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Authors: Renae Kelleigh

Tags: #adult contemporary romance, #college romance, #new adult

BOOK: Love to Love Her YAC
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It isn’t until he reaches between us to
adjust himself between my legs that my mind catches up to me and I
involuntarily recoil. Blake freezes. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“More than okay,” I assure him with a smile,
laying my hands against his bare chest. “I would really love it if
we could keep going with this, see where it leads… But I’m thinking
I’ve filled my quota on sex-at-the-folks’-house for this
weekend.”

He visibly deflates but remains on top of me,
grinning down at me. “Technically last night wasn’t in the house,”
he reminds me. “But I see what you mean. I don’t really want your
parents’ final impression of me to be tainted by walking in on
something they don’t want to see.”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” I say,
making my voice sound as light and chipper as I can manage. I slide
out from beneath him and stand up off the mattress. “Now get
dressed—I know you have to leave, and there’s something I want to
show you before you go.”

 

Blake – 7:30 AM

T
en minutes later
I’m sitting at the kitchen table tying my bootlaces while Rhiannon
dashes off a note to let her family know where we’re
going—information I’m not yet privy to. She leaves the note on the
breakfast bar and silently waves for me to follow her out the
sliding door in the kitchen to the glassed in sunroom. We exit
through another door and cross the backyard to a squat white
outbuilding with a gabled roof.


Shit
it’s cold out here,” says
Rhiannon. “Like, involuntary-opera-singing cold.” She rubs her
hands together to create friction, and I laugh and bundle her
against my side, not minding the excuse to touch her.

Once we reach the building, Rhiannon swings a
tall wooden door wide, and the scent of manure and hay comes at me
full force. I follow her inside, expecting to see cows or pigs
crouched in their own waste. I’m surprised and a little relieved
when I encounter horses instead. One is all white with black spots,
a long black tail and mane to match. The other is glossy copper
brown with a stripe of white on its nose. “That’s Queenie,” says
Rhiannon proudly, following my gaze to the second one. “Tawny and
I’ve had her since she was just a foal.”

I look at her, dumbstruck. “She’s pretty,” I
tell her. “I didn’t know you had a horse.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she
says with a coy grin. “Now come on and help me. You can ride
Domino.”

A smile spreads itself across my face. “We’re
riding?”

“The horses, yes,” she clarifies with a
smirk. She opens Domino’s stable door and drags a stepstool up next
to the horse’s flank. She says something softly in her ear and pats
her neck, then throws a thick blanket over her broad back. “Will
you bring that over here for me?” she asks, pointing to an ornate
leather saddle hanging on a hook on the wall.

I help her position the heavy saddle over the
blanket and watch while she fastens the straps then positions the
bridle over the horse’s snout. She repeats the same motions on the
other horse with the competence and efficiency of someone who’s
been doing this awhile.

Finally Rhiannon takes the reins of both
horses and leads the gentle giants into the yard outside the
stable. “Give me a boost,” she says, “like this.” She stoops and
interlocks her fingers, showing me how to help stabilize her foot
as she mounts the horse. I comply, creating a surface for her to
step up on, then indulge in a little grab ass as she gracefully
swings her leg up and over.

She giggles as I round Domino and study her,
calculating the best way to get up there without making a complete
ass of myself.

“Just—“ she begins, but I hold up a finger to
silence her, determined to figure this out on my own. I glance at
her as she stifles a giggle, then in one slightly disjointed
movement I kick my foot up into the stirrup and take a giant step
up, leaving the earth far behind as I drop into the saddle.

“Nice work!” she exclaims. “I’m
impressed.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I reply. “All
this time I’ve thought you’re just a klutz. You’ve been holding out
on me.”

She harumphs. “I’m better off my feet.”

I can’t help sniggering. “That’s for sure.” I
wink as she throws her head back in gleeful laughter.

“Is this gonna make my ass sore?” I ask as I
take hold of the reins and weigh them in my hand.

“Almost definitely.”

