Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but not with a known criminal,” Kat presses. “I think I speak for us all when I say you need to tread carefully here. I know you know, but I have to say it.”
“Mason seems to really know what he’s doing,” I say, thinking it will help quell their fears, but all it does is make all three of my friends squeal and I roll my eyes.
“Ohhh, first name basis,” Zara teases.
“Does he?” Kat wiggles her eyebrows. “Does he know what he’s doing?”
“You guys are so mature,” I deadpan, fully knowing I’m the ringleader with things like this.
“It’s a shame you didn’t see him,” Elsie goes on. “He showed up in gray sweatpants and I could see the entire outline of his dick.”
“You could not,” I laugh. “I know because I looked.” We laugh and then direct our attention to our horses. Loki and George are happy to just walk around but Thor is a little more energetic, and Elsie’s young horse, Mystery, is in a mood today. It’s a good distraction like always and our little mock show group lesson was so much fun.
“You two are doing well,” Brenda, our trainer, tells me when the lesson ends. “Are you considering going to a show this summer?”
“I am,” I tell her honestly. I will consider it, but if I actually go is a different question. I grew up showing horses with my younger sister, but haven’t been in a show ring in over a decade. I have no doubt Thor and I would do decently enough going over low jumps, and I can go and keep the pressure off myself by having an attitude of just having fun.
But I want to go just to prove to myself that I can do it. Because as much as I hate admitting it, sometimes I hear that little voice of doubt in the back of my mind. I didn’t always have it, but years of being with someone who very carefully crafted each and every mean thing they said messed with me. Complex-PTSD is, well, complex, as the name suggests. I’ve worked with many clients who suffer from it, and I know how truly difficult it can be to tell that little voice to fuck off.
“There’s one in August I want you to go to,” Brenda says. “If you go, I’m sure Kat will go.”
“That might tempt me.” I smile and take Thor back into the barn to untack. I pick up my phone off the saddle rack and see a text from Addison, my secretary-slash-scheduler. She manages my calendar and answers phone calls from clients looking to book appointments.
Addison: I penciled in a session at 2PM. Seemed urgent. New client: Mason H
“This place is pretty nice.” Mason shuts the door behind him. It’s exactly two in the afternoon and Mason was annoyingly on time for his appointment. “I did expect a couch so I could lay down and cry while I talk about my childhood traumas.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan and lean back, crossing my arms. I’m seated behind my desk, which is in the corner of my high-rise office. I don’t usually sit at the desk while I have sessions, feeling like it’s too formal and not friendly enough, but for whatever the hell this is, I’m staying put.
It’s not because I want to put distance between us or anything. No, that’s not it at all, and Mason doesn’t look good in a suit. So help me god, he doesn’t.
Hah.
“How are you holding up?” He takes a seat in one of the chairs across from me.
“I’m good,” I tell him.
“You sleep okay last night?”
It took me a while to fall asleep last night, and my fear of laying in bed, unable to fall asleep while my mind whirls, is something I’m still working on. “Yeah,” I say. And I did sleep well…once I finally fell asleep. “You?”
“I sleep like a baby. A naked one.”
I just make a face, trying my best not to imagine Mason naked. I fail. “So…why are you here?”
“Ah, straight to the point. I like it.” He gets something from inside his jacket pocket and gets up, coming to my desk. “To give you this, for starters.”
“Uh, thanks?” I take the brand new iPhone from him and cock an eyebrow.
“It’s your new phone,” he starts. “Check it out. Passcode is zero-one-seven-five-five-seven-seven. You can change it to something easier to remember.”
I tap the screen and lean back in surprise when I see a picture of myself on the screen. I’m standing next to Thor…only it’s not us. Because I’ve never taken him trail riding in the woods.
“The fuck?”
“What you said about your social media got me thinking, so I had our tech department set something up. Mya has an Instagram, a Facebook that’s pretty locked down on private, and a TikTok. You’ve only posted a few horse videos and mostly repost things about horses.”