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Samantha
Iwatch the birds and breathe in the fresh air while visiting Asher on his ranch, and I immediately feel an overwhelming sense of freedom surge through my body.
Asher and I sit on the massive front porch of his house, sipping on beer on a beautiful day.
“Your ranch makes me think of heaven,” I tell him.
Asher looks off into the distance and nods his head vaguely. I believe he would nod at anything right now.
I know Asher likes to come off as the strong and silent type, but he barely talks to me or acknowledges me throughout the visit.
“You seem quiet. Anything on your mind, cowboy?” I ask him.
“I don’t reckon so,” he says calmly, still gazing to the side and avoiding eye contact.
Asher’s aloof attitude starts to irk me to the point that I can’t take it anymore. I position myself in front of Asher and grab him by the collar of his button-down shirt until I force him to look directly at me.
“I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings too much, but I hope you know that you can feel safe with me,” I notify Asher.
He meets my stare momentarily before once again averting his focus.
“Fine. Have it your way,” I sigh and go back to my seat on the front porch and take a sip from my beer.
Asher takes a long, slow sip from his beer, too. He takes his time before seemingly gathering himself and adjusting his chair to face me. Many cowboys struggle to convey strong emotion, and Asher clearly falls into that category.
“Forgive me, Sam. I just have a lot on my mind these days,” he confesses.
I notice him picking the label on his beer out of nervousness, and I start to worry.
“Can you tell me more? Do you feel worried about losing the ranch?” I guess.
“No. I don’t worry about finances at all. One bad deal can’t break me. It’s more personal. I ask myself a lot of questions these days that I never asked myself before,” Asher begins.
I don’t want to interrupt him, so I sit back and attempt to appear casual and unthreatening so that he continues to express himself. I believe that a sincere rhapsodic outburst toward a friend can provide an effective solution for personal turmoil.
“Liam and I had an interesting night the other day,” Asher informs me.
I feel a sense of relief when I hear that.
“Do you mean when we all had that threesome? Asher, you need to relax. We shared a fun experience. Don’t put any more weight on it than necessary,” I chuckle.
“You don’t understand. Liam and I hung out together again alone. We did things together,” he confides in me.
A shocked gasp slightly escapes, but I try to contain myself to avoid making Asher ashamed or uncomfortable. Call me conceited, but I thought Liam and Asher only participated in the threesome so they could both get with me. However, I quickly recognize the beauty of the situation.
“I apologize if you find this too forward, but do you like Liam romantically?” I inquire.
Asher throws his head back in a combination of confusion, frustration, and discomfort. His hat falls onto the ground, and he leaves it there, allowing the sun to blind him.
“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know how I feel about him,” Asher blurts out, squinting from the sun.
The hat gently moves on the patio floor. I pick it up and give it back to him, mostly to give him the vision he needs to examine the situation. He puts the hat back on his head, allowing me to see his pupils again.
“I’m not jealous, in case you are worried about that. You do not need to feel weird about anything, and I think you and Liam make a cute couple,” I say, attempting to show support.
I personally don’t understand his reluctance toward a relationship with Liam. He never once showed this type of distress when talking about girls.
It becomes clearer that I don’t understand when Asher abruptly and aggressively stands up, clenching his fist.