“Okay, just so I’m prepared,” I reply with a
laugh. “Lead on.”

Rhiannon tugs on her reins to steer Queenie
to the south and uses her heel to kick the horse’s flank, spurring
her into a canter. Thankfully I don’t need to think much about how
to copy her movements—Domino takes off after her counterpart, and
soon we’re trotting alongside each other in the general direction
of a range of mountains.

 

8:45 AM

I
suck at guessing
distances, but if I had to, I’d say we rode out for five or so
miles. My backside is comfortably numb by the time we stop, but I
know I’ll be paying for it later. The feel of the cold wind slicing
past us as the horses stretched their legs was a form of
exhilaration I’ve never known. I’ve been enjoying the view,
too—Rhiannon is a sight to behold on the back of a horse. I’m
almost disappointed the ride is over when she slows to a walk.

We come to an old well with a hand pump, and
Rhiannon nimbly leaps down as Queenie bows her head to sample the
sparse grass. I jump down, too, although somewhat less elegantly.
Rhiannon goes to sit on a nearby stump; she draws her knees up to
her chin and hugs her legs to her chest while I walk over to join
her.

“I used to come here all the time,” she says.
“Me and Tawny together usually—we would ride with her in the front
and me sitting behind her. It was the first place we were allowed
to come without supervision after we got Queenie.”

“Nice view,” I observe as I encircle her
narrow frame with my arm and scoot closer to warm her up. She casts
a sidelong look over my shoulder toward the rolling mountains and
nods.

“There used to be a tree here obviously,” she
continues. “It was huge. We were going to build a clubhouse in it
one day.”

“What happened to it?” I ask.

“It was struck by lightning in one of those
freak popup thunderstorms. It almost split right down the middle.
It was actually really cool looking…” Her voice trails off, and
with it her thoughts. I stay quiet, watching her think, wishing she
was as expressive in responding to her own inner monolog as she is
to other people’s ravings.

After what seems like hours of not speaking
at all, she forces out a small sigh and leans her head over on my
shoulder. “I’m scared, Blake,” she says simply, the way you might
say “It’s raining” or “I’m going to get a haircut.”

I kiss the top of her head and give her
shoulder a squeeze. “What are you scared of, baby?”

“I’m scared I’ll lose my baby sister,” she
says. The overwhelming sadness in her voice causes my heart to
clench like a fist. She lifts her head and rests her chin between
her knees, staring at some indeterminate spot on the dusty ground.
My brain scrambles to think of something to say that will make her
feel better without sounding completely cliché. So far I’m coming
up empty.

“I’ve never said those words out loud, you
know?” she asks, turning her head to look at me while resting the
side of her face against her knee. “We all think it, but nobody
says it. I know they say you have to think positive—I’ve been to
all the support groups, read all the books. If nothing else we have
to do it for Tawny. But it breaks my heart to think—“

She breaks off, breathing heavily to fight
off the tears.

I nod and rub her back. I end up not saying
anything, because there’s really nothing to say. I can’t make the
promises I wish I could.

Finally she takes a deep breath and her eyes
meet mine once more. A brave smile breaks across her pretty face.
“Thank you for liking me,” she says, a teasing lilt to her soft
voice.

I chuckle. “To that I can truthfully say ‘no
problem.’ It’s one of the easiest things I’ve ever done.”

 

 

 

Chapter 22 –
Apart
Monday to Wednesday, October 15-17

 

Blake – Monday, 7:30 AM

A
dam wanders into
the kitchen just as I’m about to leave, my messenger bag over my
shoulder, banana in hand. I cringe when I hear him approaching—I’ve
more or less been avoiding him since I got back yesterday. I can’t
really pinpoint why.

“Woah, Blake?” he says in mock surprise. “You
still live here?”

I force a laugh. “On occasion. I’m just
heading out.”

“You’re early, aren’t you?”

“I have some stuff I have to do.”

He goes to the coffee pot and begins to pour
himself a cup. “Where’d you run off to this weekend?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other,
deciding whether I want to have this conversation right now.
Fuck it, might as well
.

