Only With Me (Sugarland Creek #4)

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Harlow

Harlow: What feels better for a guy? Jerking off or having someone else do it? And then do men prefer a woman’s mouth or hand more?

Waylon: Harlow…it’s seven in the morning.

Harlow: Oh, shit. Were you sleeping? Sorry!

Waylon: Physically, no. Mentally, yes.

Harlow: I thought you were up at like 5.

Waylon: 5:30-6ish.

Harlow: Okay, so you’ve been up for over an hour. What’s the problem?

Waylon: I don’t usually talk about blow jobs before noon. Especially on a Monday.

I roll my eyes because I know he’s messing with me.

We’ve been talking every day, all day, for the past week and it’s been a lot of fun. Way better than having to Google or read through Reddit forums. But we’ve also talked about other stuff, some more personal, and some simple like our favorite movies and artists.

It’s made the anxiety about the incident go away and my attacker’s potential probation.

Even more so now that I found out he was denied probation. There were added pending charges to his case that weren’t there before. When I looked up the codes, they were for assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder. I can only assume without asking my lawyer to look into it that he must’ve been in a prison fight, perhaps with a shank, and it must’ve been bad enough that they’re adding time to his existing time.

Thank God.

I won’t know for sure until he gets sentenced, but it was enough of a relief not to stress about it in the meantime.

Safe to say, I’ve been in a great mood for several reasons.

Harlow: I might have more questions by then.

Waylon: I have no doubt.

Waylon: Guys like being touched anywhere, in any variety. We’re not picky.

Harlow: Will you show me?

Waylon: Show you what?

Harlow: How you jerk off…like the movements and what feels good. I imagine there’s some kind of rhythm to it…I want to see how a guy touches themselves so I know what they like.

Waylon: You want to watch me come?

Harlow: Yeah…you watched me.

Waylon: Technically, I didn’t. I only heard you.

Harlow: Well you weren’t the one learning, so you didn’t need to. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can use a banana to demonstrate.

Waylon: Jesus Christ.

I laugh because I can hear his annoyed voice in my head.

Harlow: Or I’ll get a banana and you tell me what to do.

Waylon: No banana.

Harlow: What about a cucumber?

Waylon: No.

Harlow: An eggplant?

Waylon: The fuck? No.

Harlow: Then WHAT??

Waylon: I’ll show you on myself.

I do a little happy dance in my bed because I knew he’d cave.

Harlow: Great. When?

Waylon: When do you need to learn by?

Harlow: Well, I have a date on Friday afternoon at the cafe.

I’ve been talking to this guy from the app, Emery. Since I need the experience and figured there was no harm in it, I agreed. He’s a few years older and prefers getting to know someone in person, so we’ve only been texting a little here and there.

But I’m only teasing about needing to learn by then. No way I’m touching anyone’s dick on the first date.

But I enjoy Waylon’s reactions too much not to mess with him.

Except, when he doesn’t respond after an hour, I message him again in case he got busy at work and forgot.

Harlow: Are you free tonight?

It takes him twenty more minutes but he finally responds.

Waylon: Sure. How’s 8?

Harlow: Works for me.

Last Thursday during Natalie’s and mine weekly virtual hang out, we spent most of the time catching up and her squealing at everything I told her about Waylon.

She claims he must like me because no other guy would “teach” a girl how to masturbate and answer all of my questions. But I told her she was crazy because Waylon doesn’t see me that way. If he did, there’s no way he’d be okay with me talking about dating other guys and wanting to learn so I can hook up with them.

But when I told her I wasn’t having much luck on the app, she told me about the “emoji test.”

“Send them one emoji—completely random, it doesn’t have to be anything specific—and see how they respond. If they play along and send one back, they’re worth talkin’ to. If they reply with something snarky or rude, block. No more wastin’ your time.”

I figured I had nothing to lose at this point. Almost every guy I’ve started a conversation with ended in ghosting me or I blocked them for being a creep.

So when Emery responded to my prompt, I replied with a duck emoji.

He responded with a goose.

Then, I sent a turtle.

He replied with a fish.

But then, I sent an eagle with a fish.

Finally, he broke the emoji battle and said I’d won because my eagle ate his fish.

I found it humorous enough to give him thirty minutes of my time to chat. The following day, another thirty minutes. And then yesterday, he asked to meet in person.

Since I’ll only go to public places, I suggested The Grindhouse. It’s the one place in Sugarland Creek that won’t put on a lot of pressure to sit through a whole meal. If things go well, maybe he’ll ask me out for a second date. Until then, meeting over coffee will do.

Admittedly, I’m not overly excited about it. Mostly because I don’t know that much about him. However, he seems cool enough and looks cute in his photos to at least give him a chance. Even if we’re not compatible, it’ll be nice to get experience to find out what is or isn’t my type.

