Then Calvin slipped into her bunk like it was perfectly normal to sleep in a bunkhouse full of cowboys in nothing but a paper-thin shirt and underwear that barely covered her perfect ass.
I sighed, knowin' it wasn't worth the fight. I'd tell her to put on some clothes, she'd tell me to fuck off, and she'd win in the end.
So, instead, I kicked off my own boots, hung my hat on the hook, and climbed into the top bunk.
"Whatcha doin', boy scout?"
"Going to sleep, viper. I suggest you do the same."
She peeked her head out from under the bunk, and I looked down at her.
"Brody, go home. I don't need you to stay here."
"Can't. Too tired to drive."
It was a lie. She knew it, too. But like I'd relented on her bedtime attire, she relented on this.
"You sleep in the bunkhouse?"
I nearly jumped outta my fuckin' skin. What was it with my best friend sneakin' up on me in the last twenty-four hours?
"Jesus Christ, Rhett." I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammerin' against my ribs. "You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"
He was leanin' against the side of the building, arms crossed, lookin' like he'd been waiting there for a while. The early morning light caught the exhaustion written all over his face—dark circles under his eyes, hair stickin' up like he'd been runnin' his hands through it all night. Probably dealin' with the aftermath of the mess I'd caused.
"Answer the question."
I glanced back at the bunkhouse door, makin' sure it was firmly shut behind me. Last thing I needed was Calvin overhearing this conversation. Hell, last thing I needed was this conversation at all, but the look on Rhett's face told me I wasn't gettin' out of it.
"Yeah, well..." I rubbed the back of my neck, buying time. "Seemed like the thing to do."
"The thing to do." His voice was flat, unimpressed. "Right."
I shifted on my feet, torn between fleeing the scene and squarin' up with him. Before I made up my mind, he made the choice for me.
"Let's take a walk."
"Like, a walk off a short bridge kinda walk, or…?"
Rhett barked out a laugh, which was a good sign, I hoped. People didn't normally laugh before offing their best friends, did they? More I thought about it, though, he had no reason to. I'd done him a favor, given him his opening. He just had to take it.
"Nah, dipshit. Just feels like we got some shit to talk out. Lake?"
I sniffed a pit. "Dip in the lake is as good as any bath."
That was absolutely un-fucking-true, but damn if I didn't feel the need to make light of this whole situation.
It was what I did, who I was. The good time guy, as Sassy had put it. I wasn't expected to have deep thoughts, big feelings.
I fuckin' hated it. Because despite whether people expected me to have them, I still did. Just nowhere to put 'em.
Maybe today was a good day to change that.
Rhett clapped me on the back and we walked in silence toward the lake. It was about a quarter mile deep in the opposite direction of the big pasture. Cows never came over here, but we'd bring the horses to water them, relax while we swam. Been doin' it since we were kids.
We sat at the end of the small dock that had a canoe tied to it—one we'd tipped countless times. Neither of us spoke for a long while, just starin' out into the beauty that was Wild Acre Ranch. In the heat of summer, the water glistened under the sun that was just beginnin' to rise.
Finally, I couldn't handle the quiet anymore. "Listen?—"
