CHAPTER SIX: BEFORE ANY OF US

We lay here for years or for hours
Your hand in my hand
So still and discreet
So long we become the flowers
We'd feed well the land
And worry the sheep

And they'd find us in a week

(In a Week, Hozier)

TUESDAY
ALICE

My team is all smiles when I gift them each with a pair of genuine leather cowboy boots. It's a larger-than-life purchase on Carlisle's plastic, but I know he'll forgive me. It's been a long time since I've gone overboard shopping. Besides, only one of the pairs are actually for me. There's no way Carlisle — Dr. Generous himself — will begrudge my giving spirit.

In fact, I'm sure he'll be just as thrilled as I am.

Our shoot goes seamlessly after the addition of proper footwear. Jasper's suggestion works without a hitch, helping us through all types of terrain without a single issue. We all manage to stay upright, and any mud that gets kicked up just slides off the polished leather. We're all clean, and comfortable, and happy.

It's a long day, but a great one. I hand out my optimism like it'll never run out, cheering my team along until we collect all the shots we had planned for today, and most of the looks we missed yesterday, too. It's a freakin' miracle.

The boots even make it into most of the shots. I think, Hell, why not? They compliment my designs strangely well. I like how they look. Then, I think, Jasper will like them, too.

That alone is enough to justify the purchase.

When we're all done for the day and back at the ranch, I volunteer to stay back at the cabins to get our equipment put away while the others head off to dinner. It'll add an extra ten minutes to my day, but ensures that everything is done properly.

Besides — when I'm done, I'll have the time, the quiet, and the privacy to start uploading images onto James' laptop. I'll be able to see how everything turned out without having anyone breathing over my shoulder.

I'll miss dinner, but I'm not that hungry anyways.

James insists on staying to help me. I turn his offer down, more than once. If James stays, I'll get his immediate judgement on the pictures we took today. I appreciate the man's artistic vision, of course, but there's something to be said about having time alone with my designs before someone drops in to start complaining about the exposure, or the rule of thirds, or whatever.

As I'm cleaning up, I notice we've got everything — cameras, stands, lighting meters — everything except our first memory card; the one we filled before switching to the card currently in the camera.

I check James' camera bag first, to no avail. I check the ground around me, my purse, pockets, my usual tote bag filled with necessities — nothing.

Okay, I think. It's okay. Keep calm. You'll find it. Check again.

When I come up empty handed a second time, the loud tick, tick, tick of my panicked heart starts ringing in my ears.

Think, Alice. Think! Where'd you put the card when James handed it to you?

I remember being in the field. I remember that we moved to a spot by the river for awhile, right when the sun was setting. I think that's when James gave me the card. But where'd I put it? I rack my brain for answers until I have the vague recollection of throwing the card in my tote bag — the one I'd already checked multiple times.

It's a hard realization to swallow, but I know, deep down, that the stupid little square isn't here. People have been in and out of my tote all day. It's been dragged from location to location, and dropped carelessly on the ground more than once.

Which means the memory card must be out there somewhere. It got knocked out, or fell out, but it's certainly not here.

I've got to go find it. James made the memory card my responsibility. If I lost it — especially after the catastrophe that was yesterday — I'm going to look like a damn idiot not only to him, but the entirety of our group. That just won't do.

So — with my phone in hand and boots on my feet, I make my way back out into the twilight.

I'll check the path, I'll check the field, and I'll check by the river. If I can't find the card in any of those spots, I'll give up, I tell myself, but at the very least you've got to try.

About half way to the path I'm looking for, I hear the unmistakable click of hooves on the ground behind me. For a split second I'm spooked out of my skin — convinced that an animal is charging at me — and I jump a foot forward before finding the courage to glance over my shoulder.

"Hey! Alice!"

It's just Jasper.

I stop moving, trying desperately to regain my calm.

Jasper is sitting atop a horse that's much taller than me. He makes a low, throaty noise and the beautiful, chestnut coloured beast comes to a halt only a few feet away.

Before today, the word 'cowboy' hadn't meant anything to me, past the outfit. It was all theoretical.