“I was in Winnemucca.”

He laughs like he thinks I might be kidding.
“Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously. Rhiannon is from there.”

He peers at me over the rim of his coffee
mug. “Is she now?”

“Listen, man, it’s done between Jordan and
me. We gave it a shot and it didn’t work out, life goes on. I can’t
just ignore this thing with Rhiannon anymore.”

“Wow,” says Adam. “When did you decide
this?”

“I’ve been thinking it for a while. I mean,
you know that.”

He nods thoughtfully. “So you went to
Winnemucca to—what, meet the parents?”

“Not really. She just has some shit going on
with her family right now, and she needed a friend.”

“That was big of you,” he says. I can’t tell
if he’s being facetious, so I don’t say anything. Just as I’m
thinking maybe our conversation has reached its end he speaks up
again. “How did Jordan take it?”

I clear my throat and flatten my hand against
the side of my face. “I’m going to tell her weekend after next. I
was planning on going home then anyway. We were together for most
of six years, I can’t just break it off in a text message.”

I drop my gaze to the floor for a moment,
then walk out before Adam can respond.

 

Rhiannon – Wednesday, 2:30 PM

T
awny dozes in her
chair at the infusion center while she gets her first round of the
new chemo regimen Dr. Hennessy prescribed. I sit in the chair next
to her, quietly reading a magazine.

My phone sounds its text message alert, and
then immediately a second one. The first is from Blake:

 

I miss you. Call me when you’re finished.

 

I smile as I flip to the next message, which
is from Ruthie:

 

OK you’ve GOT to come back. Weird things are
happening here…

 

I respond to Ruthie first.

 

Weird how?

 

Corinne just texted me that she was studying in the
library, but then I just saw her walk by the union with SPENCER of
all people.

 

As in my cousin Spencer?

 

That’s the one.

 

Why would she lie about that?

 

My point exactly.

 

I glance over at Tawny to be sure she’s still
sleeping before embarking on a little reconnaissance of my own. I
tap out a text message to Corinne.

 

Hey, whatcha up to?

 

It takes her a couple of minutes to
respond.

 

I’m at the grocery store.

 

I switch back over to my conversation with
Ruthie.

 

She just told me she’s at the grocery store…

 

Bizarre, no?

 

Definitely. You sure it was her?

 

Unless she and Spence BOTH have doppelgangers roaming
campus…together.

 

Fair enough.

 

I thought he was gay.

 

You aren’t the only one. Honestly, I always sort of
wished he wasn’t so he and Corinne could end up together.

 

I think they just HUGGED.

 

Are you following them?!

 

Well yeah.

 

Weirdo.

 

Needless to say, I think you may have gotten your
wish. You may have two more. Nothing perverted though okay?

 

A giggle escapes me.

I’m glad to be here for Tawny, but I’m
looking forward to heading back to Carson City on Sunday. I miss
those two crazy girls.

Plus, now I get to have all the sex I want
with the most gorgeous guy in the whole world
. I love my
life.

 

 

 

Chapter 23 –
Serenade
Monday & Tuesday, October 22-23

 

Rhiannon – Monday, 9:45 PM

I
t feels good to be
back. Once I texted Ruthie and Corinne to let them know I was home
yesterday, they were both at my doorstep within minutes. They
briefly brought me up to speed on everything I’ve missed in class,
then asked after Tawny. Able to sense that I wasn’t in the mood to
dwell on the situation with my sister, they had quickly shifted
gears and begun to interrogate me about Blake. They hung on my
every word, slack jawed, as I filled them in on everything that
happened over the past two weeks.

I was hoping to see Blake yesterday evening,
but he had a late study group meeting. He promised to let me know
when he was finished in case I was still awake, but I drifted off
with the phone in my hand while waiting for his text. I was
dreadfully disappointed when I awoke this morning to a message time
stamped 11:42 PM:

 

Just got done. Please tell me you’re still awake.

 

And then another at 11:57:

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