of having the control, yet not at the same time. It’s why it’s one of my greatest joys. A joy I’ve forsaken. Leaning forward, I stroke Pillage on his neck, and use the reins to slow his speed to a more comfortable pace.
Steven is trying to catch up, one hand on his head trying to keep his hat on and the other—I hope—still on his on reins. Magic trots, Steven winces, Magic speeds up, Steven looks like he may faint. Slowing Pillage a bit more, I bring him to a walk as we approach a dewy hill.
Miraculously, Steven stops his horse about forty feet behind me. I turn Pillage around to face them. “What are you doing?” I call out, one hand cupped around my mouth. I watch as Steven, the man most afraid of horses loosens his grip, takes one foot out of a stirrup, puts it on the saddle, and then repeats the maneuver on the other side. When he’s in a squatting position on top of Magic’s back, thoroughly pissing off the horse, he stands up in one fluid motion.
“Hah! Just like surfing! This, I can do.” I hold my breath, praying Magic doesn’t take a step. Or move. The rising sun gleams on his smile, like a sick warning.
“Stay, Magic. Stay!” I command, hoping the horse obeys my commands even though I’m not her rider. My insane friend is grinning like a lunatic waiting for my tirade. I’m a rule follower, not a breaker. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to the nature of the opposite. Like a moth to flame. I’ve always hated that saying because a moth ends up burning in flames.
Steven throws both hands out to the sides, like a circus ringleader. I’m left slack jawed, waiting for my mind to form coherent sentences. Right now all that comes is a string of cuss words and prayers. “What do you say, Morg? I’ve got a few empty spaces to fill. Can I pencil you in?” He sings in a wind-warped voice. It’s then that I realize the pop star he’s channeling and shake my head. He’s the only person I know who still likes to watch music videos. “No?” he counters. I’d basically say anything to get him to sit down. Magic looks more confused and irritated by the second.
“Yes. Yes. Good lord. Write my name. You can write my name!” Steven pulls his fist down by his side, but loses his balance a touch and wobbles. Playing his game is always the best way to get him to comply.
“Sit down! Stay, Magic!” I repeat again. Carefully, Steven sits down. Magic doesn’t want to obey him, now. Pillage walks up to them as close as I can edge in now that it’s safe to approach.
“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?” I ask, my heart hammering against my chest. Not letting me say another word, Steven leans over and kisses me on the mouth. His warm, dry lips feel amazing against my cold skin and it temporarily erases my disdain for him and his lunacy. Opposites attract, right? It truly is one of the oddest sentiments.
“Just trying to alter your expectations,” he says against my lips. I feel my personal cell phone buzz in my vest pocket, but I don’t pull it out. I’m sure it’s Alex texting me again. That he misses me—a completely unexpected complication to my already complicated life.
“You know the rest of that song is about a crazy ex-girlfriend, right?” I ask.
He bites his lip in one corner. “I have some of those,” he replies, eyes full of mirth.
_______________
“Oh, honey. I’m so glad that you came home for the holidays. It’s so nice to see you sitting at this table again. You have no idea,” Steven’s mother says, heaping another stack of bacon on my plate.
I grab a slice and take a small bite. “It’s good to be home. I’ve missed it.”
“Don’t stay gone so long next time,” she says, sitting down across the table, her eyes dancing between Steven and me. The smile she’s giving is maniacal and I can’t help but think Steven may have shared the dating news with her without my knowledge.
His dad straightens the newspaper in front of his face. “Any tough cases lately?” he asks. It’s to be polite. He’s never one for idle chitchat. Steven puts his hand on my leg. I played the part of angry woman for the entire drive to his house. The stunt on the horse was incredibly stupid