“Can we talk? Please?”
I hate how it feels when I have to beg people. All I seem to be doing for years and years is the same: beg people to take me seriously, beg people to spend time with me, beg people to want me. To wantme.
Saylor did. She was the best friend and rival I could’ve ever wanted. We trained together hard, we pushed each other to the max, and we competed against each other barrel racing with our heads held high. She was so much better than I was, and I always saw that as a push to be better, to make it to my next goal. If Saylor could do it, so could I. She was so inspirational.
And then, I had a chance to help her make it to the next step, and I blew it by not minding my own businessandby going behind her back.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
I didn’t come here to do this today. I didn’t think I was going to run into her and have to face my actions, or lack thereof. I do want her to know, though, that I didn’t mean to ruin her life and that I do value not only her friendship, but her as a person. I jot down my number on a sticky note.
“If you change your mind. Text me, call me, whatever. You know where to find me.” I slide the note into the back pocket of her overalls and head back to the ranch, but not without my mind spiraling about a million usual things plus Saylor.
"Knock, knock,”I say, pretending to knock on a nonexistent door to Lilly’s office. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, not one single hair out of line, but she’s not frowning— totally the opposite, actually. She’s smiling.
“Did you get laid?” I ask. Fuck my whole life. Why can’t I keep my inside thoughts inside?
“Riley!” she shouts, biting back a laugh. Okay, that’s better than her screaming at me or giving me the silent treatment. “No, I haven’t—not that it’s any of your business.”
“Well, sis, maybe you should.” I take the seat in front of her, considering letting my feet rest on her desk, but I choose not to so I don’t piss her off.
Lilly lets out a sigh. I can’t tell if it’s resignation or exasperation. “When would I have time to get laid? I’m always here.”
I don’t have to get a mirror to know I look completely flabbergasted. She’s actually sharing a part of her life with me. “Let’s make the time!”
“I don’t need to get laid.”
I laugh. She doesn’t. Oh shit, okay, not a joke, got it. I clear my throat before adding, “Sis, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you might. It will help you with your mood.”
“I don’t have a mood, and I can take care of myself with my own two hands.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and it might as well be a barrier between us.
No, no, no, Riley. This was going well. Come on, back it up. Get back on track.
“Pop off, queen! We love a self-care aware, independent woman.” She smiles. Okay, okay, back on track. “And maybe it’s not that you need a man…or a woman…” I trail off. She had a boyfriend for a really long time; we all loved him, even if we didn’t see how goody two-shoes ended up with the town’s bad boy. Except they broke up forever ago, and I’ve never seen her with anyone else. “Maybe you just need to take your mind off work for a bit.”
“Men, to answer your unasked question, and when do you recommend I do that? In between trying to revive the dead garden, running this place, the camp, the social media, I barely have any time to live, let alone go out or whatever.”
“I can see that, but also, if you don’t take care of yourself, who will?”
She considers my question before busying herself with papers spread all over the desk. “I’m supposed to be the voice of reason here, Riles.” She’s deflecting, and I hate that.
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Lils.” I lean forward and hold her hand. “I know it’s hard for you to delegate. I get it, but you need to. You need to find time for yourself too.”
She swallows hard, unable to meet my eyes in order to say whatever she’s thinking. I know it’s hard for her. I’ve always just assumed she was an uptight bitch, but the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize she not only had to step up and run a whole business at just shy of twenty-two, but she also had to help raise two broken-hearted, grief-filled teenagers, with the pressure of holding a legacy on her shoulders too. She’s not the only one with things to lose, but I know she’d be the one to take the blame.
Her beautiful blues finally meet mine, and it’s like seeing the reflection of a clear sky on the sea. “I know. But there’s always so much to do.”
“Let me help. I’m sure Willa can help too. I promise you if you call her, she’ll come. She’s off school either way, no? We can take some of the load.”
She nods.
“You gave me tasks, and I did them right, correct? Give me more.”
She takes a seat on her rolling chair. “But then what am I going to do when, in a couple weeks, you decide to leave?”
I won’t, I want to say. I’m here for the long run, I want to add. But am I? What would I even do? Now it’s fine because there are fun things to do and summer is my favorite, plus the cowboy next door keeping me entertained after hours, but what could I do after? I don’t want to be bored and feel useless again. That’s the worst feeling.
“I won’t. I promise you, I’ll be here til the end of summer at the very least. So delegate something to me.” I can compromise that until I can figure out something else, right?
