Hated by My Roommate (Shacked Up Love)

Seems to me she didn’t take that as tying her up, so I think back to earlier today when I said I wanted to learn about ranching. I’d rather wear chaps—bare-assed—than get on this horse but looking at the smile that splits Sydney’s face makes me a happy man. I want to be the one to always put a smile on her face. And because of this, I am about to mount a wild animal.

Ok, maybe not wild, but still an animal.

Sydney goes through the motions of saddling the horse and bringing him out to the paddock. “You’ll just ride him around here and I’ll have the reins in my hand the whole time.”

“Why don’t you ride it with me?”

“Him,” is her response.

“What?” I ask.

“Him. Oreo is a him, not an it.”

“You know what I mean. Why don’t you ride him with me?”

Sydney purses her lips, and after a few moments of contemplation, says, “Ok, cowboy. You have a deal.”

We mount the horse—which was a process, let me tell you—and once we’re both settled in the saddle with her in front of me, away we go.

As we trot across the grass, the way Sydney’s body moves against mine has my cock stirring to life. All of that turned-on-ness goes away as soon as Sydney has the horse run a bit. Now, I’m just trying to hang on for dear life.

“You ready for a real ride, cowboy?” Sydney says over her shoulder.

I grip her hips tighter, not sure what she has planned. “Whatever you want.” Because it’s here and now, I realize I will do anything for this woman.

She leads the horse out of the paddock area and into a field blooming with wildflowers. The horse takes off in a quick gallop, and my curse words get carried away by the wind.

It’s a lovely countryside, but I didn’t take note of any details before I squeezed my eyes shut from fear of falling off. After a good distance away from the house, she slows the horse.

“We can get off here and let the horse rest.” She dismounts, and I climb down more gracefully than I got up on this ride. “What did you think?”

Now that I’m on the ground, I guess it wasn’t horrible. “I can see the appeal.” My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket. “Let me take this,” I tell her when I see who is calling.

She nods, and I walk toward a row of bushes as she strokes Oreo’s long neck.

“I’m busy,” I answer.

“Tobias,” Mark McManus, owner of Halo Records, says into the phone.

“What do you want?”

“I hope you took some time to go over what we discussed the other day.”

I roll my eyes, moving further away from Sydney until I’m behind a crooked oak tree. “Not gonna happen,” I grit out.

He chuckles. “Oh, it’ll happen. You’ll see. I’ll call you tomorrow with the details.”

I disconnect before he can say anything more and head back toward Sydney.

While Oreo wanders around poking his nose in the patches of bluebonnets, we sit in the sea of grass.

“Who was that on the phone?” Sydney asks, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun.

I shove the phone into my pocket. “Nobody.”

She studies me for a second before she drops her hand and leans back on her palms. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“Yeah.” I pluck a blade of grass and twiddle it between my fingers. “I couldn’t imagine growing up like this.”

“How did you grow up? I mean, you told me a little bit.” Her gray eyes focus on me, and I want to tell her everything about my life. Every single aspect. Every minute that led me to this spot here with her.

“Alone, mostly. My parents were always out getting high, and I was an afterthought. We lived in a dangerous neighborhood, so I guess I was always on high alert. Took me years to lose the constant worry that something bad was about to happen.” The reason I tell no one about my past is because I don’t want to face the pity in their eyes.

However, Sydney has none shining there. And I want to thank her for it. She scoots closer. “And look at everything you’ve achieved. I bet if you had everything handed to you, you probably wouldn’t have worked so hard to get away. You’re living the dream.”

“Are you living your dream?”

She shrugs. “Yes, I love my life.”

I raise a brow. “Really? That’s your dream? To run your father’s company?”

She sighs. “I don’t know.” She leans close to me, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “I just want to be happy. And I’m happiest when I’m writing songs.”

“Then, write.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

I smile. “It is that easy.”

“I like the way you’re so certain about things.”

She has no idea. I’ve already thought about my whole life with her, and in our future, she’s not running her father’s company. Instead, I’m helping her father while she pursues what interests her. Because I would do that for her. I’d do anything for her.