But somewhere between Jasper's early morning emergency, dropping a small fortune in a 'cowboy town', spending a second afternoon with Seth, and this: witnessing Jasper perched atop a horse like it's his main method of transportation — which I realize it very well might be — 'cowboy' has become a very real, tangible thing.

An attractive thing.

My eyes are tacked to Jasper's form as he dismounts his horse, pulling it towards me by the reins.

The horse is huge, intimidatingly so. Its big black eyes are level with my forehead and unreadable in the early evening dark. Its shoulders are high above mine. I take a hesitant step back.

Jasper doesn't notice my caution. Or if he does, he's kind enough not to mention it.

The blonde man hangs the reigns over a nearby fencepost and wipes his hands together before turning back to face me. I've been silent this whole time, mesmerized by his actions.

"I've been lookin' for you all afternoon. I thought I might find you at dinner," Jasper tells me. "I was just gonna go check there for you now."

I stay glued to my spot, unsure what to do except let the man approach me.

I expect to be overwhelmed by his annoyingly confident presence, like I have been since the first time we met, but something about the dynamic between us has shifted. Like maybe — somehow — he's the one who's nervous.

I've learned so much about Jasper since last night, all without seeing his face once. I look at the blonde now and the angelic enigma I once saw has been replaced by someone human — a flawed human, at that. Jasper is formidable — tall, body hard as stone — but now I can see all his wounds, too. I see a little boy still struggling with loss — I see a man mourning his family, slowly crumbling to the ground as he tries to carry their impossible dream on his tired shoulders. I see the cracks in his confidence, the tired in his eyes. I can see how vulnerable he is.

Like me.

Like anyone.

"You're lucky you caught me," I tell him. I'd be surprised if Jasper heard any of it — my voice is barely above a croak.

Jasper smiles and it nearly knocks me off balance. He reaches one hand up and takes off his hat, bringing it to rest down at his side. It's a show of respect, I think. It feels like it. His smile spreads wider across his face. The sight of him keeps messing with my balance, but before I fall flat on my face, Jasper turns his head down and I find a moment to catch myself.

"I'm sorry about this morning," Jasper says, all bashful. He toes at the dirt.

"Oh." I stand a little taller. "That's okay," I tell him, reaching up to fidget with my hair. "Peter took me."

"He did," Jasper confirms, eyes darting up just briefly to meet mine. "Tells me you bought up half the store."

I laugh, and Jasper follows in my lead.

"Yeah," I quietly say. "Something like that." My voice has disappeared into the fluttering pit that was once my stomach, and I think my brain might disappear next. I feel pretty pathetic, standing here with nothing to say. All I can do is watch him.

The only good news is that Jasper is just as quiet.

After a very pregnant pause, I manage: "Peter told me you had a bit of a ranch emergency this morning."

Thank God — there's my voice!

"Yeah — something like that," Jasper echoes. After a beat, he keeps talking, running fast through his words. "If you can wait half a minute I'll put Ginger away 'n we can walk up to the mess hall together. I'll tell you all about it."

"Oh. I'll — I can — I can just meet you there," I struggle to say. "I left something out in the field, so I'm going to go out there first and then I'll meet everyone."

"You goin' by yourself?" Jasper questions, sounding apprehensive.

I tilt my head, arch an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah?"

"In the dark?"

I nod my head and Jasper lets out a breathy laugh, blonde curls falling into his face when he shakes his head side to side. Jasper shifts back and forth on his feet and worries his lips together, like there's something he's trying to keep from saying.

"What?" I ask, crossing my arms indignantly.

"You're just — you never do what I expect of ya," Jasper tells me, all matter-of-fact. "Smaller than a tick 'n you're out here just —" he chuckles again, unable to finish a single thought.

I have no clue what to say. My mouth pops open in utter disbelief as Jasper simply turns away, muttering and chuckling to himself. He saunters back over to the horse, and once he's with the animal— Ginger's — Jasper turns back to face to a very petrified me.

"Well come on, then," he says. "We can take ya — but I don't want to miss all of dinner, so let's go."

