Or is it something else …?
I don’t know what’s on my face, but all I can do is stare down at him and continue to catch my breath, his body caught between my thighs, held down by my weight.
My heartbeat is in my ears.
He still says nothing.
He does nothing.
I continue staring down at him, at a loss.
Suddenly, I don’t know what either of us are doing.
I get off of Hoyt and rise to my feet. He still doesn’t move. He just stares up at me blankly, his hands still over his head where I had them pinned, tatters of his torn shirt all around him. His chest rises and falls with his every breath. He squints against the sun, but never looks away from me, stinging me with his eyes.
Why isn’t he moving? Why isn’t he getting up?
Why isn’t he trying to fight me?
It’s over, that’s why, I tell myself. I won, and he’s accepted it, and it’s all over now.
Finally, I clear my throat. “Finish up with … the trough and … and then you’re …” I can’t catch my breath. My heart won’t stop racing. “Then you’re done for the day.”
He doesn’t say anything back. He only stares, breathing hard, a sweaty, sticky, filthy mess. It’s like he’s waiting for me to say something else. To do something else. But what would I say? What would I do?
I walk away, leaving him with the pigs.
Chapter 5
Harrison
For fuck’s sake, what’s come over me?
I get out of the shower and dry off, then sit on my bed in just my towel and stare at the window, dumbfounded.
What is it about that damned kid?
I lost my cool out there. I’ve never lost my cool before, not like that. Not since high school when Tanner and I would bicker over the dumbest things, then wrestle it out in the locker room or on the field, nearly killing each other, until our coach or some of our teammates would separate us.
But we were like brothers. We grew up together. Hoyt isn’t a brother at all. I barely know anything about him, other than he’s an intolerable, spoiled jock who has no business taking advantage of and getting handouts from respectable people like Gary Strong.
I can still feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.
I can still feel the firmness of his body smashing against mine.
His warm, sweaty chest pressed against my face.
His hands grabbing hold of me wherever he could.
And my fingers, cupping the entirety of one firm ass cheek in his tight jeans.
His jagged breath in my ear, against my face—hot and angry, like his eyes, like his snarling lips, like his nose as it scrunched up with determination to overpower me.
He wasn’t just a kid when we wrestled in the mud.
He was my equal somehow. Just two men facing off, like lions in the wild, like feral dogs over a bone, like players from rival football teams vying for the ball.
I can’t let him get to me like this.
There’s a knock at my front door, visible from the bed. I look up to find Gary through the screen. “Hey there, Harrison,” he says in his light, smoky voice. “Mind if I—?”
Fuck. Someone saw what happened and reported it to Gary.
Or else Hoyt himself went crying to him like a baby.
Now he’s here to talk to me.
I’m in deep shit.
I’m off the bed and pulling open the door at once. “Hey, Gary. Uh, look, I’m sorry about Hoyt, but today he was—”
“My brother’s comin’ over for dinner tonight, and I wanted to invite everyone to the main house,” he goes on, steamrolling over my words. “Y’know, what with Nadine busy organizin’ her things n’ preparing to take office at the end of June, she’s apparently working late again, leaving Paul by himself. So I called him over, and I think he’d love y’all’s company.”
I stare at him, my breath held.
So … he doesn’t know?
“Okay,” I finally manage to say. “Okay, so, uh, I guess I’ll get some clothes on and come on over in a few.”
“An hour at most, food will be ready. I already told Lea, so the others know.” Gary smiles, his mustache spreading and his eyes twinkling. “Well, guess I’ll leave you to it.” He turns to go, then stops. “Oh, and great work today with the new kid. Already got a good earful from him.”
I freeze again. “Uh … a good earful …?”
“Says he’s learnin’ just ‘bout everything there’s to learn, more than he expected to. Guess you’re a good teacher, huh? We might make a farmer outta him yet.” Gary chuckles at that, then sees his way out. I’m left standing at the door, still in a towel, staring after him in a daze.
I put on one of my nicer button-up shirts, a light blue plaid, with some jeans and boots. I usually don’t make too much of a fuss over how I look for a simple Strong dinner, but no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get calm.