“We could skip this,” he offers. “I could say I’m not feeling well.”
“No,” I say quickly, suddenly even more uneasy that he can see right through me. “I’m okay. Just nervous I’ll be bad at it. But thanks.”
Noah doesn’t look convinced. “Okay, but what if—” He pauses, clearly having an idea. “What if we ride together? Same horse?”
I look up at him. That would make this a lot easier.
“Uh…is that even allowed?”
“Sure,” he says. “They’re big horses. They can easily carry two people.” He lowers his voice. “Plus it’ll look romantic. Double points for the boyfriend charade.”
For a second I consider pretending I’d rather ride alone, but the words slip out before I can stop them.
“Okay, yeah. If that’s okay with you?”
The idea eases some of the tension in my chest.
“Of course,” Noah says, already getting up.
He walks over to the stable hand and speaks to him in low tones, gesturing briefly in my direction. After a moment the man nods, and Noah comes back with a small smile.
“All set. We’ll take one horse. I’ll handle it—you just hold on.”
The relief hits so hard I can only nod.
***
Five minutes later, we’re outside in the bright afternoon sun. Daniel and Maya are already mounted on their horses—large, solid animals that somehow look gentle despite being more than capable of trampling someone to death. Maya sits easily in her saddle, far too comfortable for someone who claims she hasn’t ridden in years.
Our horse is the largest of the bunch—a massive chestnut with white feathering around its ankles and a placid expression that does little to calm my nerves. The stable hand holds the bridle while Noah swings up into the saddle with surprising grace. He adjusts his seat, then extends a hand down to me.
“Your turn,” he says with a grin.
I stare at his hand, trying to swallow the anxiety rising in my throat.
“Connor,” Noah says softly. “Trust me.”
I nod and reach up to grasp his hand. With his help—and a boost from the stable hand—I manage to clamber awkwardly up behind him. The saddle isn’t meant for two, which leaves me perched partly on the horse’s back with nothing to hold onto except Noah himself.
“Put your arms around my waist,” he says, glancing over his shoulder.
I hesitate, then slowly wrap my arms around him. The position presses us close—my chest against his back, my thighs tight against his. He’s warm and solid against me, and I’m suddenly very aware of every point of contact between us.
“Good,” Noah says, his voice a little higher than usual. “Just hold on like that.”
Daniel turns in the saddle and gives us an amused look, but says nothing. Maya is less restrained.
“Cozy,” she calls with a smirk.
Noah ignores her and gathers the reins. “Ready?” he asks me.
“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter behind him.
The stable hand releases the bridle, and Noah gently squeezes with his legs. The horse steps forward with a jolt that makes me tighten my grip around Noah’s waist. We follow Daniel and Maya out of the stable yard and onto a wide dirt path leading toward the lake.
“We’re going to take the shore trail,” Daniel calls back. “About twenty minutes round trip. Beautiful views.”
“Sounds great,” Noah replies, his voice a faint vibration against my chest.