It takes a moment for me to piece together what Jasper is suggesting. I look between him and the horse as he unhooks it from the fence, moving the reins over to the back of its neck. "Oh, no," I sternly reply. "No, thank you, but I'm fine. I can walk."

There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that horse.

"That's a ten minute walk at least," Jasper reminds me, "three minutes on horse."

"I'm fine."

" … You're a-ok walkin' alone, in the dark, into a field full of God-knows-what, but you're afraid of gettin' on this here horse? I ain't ever met a woman with your sensibilities."

"I'm not afraid," I throw back, lying through my teeth. Who comes to a ranch when they're literally afraid of horses?

"Oh sure you ain't — and I bet you thought all about facin' nature at night, too. Ready to right hook a coyote if you need to, huh?"

Jasper has a fantastic point, but I can't have him knowing that I hadn't thought about coyotes. Or snakes. Or bugs. Or whatever else lies in the Texas wilderness come nightfall. The thought of coming face to face with a natural born predator raises goosebumps across my skin.

Still, I feign confidence. "Right," I insist. "I just like to walk."

"Right," Jasper agrees, playing into my righteous lie. "So you don't mind if I ride alongside you, then?"

"No," I say, head held high. "Not at all."

" — Because it'd be irresponsible for me to let you go alone, y'know, and I certainly don't feel like walkin' all that way."

"I respect that," I say casually.

Internally, I'm anything but calm. I've been waiting for this alone time with Jasper since I woke up first thing this morning. Even if he is teasing me and insisting on riding that thing, I'll take whatever time I can get.

Jasper throws me a quick smile and then easily makes his way back up onto the horse.

When Ginger begins to move and I startle again, Jasper lets out a throaty laugh. "She's not gonna hurt ya," he promises. "Ging is just about the sweetest thing 'round here."

I keep my distance anyways. Ginger and I will — respectfully — remain unacquainted.

We walk in silence for a minute, the only sounds in my universe the rhythmic click of Ginger beside me and the humming of cicadas I've grown so accustomed to. It's alright, really, being this close to the horse. She hasn't caused any trouble, and her huffing breath is proving to be rather soothing. I could get use to her company, given the time. Her and I are almost on good terms.

Jasper and I? That's a different story. I have no idea where we stand. We've both been quiet and as we walk towards the fields, that doesn't seem to change.

I wonder if he's alright. I wonder if he's upset. I wonder if he's tired. I wonder if he sees me, like I see him. I want to know everything he's thinking.

"So — what are you gonna do with all those boots?" Jasper eventually asks me, clearing his throat before he does.

I start to laugh, breaking the awkward tension that's been hanging between us. "They're not all for me, Jasper," I explain.

"You sure? You could just go ahead 'n wear one pair every day of the week. I'm sure you got enough."

I shake my head. Blush floods my face and thankfully, it's hidden by the darkness.

"I did, in fact," I say, " but like I said, they're not all for me. I got a pair for everyone on the team."

"Jesus Christ," Jasper mutters. "I was bein' facetious! You're telling' me you got eight pairs of cowboy boots?"

"Hell yes I did," I proudly say. Jasper starts to laugh. "You really stimulated the local economy with your suggestion, I hope you know."

"Didn't expect that," Jasper said. "Wasn't even sure you'd buy one pair."

"I'm a sucker for a good shoe."

"No kiddin'," Jasper plainly says.

I turn and throw the man a grateful smile.

Jasper isn't looking in my direction, but I don't mind. It's nice to just watch him like this, in his natural habitat. We fall back into silence, but this one I like. This one feels like an understanding between friends — like two people committed to savouring one moment.

Through the darkness, I can make out that we've made it to the field I'd been working in earlier today.

"We were over there," I say, pointing to the large expanse of grass just past the small pasture we stand beside.

Jasper makes that same low noise he made earlier — the throaty, warm one that hits me straight in the gut — and the horse slows to a stop beside me. Jasper dismounts, never releasing her reins as he maneuvers them over her long face. He leads Ginger along and I just stand and watch for a good, full second before thinking to join them.

