Mason: Damn right she did.
Brookes: And she’ll handle it again sometime soon, won’t you, Janey?
I don’t answer, though.
Brookes replies a few minutes later with a photo. It’s a picture of their ranch house with the setting sun behind it, turning the whole place burnished orange. It’s worn in the same way that Wade and Caleb’s ranch is, and homier because of it.
Me: It’s beautiful.
Mason: He’s tempting you with a sunset. Is it working?
Brookes: The sunsets are beautiful here. That’s all I’m saying.
I walk to my window, trying to find my own sunset, but it must be hidden behind other houses.
Me: Sunsets are beautiful everywhere.
***
They send more photos avoiding anything X-rated, thank goodness. Unsolicited dick pics are gross, even when they have perfect dicks like the Fletcher brothers. Receiving one would result in an immediate block.
The cute ones of Mason holding up a tiny orphaned calf he’s bottle-feeding, and Brookes standing next to a new fence line he finished, sweat darkening his shirt, make me smile. They’re little glimpses into their lives that make them feel more real. Glimpses that feel familiar, and more dangerous.
When Mason sends a picture of his barn, accompanied by a sad face emoji, I spit my tea, I laugh so hard.
On Friday morning, I’m between appointments when my phone buzzes again.
Mason: Morning, pretty girl. You sleep okay?
Me: Eventually. Had a very vivid dream.
Mason: Yeah? Were we in it?
Me: I was in a house I didn’t recognize. It was huge.With sprawling rooms. Everything needed redecorating, and all I could think was that I couldn’t handle it.
Brookes: Yes, you could, Janey. If you can handle us, you can handle anything.
Mason: But you don’t have to, Janey. You ever need anything like that, you know where we are.
Mason: Serious question. You free this weekend? We’d like to take you out. Dinner. Maybe a walk somewhere pretty. No barn required… unless you ask real nice.
A fluttery, breathless feeling tightens my chest. This is confirmation that they’re looking for more than another hookup. They’re asking me out. To do date things. That sounds a whole lot like courting. I stare at the message for a long time, thumb hovering.
Part of me wants to say yes immediately. The same risk taking part that followed them into the barn. The same part that enjoys their messages, and looks at their photos over and over again. But the other part—the one raised on my mother’s lectures about reputation, stability, and “not throwing your future away”—is screaming at me to delete the group chat and focus on my real life, not this fantasy version.
Me: I can’t.
I leave it simple. They don’t need to hear about my life or how they’d be perceived.
Mason: Why not?
Me: Please, Mason.
Mason: Please what, sweetheart? Fuck, I love it when you say that word.
Me: Because last time we were together it got… intense. And I can’t deal with that in my real life.
Brookes: We like intense. But we also like you, Janey. Not just your body. Though we definitely like that too. We want more.