Harlow: I have my session with Noah at three. You wanna come watch?

I only had one last week with the holiday, but went out on my day’s off to ride Piper. The weather has been in the forties and fifties, and even dropping to the thirties at night, but if I don’t get out of my house when I’m not working, I’ll go stir crazy. My seasonal depressional comes out in full force and although it’s been better than when I was diagnosed with it years ago, I know I need to keep myself busy during the winter so I don’t become a hermit in my bed.

However, Moose very much enjoys it when I do.

Waylon: We start getting the trail horses ready for the afternoon tour around 3:30, but if I can, I’ll swing by for a few.

Harlow: Okay, cool. When are you bringing Bentley to the ranch again?

Waylon: Saturday afternoon. Why?

Harlow: Thought it might be cool to hang out with him again. Maybe the three of us can go riding.

Waylon: He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?

Harlow: Very funny, you sicko. I thought he’d enjoy riding up the mountains, especially with the snowcaps. It’d be a beautiful view.

Waylon: I’m sure he would. I’ll ask him.

Harlow: Just don’t let me fall on my ass again. I bruise easily as it is.

Waylon: I won’t.

Harlow: Okay, I’m off to work for a few hours. Then I gotta find a cute outfit for Friday. If he’s on the shorter side, should I wear flats instead of heels?

Waylon: Uhh…how short are we talking?

Harlow: His profile says he’s 5’9, but Natalie says guys always lie about their height on dating apps, so he could be shorter.

Considering I’m five-foot-seven, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable if he doesn’t like girls being taller than him. Waylon’s a good six or seven inches taller than me, so he probably doesn’t care either way if girls wear flats or heels.

Waylon: No, I’d definitely wear heels. The taller the better. Short guys like that.

I contemplate asking if he’s lying, but he’s been nothing but honest with me, especially when it comes to sex stuff and dating. So I take his word for it.

Harlow: Okay, perfect because the boutique got in the cutest ankle boots but they have a five-inch heel.

Waylon: That should work. He’ll feel more confident knowing his height isn’t an issue for you.

Harlow: Great, thanks!

I get ready for work and am relieved I’m not working with Ashley today. She’s nice enough, but she talks nonstop and as someone who was homeschooled for five years and didn’t have a normal high school experience, I find it uncomfortable when someone gossips about their “friends.” It’s one thing if she was saying nice things about them, but she’s not.

I’ve concluded she was probably a mean girl in high school, and ten years later, she’s still mentally there. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I’ve never been interested in talking shit about my so-called friends. After everything I’ve experienced, I’ve learned that you never know what someone else is going through behind closed doors, so it costs nothing to be nice.

Even now, I don’t have many friends. Although I have a lot of acquaintances—the other girls at work, Noah, Magnolia, Ellie from the ranch, the people in the horse club group chat, and some others I’ve met at show horse jumping events—I don’t consistently talk to them or share personal details of my life.

Delilah and Natalie were the only two, and now Waylon, who I consider being close to.

And I can’t imagine ever saying anything mean or hurtful about them.

“Hello, welcome!” I greet as another customer walks through the door. “Lemme know if I can help y’all find anything.”

“Thanks.” Two women smile at me before browsing the other side of the store.

“So this date on Friday…” Marissa comes and stands next to me, grabbing sweaters to fold so we look busy. “What’re you wearin’?”

I showed her Emery’s profile earlier when the store was empty and told her we were meeting up Friday for coffee. She’s a couple years older and way more experienced in the world of dating than me.

“Those new ankle boots we got in with jeans and a blue sweater.”

“The ones with the five-inch heels?”

“Yeah. Thought they’d be cute but hopefully I won’t slip or fall on my ass. That wouldn’t make a good first impression,” I say with a nervous chuckle.

“You’re gonna wear heels ? On a date with a man who’s less than six-feet tall?”

My shoulders drop, and I turn to look at her. “Is that bad?”

“It is if you don’t wanna be taller than him.”

“I thought that meant I was showin’ him I was okay with his height and that he didn’t haveta be insecure if I was taller than him with heels?”

“Who told you that?” she asks around a fit of giggles.

My heart pounds in frustration because why would Waylon lie to me?

“A guy friend.”

This time her head falls back on her shoulders she’s cackling so hard. “A guy friend…who’s clearly in love with you.”

“No he’s not!” I almost laugh at the idea of Waylon liking me that way.

“Why else would he try and jeopardize your date?”

“To be fair, he’s like six-two, so maybe he doesn’t know because he’s always taller than most girls.”

Marissa’s face twists in an expression that tells me she’s not buying it.

“What?” I ask.

“That man doesn’t want your date to go well.”

I’m not about to admit I’m a virgin and that he’s been teaching me about sex, so I shrug and drop it.

And fuck worrying about a man’s height, I’m getting the cute ankle boots for me .