I tug my phone out of my pocket and see I've got five missed calls, mostly from various members of my group. They're probably just wondering where you are, I tell myself, and decide to forgo checking the messages. Instead, I open the flashlight on my phone and turn it to the ground, scanning the grass from the second we step out into it.

"What exactly are we lookin' for?" Jasper asks me.

"It's a memory card."

Jasper stops dead in his tracks.

"Wait — what?"

"You know, like, for cameras? It's a little black square thingy —"

"I know what a damn memory card is, Alice," Jasper groans out. "You lost your memory card out here? You've literally got me lookin' for a needle in a haystack … in the dark?"

I don't know if I go white as a ghost or red as a lobster, but my reaction elicits a hysterical kind of laugh from Jasper.

"You're a crazy woman," he snarks.

"I didn't know it was going to get this dark that fast!" I retort, biting my lip to smother a nervous smile. "I think you're forgetting that I live in New York City. You go outside at any hour and it's bright as day."

"That sounds miserable," Jasper says.

"Well, it'd certainly be helpful right about now."

Jasper huffs at me. "I don't think we're gonna be back in time for dinner," he says. His words are far from angry.

"You can go back if you want to!" I playfully argue. "I never asked you to come."

Jasper just waves me off and takes off walking further into the deep grass. Ginger patiently walks along beside him. "You're gonna need more than one light," he retorts, right before he pulls a phone out of his jeans.

I can't help the laugh that bubbles out from my lips when I see Jasper interacting with modern technology.

"What are you laughin' at?" He asks, turning to face me.

You can't tell him the stupid thought that just ran through your head. No way!

"Nothing," I say, rather unconvincingly.

Jasper turns on his phone's flashlight and flashes it directly on me, like I'm being interrogated. "What is it?" He pushes.

Sheepishly — very sheepishly — I duck my head against the light and say: " it's just… you have a phone."

Jasper's face twists in confusion. His brows pull together. His lips purse. He glances down to the device in his hand and then back at me, like he's expecting a further explanation.

So I say, "it kind of ruins the whole — y'know — genuine cowboy experience."

Jasper's expression softens into absolute delight.

"Oh really?" He asks me, and I can hear him suppressing a laugh. "Were you expectin' to travel back in time during this 'genuine cowboy experience' of yours? I don't want to shock you, Miss Alice, but we've all moved into the modern age. We've all got phones. Even have e-mail accounts" Jasper jokes. "Hell — once I was lucky enough to see an iPad up close!"

I stare at the ground, wishing it'd swallow me whole. I'm blushing so hard I think I might burst.

"Yeah, yeah," I lamely say. "Get your jokes in while you can, 'cause if I don't find this memory card, James is going to kill me."

"… Oh, I really don't think he will."

"Then you don't know James," I unconsciously shoot back.

"Darlin', I know way more than I need to."

What does that mean?

I quicken my pace, eventually making up the distance between us. I eye Jasper quizzically, hoping it's enough to prompt him further. The man doesn't say anything. He doesn't look my way. Jasper just keeps walking, flashing his light across the ground.

"Where exactly do you think this thing is?" He asks. "Are we checkin' every inch of this field, or have you got some basic idea of where we're goin'?"

His question deserves an answer, but I feel I need one first. "Wait — what does that mean?" I tentatively ask.

Jasper stalls and so does Ginger. "What does what mean?"

"That you know 'way more than you need to' about James."

Jasper takes a beat before answering. "Oh," he says, giving a quick shake of his head. "Nothin', nothin'. I just mean — he respects you. You're his boss, right? Not a good idea to kill the woman signing your paycheque."

I accept Jasper's half-assed answer, but something about it doesn't sit right. It's certainly not convincing enough to erase the words from my mind. I know way more than I need to, he said. What does that mean? More than I need to.

"So where are we goin'?" Jasper asks again.

I abandon my curiosity — for now — and direct Jasper towards a crooked tree sitting lonesome in the field.

Together, we search around the tree from its deep rooted, wide trunk outwards, inch by inch.

