Finding Eden(6)

“Shut up, Paul Guy,” Danny whispered tiredly against the curve of Paul’s neck. “It’s okay to let someone besides Evie be nice to you.”

Paul didn’t acknowledge the statement, but he didn’t complain either. He relaxed within a few minutes and Danny realized he’d already fallen asleep. If it was the fucking that wore Paul out, or simply a defense mechanism, Danny didn’t know, but he refused to let him go. It could be the only time he got to hold him like this and Danny was a little too selfish to pass up the opportunity.

*

Paul awoke to that drunken feeling of knowing he hadn’t had nearly enough sleep, but his internal clock screamed at him that it was long past time to stop being a lazy asshole and get out of bed.

He rolled onto his back, feeling a strange sadness at being alone in Danny’s bed. Though he’d never admit it out loud, he needed the comfort of his best friend’s company. His body ached from too much fucking. His heart ached with the reminder Eve was really gone. He’d willingly let the love of his life go and he couldn’t imagine being more miserable than he was at that moment.

Knowing he was going to regret it at football practice that day, he reached for Danny’s cigarettes. He lit one and then let himself out the way he came in, crawling through the window too small for his big frame rather than face Danny’s parents. He stuffed his t-shirt into the back pocket of his jeans and tugged on his shoes, hopping on one foot, the cigarette in his mouth making his eyes water.

Still struggling with pulling himself together, Paul spotted Danny far out in the pasture and had to stop to stare. Even from a distance Danny was beautiful, riding with the sunshine outlining his long frame, looking completely at home on the large stallion. Paul would never understand it about himself, but sometimes Danny cut such a striking, darkly beautiful figure he had to just sit there and admire him. The horse was massive, yet Danny handled him with ease, as if meant to command and control, and that captivated Paul.

He grinned with the thought that rich little girls got ponies named Buttercup for their birthdays and rich, angry little boys got big, black stallions named Lucifer.

This was Danny’s sport, his only sport. He’d been riding since he was three and it showed. He always had an eloquent way of horseback riding Paul couldn’t help but envy. They weren’t there for his amusement, but Danny used the hay bales like barrels, weaving in and out of them until he spotted Paul. Leaping over the last one, he raced to the edge of the fence.

Danny grinned, leaning forward on Lucifer to arch an eyebrow in challenge at Paul. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Paul blinked tiredly and flicked ashes into the grass. “Need help running the horses?”

“Sure,” Danny agreed, which was predictable. His father owned six horses. Exercising them was Danny’s only chore and it was tedious for him because he preferred his own horse to the others. From the sweat at his temples it was obvious he’d been riding for a while and still hadn’t gotten around to the other horses. Danny waggled his eyebrows. “Saddle up, we’ll race.”

Paul pulled a face, not really thrilled with the notion of having his ass handed to him in a race he could never win. “Why not?” he asked, rather than complain, and crawled over the fence.

Racing with Danny was just asking for defeat, but Paul didn’t mind so much. The sunshine felt good on his bare back, and the distraction of riding race after race kept his mind off losing Eve.

The truth was he felt almost self-destructive over letting her go. He hated himself for it and wished once more there was some way to learn rebellion from Danny. He had always been fascinated with Danny’s reckless abandon for rules, his carelessness of others’ opinions of him.

More than fascination, Paul admired him for it and was often an enabler for his bad attitude, which was probably why the two of them got along as well as they did. Danny wanted to be the bad boy and Paul admired the hell out of him for doing it as well as he did.

*

Despite losing every horse race, Paul had started to feel a bit more in touch with himself than he had earlier that morning, when he’d found himself seeking out Danny and accepting comfort he usually avoided.

Once the chore of running the horses was done, Paul went straight from Danny’s house to football practice, which drained him more than usual. Now he was too damn tired to really comprehend anything past needing a shower and more than a few hours of sleep.

He lived only a few streets over from Danny, but Paul’s house looked like a shack in comparison to the lavish ranch house and neatly manicured grounds of the Carlow Ranch. His home was clean but small, old and worn down in a way no amount of scrubbing could fix.