“By the way, did I tell you my apartment building is called the Stud Farm?”
“What the hell? Are you sure you aren’t accidentally living on an Old West porn shoot? It’s an easy mistake to make.”
“No,” Grace said quietly. “But I am fucking a cowboy.”
“What?” Merry squealed, the word disappearing into peals of laughter. She was just as delighted as Grace had expected. “Since when?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“I should hang up just to punish you for not telling me sooner. But I can’t miss this. What cowboy? What do you mean? This sounds like a continuing project!”
“Actually I’m not sure if it’ll continue anymore, but it’s happened a couple of times.”
“Oh, it’s happened?”
Grace could practically hear her friend making air quotes.
“As in, ‘I’m sorry, was that your penis I just sat on several times in quick succession?’”
“Something like that.” She giggled. Maybe she was drunk. She certainly felt warm and loose and happy. She leaned against the corner post and hung her legs over the side of the porch.
“Details,” Merry ordered. “God knows it’s as close as I’ll have been to an actual penis in months.”
Grace looked around to be sure no one was near. “Look, he’s not right for me. Obviously. He’s an actual cowboy. On a ranch.”
“No,” Merry breathed. “No! Shut up. I can’t take it. Does he wear a cowboy hat?”
“Yes.”
“Does he wave it in the air when he’s breaking you like a wild horse?”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, my God, he does, doesn’t he? Does he call you his filly?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Okay. Sorry.” There was a sound like a hand slapping flesh. “I’m covering my mouth,” Merry said, her voice muffled and muted. “Go ahead.”
“He lives across the hallway from me. He’s hot. And he’s really, really good in bed.”
“Oh, my God,” Merry whispered.
“But I think it’s over.”
“But why?” Merry wailed.
“It’s too complicated. I’m not at the point in my life where I can get serious. A couple of nights? Sure. But every night? That’s asking for trouble. And I truly, honestly can’t handle any more trouble right now. Not for a while. I really…can’t do it.”
“Hey,” Merry said softly, her voice clear again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m just…” Grace’s eyes burned, and then she felt the cool welling of the tears that spilled past her eyelids. “I’m tired, Merry. That’s all.”
“Oh, Grace. Don’t—”