College is the fresh start Mackenna Baker is hoping for, but her past follows her from the small town she left behind like a ghost. She does her best to ignore them and no matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to actually let them go. Shovin...
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The girls have been here for a few days, it's the Fourth of July now, and I have been nice by still taking it easy on them with my plan of turning them into my little ranch hands. They've seen how we do both morning and night feedings, how to groom a horse, clean out their hooves and tack them up for a ride.
This morning, I plan on changing that.
Wesley and I have already been up for a few, long enough to share a couple soft kisses before climbing out of bed and he's gone down to start some coffee before coming back up to get changed.
I have already gotten dressed in some jeans and a Johnny Cash Man In Black album t-shirt of Wesley's I accidentally bleached so he let me crop it and keep it. I'm currently in the bathroom fighting my hair, the humidity in the air hasn't been fun the past couple weeks and I'm already over the summer heat.
"I gotta piss, can you leave?" Miles grumbles from behind me.
"You're disgusting," I roll my eyes, giving up on my hair.
He steps around me and flicks me up the back of the head. "I'd leave now if you don't want to be scarred for life," he tells me, his hands reaching for the waistband of his black basketball shorts.
"I'm out!" I raise my hands, conceding before crossing the threshold, Miles swiftly shutting the door behind me. "Wesley, come up here please!" I call out through the house as I walk back to our bedroom, leaving the door open.
"Be right there!" Wesley shouts back.
"Stupid fucking moisture in the air," I gripe to myself, racking a hand through my wilder than normal curls.
"What's wrong?" my boyfriend asks as he enters our room, finding me at the foot of our bed.
"I'm this close—" I pinch my index and thumb together, "—to chopping off all my hair."
Wesley snickers with an eye roll. "You wouldn't."
"Wanna bet?"
"Prove it."
"Get the damn scissors."
"You're not cutting your hair."
"Why? You think you can tell me what I can and can't do with my hair? It's on my head. My choice."
"What happened to my happy girlfriend from five minutes ago?"
"Don't try to be cute right now," I fold my arms over my chest.
"I'm not trying to be. Just curious how my girl was so happy when I went down to make coffee and now she's all grumpy."
"Her hair is untamable in this humidity and she's over it."
"What can I do to help?" he asks. "Without a pair of scissors," he continues before I can say anything.