When I finish my shift at work, I go home and change into riding clothes. I kiss my parents goodbye, give Moose some love and attention, and then drive to the ranch.

“Hey, sweet girl…” I rub my palm up Piper’s nose and give her some praise. “You ready to get outta here and stretch your legs?”

After I put on her tack, I lead us out to the training center. Noah’s helping me sign up for local events that’ll start up in a few months, and although I’m still new to the sport, I’m looking forward to this next season. It’ll be a nice change of pace and keep me busy.

“Hi,” I say when I see Waylon and Wilder bundled up in hats and jackets standing next to Noah, surprised they’re both here.

“Hey,” they reply in unison.

“Looks like you have an audience today, so we’ll start with a course run before we do her exercises,” Noah says, looking suspiciously at her brothers.

“He dragged me here to help with the rails.” Wilder points to Waylon. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you jump before, so you better show me your best.” He winks.

“I’ll try, just for you.” I smirk, securing on my helmet. “But I need to warm her up quickly.”

I hop on and run a few laps around the arena. Every time I pass by Waylon, he’s watching me intently while Wilder plays on his phone. Noah’s watching me too, but she’s looking at my posture and Piper’s trotting.

“You ready?” Noah asks.

“As long as no more loose goats come in and scare my horse…” I arch a brow at Wilder and his mouth drops open.

“Oh, come on. That was one time!”

Waylon shakes his head. “And you’re the reason she fell on her ass.”

“Blame that on Landen for not helpin’ me when I asked him for an extra hand. Those little fuckers are quick and feisty. Be happy only one got out.”

Noah snorts. “I made sure the back doors are closed. That way we won’t freeze our asses off either.”

“Good call,” Waylon says, glancing up at me but then shifts his gaze back to Noah.

We haven’t exactly told anyone in his family that we’ve been talking or that he’s been coaching me on dating. I’m not sure how they’d react to that news, so I don’t blame him entirely for not wanting to make it obvious with his siblings around.

“Anyway…let’s show ‘em whatcha got.” Noah grins, grabbing her clipboard and timer.

The rails are about three feet from the ground, but I’m hoping to start practicing closer to four feet and eventually two rails so I can enter more challenging competitions. Even if I don’t compete in national shows, I like pushing myself and making goals to prove I can do it.

Piper and I get into position and when Noah gives the signal, she takes off for the first jump. I stay focused on the obstacle and guide her with each jump. After the fifth, she’s flawlessly completed all of them and then I hear cheering on the sidelines, almost forgetting they were watching.

“Wow, y’all killed that one!” Noah claps. “You didn’t come to play ‘round today.”

Wilder looks impressed but Waylon looks proud and in awe.

Honestly though, I was zoned in and wanted to show all of them that we still had it after a few rough weeks.

“Damn, girl. You got the moves.” Wilder holds out his hand for a high-five and bring Piper closer to reach him.

“You did tell me to do my best.” I shrug bashfully. “Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

Although I’m only teasing, Waylon’s shoulders tense the more Wilder beams at me.

“Guess I’ll haveta come to all of your practices and shows from now on.”

“Please, Lord no.” Noah groans, and I laugh at her reaction.

“I take offense to that!” Wilder nudges her.

“Good, it was meant to be offensive.”

Waylon chuckles at Noah and Wilder’s antics as he walks away from them and comes to my other side. He clasps his hand around my upper thigh and squeezes. “Thanks for lettin’ us watch. We gotta get the horses ready for the next tour, but I’ll talk to you tonight?” He lowers his voice so only I can hear him, even though I’m confident Wilder is trying to eavesdrop.

“Yeah, sounds good.” I smile, overly aware of his fingers digging into my riding pants and how close they are to the inside of my leg.

He nods once then releases me but my heart continues to pound.

“Wilder, let’s go,” he hollers, walking toward the exit and then waits for his brother to catch up before they leave together.

“Well now that I know you can put on a show, let’s do some flatwork and get her prepared to go to the next level,” Noah says.

“Sounds good!”

Flatwork improves her responsiveness to various gait transitions and then we’ll work on patterns and side movement. Between that, jumping exercises, and conditioning, my lesson goes by quickly. When we’re closer to the season starting, I’ll have extra sessions so we can work on show prep and go through everything the judges look for in a performance.

I’m still thinking about how Waylon touched me hours later after practice and wondering if Marissa is right. Would he give me bad dating advice on purpose because he thinks of me as more than a friend?

There’s just no way.

Waylon’s a fantasy, like crushing on a celebrity, there’s no point in even considering it could happen or getting your hopes up because it’s so farfetched.

But the more I try talking to guys on the dating app, the less invested I get in wanting to date any of them. The only reason I agreed to one with Emery is because he didn’t say anything creepy, rude, or offensive.

God .

The bar is truly in hell if those are the only requirements.