THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,205

not have to put on a show.

Grabbing a harness belt, I start attaching the saddle on Magic. She snuffs out a loud breath and he jumps back. “I never said anything about delight. You left abruptly,” I explain, as Steven takes a few measured steps toward the horse’s head. He extends a hand, much like a child would, and lets the horse sniff him. Magic raises her lip and shows her teeth in a cute snarl.

“What the fuck, Morg. She almost bit me! How am I supposed to partner with a horse who wants to eat me?” Steven exclaims, eyes wide.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I reiterate. My directness grabs his attention.

Warily, he turns his head toward me, but I know he’s keeping Magic in his line of peripheral sight. This horse wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m not going to tell him that. Yet.

Steven turns his hat around to face backward, a nervous habit. “Expectation management, M. I practice it at work, I’ll practice it here...with you. I’m guilty of expecting too much. Not just from you, but from everyone around me. I want you to want me on certain terms. It’s my right.”

My face heats as I let his words sink in. I pull on Magic’s strap a little harder than I mean to and she whinnies, her front feet rising up and down in protest.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steven yells, pressing his back to the side of her stall. I glance at him over my shoulder.

“Expectations are an unpredictable creature, Steven—a beast you can’t control even if you practice expectation management. I expect one thing and get the opposite on a daily basis. It’s part of being an adult. It’s life. That said, I think that I deliver on things that I’ll say I’ll do. I said I’d give our relationship a shot, but I also told you I didn’t have much to give. It’s a balancing act. This horse,” I smack Magic on her flank, “wouldn’t hurt a fly. I don’t expect her to, anyways. Your foot goes here,” I say, holding out a stirrup.

His look, one that says he thinks I’m insane, and also one of pure fear, calms me. I walk across the barn to another stall and start prepping the other horse. He’s a giant, black beast that snorts and paws the ground when I enter. I grin.

“Hey, Pillage. Ready to go for a ride?” I ask, smoothing my fingers through his silky hair. I’ve missed this barn, and these horses, and this lifestyle so much that it causes me actual pain from avoiding it for so long. I work through the straps more quickly this time, my hands remembering the steps before my mind does.

“Just call me Old Six Shooter Steve and lets get this over with,” Steven says, riding high atop Magic. When he gets a look at Pillage, his face morphs into disgust. “If I’m to die atop a beast, why didn’t you let me have that one? That’s a respectable way to go. He looks like death. That’s not fair.”

I scoff, mount my death horse, and lead Pillage toward Magic to help Steven grasp his reins better. “There is no holy way you could handle this one,” I tell him. On cue, Pillage rears up, just for show mind you, and clops out of the barn ahead of them. The cool, liquid air hits me like a punch. It’s still dark, with the sun creeping over the horizon very slowly. Everything happens slowly here—part of its charm and its curse. Steven catches up and does his best to stop his horse next to mine.

“I disagree, you know,” Steven whispers. “Expectations can be controlled. You should know. Everything is controllable.” I remember him saying something similar when we were in high school and I asked for advice about law school. That was back when I didn’t have confidence or any life experiences to guide me.

I shrug. “You’re probably right. Right now, I merely expect that I’ll win,” I say, glancing into his brown eyes. His chin tilts down, his eyes narrowed, and he kicks Magic. They take off into the sunrise with a well-needed head start.

“Go, boy! Yah, yah!” I yell, heeling my own horse into an explosion of speed. I feel the smile creep up and I’m laughing, carefree and excited in no time. The smell of fresh cut grass and clay linger as I catch up to and pass Steven in a few seconds’ time. Horseback riding is another instance