given a horse a treat?”

“Can’t say that I have.” He holds the biscuit up and examines it.

“I’ll show you. She’s food motivated, so she’ll warm up faster to you if you give her cookies.”

“Bribery. I like it.”

I lead Annie into her stall and demonstrate how to feed her the treat after I remove her bridle and halter. While she chomps away on the one I gave her, I slip the saddle and pad off her. I motion for Declan to come in and place the treat on his palm.

Annie looks at him, then the treat. She snorts and then hesitantly takes it from his hand. As soon as the treat is in her mouth, she steps back toward me.

“Why is she like this?” he asks.

“I’m not really sure. I got her when she was a yearling from a reputable breeder. There’s no obvious reason for it. She’s just never felt comfortable around men.” I wrap my arms around her neck and press a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

When we get to Declan’s car, I reach out and grab his arm to stop him. I was only going to say thank you again, but instead I launch myself at him, hugging him tightly as gratitude overwhelms me. He hugs me back, resting his head on mine. I find myself not wanting to let go.

“You have no idea how much I needed this. I can’t even—” my voice breaks, and he pulls me closer. “I can’t say thank you enough.”