Roped In

Jumping off the hay bale, he rushed up behind me. “Hold up, princess, there’s something else I need you to do.”


“Seriously?” I scoffed. “I’ve been shoveling your horse shit all day. I might be in hiding, but I still have a job to do.”

He motioned for me to follow him. “Like what?”

Rolling my eyes, I followed behind him. “My songs don’t write themselves. As soon as I get back home, I’m going to be expected to have some songs to record. Being knee-deep in shit doesn’t exactly give me inspiration.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You write your own songs?”

“Shocked?” I countered.

We walked inside and past the staircase. “A little. I thought most of the singers out there only sang shit other people wrote for them.”

“Just goes to show how ignorant you are.”

He let the comment go and led me into a bedroom where clothes were scattered all over the floor and the bed was unmade. Mouth gaping, I stepped over one of the mounds of dirty clothes.

“Uh, what are we doing in here?”

The room smelled exactly like him, all done up in earthy tones; very cowboyish, with fur-skinned rugs on the floor. There were plaques on the wall, but I couldn’t see what they said. Maybe they were given to him for being Douchebag of the Year. Even on the fireplace mantle there were pictures of him and other people, including one with him and a young woman. I wondered who she was.

He waved toward the mess, grabbing my attention. “I need you to clean all this up. I have a date tonight and I don’t want her seeing it like this.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Lifting his shirt, he tossed it on the dirty mound of clothes and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Not at all, princess. You need to hurry before she gets here. I don’t think she’ll like seeing another woman in my room.” Turning his back to me, he lowered his jeans and boxers to the floor, and grabbed the towel that was on his bed, wrapping it around his waist.

I didn’t see his backside because I was blinded by anger. As he turned back around, I picked up an armful of his dirty clothes, and hurled them at him as hard as I could. His hands lifted, making him lose his grip on the towel. “Clean up your own damn room, asshole! I’m out of here.”

Storming out the door, I rushed upstairs and packed my bag.

“Hadley, wait,” Blake shouted. He raced up the stairs, but I locked the door before he could get in. As fast as I could, I searched through the phone until I found the number for a cab service. Blake knocked on the door, his voice softer. “Please open up, so we can talk.”

Dialing the number, I flipped him off even though he couldn’t see me. “Go fuck yourself. It’s too late for that.”

I requested the cab and hung up quickly. The sooner I could get out of that house, the better. Once I was all packed, I stood by the window until I could see the cab coming down the driveway. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I slammed open the door. Blake’s head jerked up and he lifted his hands in defeat. At least he’d had the decency to put his pants back on.

“Don’t go,” he said. “Let me explain.”

Huffing, I pushed past him and rushed down the stairs. “I don’t want to hear a single thing you have to say. It’s obvious you don’t want me here. You treat your horses better than you treat me.”

“Where the hell are you going to go? You’re under my protection.”

I stopped at the door and opened it wide, the cab crunching on the gravel as it came to a stop. At this point, I was more exhausted and lonely than angry. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and faced him. “I’m a big girl, Mr. Evans. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to keep me safe. But I have to say, I’m sorely disappointed.”

His jaw clenched. “With what?” he asked.

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