The memory card is nowhere to be found and the world has gone so completely dark that I've given up trying to guess how long we've been outside. I've started to judge the passage of time through mosquito bites — I think we're at a few dozen now. That's what? An hour? Two? It feels like an eternity.

Jasper is being incredibly patient, searching the dense grass so furiously that his brows might be permanently furrowed above his eyes, but I've started to hemorrhage hope.

I'm on my knees, checking around the base of the tree again, when a stone digs into my kneecap. I groan out and shift back, moving rather unceremoniously to sit on my backside.

I lose my cool.

"This is pointless!" I huff, tossing my phone into the grass.

Jasper doesn't so much as flinch at my outburst, only turning his eyes to meet me. "I'm sure we'll find it, Alice! Maybe not right now, but it will show up," Jasper tries, his drawl as slow and soothing as ever.

"We've been at it for hours!" I argue.

Jasper chuckles. He glances over at Ginger, her head bowed as she grazes the grass a few feet away, and then turns to face me.

"Then we might as well keep goin' until we make somethin' of it, right? Can't give up now."

"But you think this whole search is pointless, don't you?"

It's a fair question.

Jasper pulls the hat hear wears off his head just long enough to run a hand through his gorgeous curls. He sets the hat back in place, sighs out heavy, and starts walking in my direction.

"No," he says. "I don't." Jasper plops down at my side. He places both his hands behind himself and leans his weight back, head upturned to watch the sky. "— But I still think this would've been a Hell of a lot easier to do by the light of day," he reluctantly admits.

"Yeah," I cautiously agree. "In retrospect, you might be right about that one." After a moment, I chuckle, adding: "and you thought I'd figured out how to listen to you."

He laughs again. "I have a feelin' that's not in your nature."

"You might be right about that," I weakly explain. "I'm too impatient."

"Determined," Jasper says. "You're determined."

The world falls quiet again. Jasper and I sit totally content in the darkness, letting the grass embrace our weight and the bugs nip at our skin.

I take the opportunity to look around our surroundings. The space looks so different in the dark — so empty. Without the light of the sun, or the bright blue of the sky, or the hustle and bustle of my models, this little space feels like it could exist within a black hole; like the dark curtain of trees in the distance is one edge of my universe, the endless night sky another.

With nothing else to look at, I find myself copying Jasper's position, turning my eyes up to the blanket of stars above us. They look like little dots of light splattered carelessly across the sky.

We just sit like that for awhile, watching the stars watch us.

Part of me just wants to stay here — to let the ground swallow me whole. It feels right; like we were meant to disappear into the ground right under this old tree.

"Do you ever wonder what this place looked like before any of us were here?" I ask, never shifting all the while.

"All the time," Jasper softly answers.

I turn my head to glance in his direction, only to see that Jasper is watching me.

Even when I catch him, Jasper just keeps watching. He doesn't blink, or move, or smile — he just stares. I fidget under his intense gaze, something churning deep in my stomach. I'm not uncomfortable — no — I love the way he watches me. It sets every inch of my skin on fire.

"I'm sure it was peaceful," I delicately add, hoping that my voice might break the tension between us.

"Still is," Jasper replies.

I try again: "I bet this tree was here first, before anything else."

Jasper tears his eyes off of me, and I'm finally able to breathe again. Freed from his trance, Jasper glances at the tree we're sitting under. His face lifts into a smile.

"It's been around since before I was born," he tells me, "I'm sure of it. That tree's been here long as I can remember. Like most things 'round these parts — it just shows up 'n stays put."

"What if we stayed put out here?" I ask, letting my hands graze over the grass around us. "How long do you think it'd take before anyone found us?"

Jasper goes quiet, giving my question the weighty consideration it deserves. "Why — you plannin' on givin' up?" Jasper finally asks, chuckling.

"Considering it," I sigh. "It's been a long day."

He breathes out a sympathetic sigh.

"Well it's not over yet. We've still got a heck of a lot of searchin' to do, right?"

I don't want to leave our spot here, but Jasper is already standing. He reaches a well-worked hand towards me and I take it, letting his long fingers curl around my own. Heat rises up my arm, flooding my chest every second his touch lingers. When I'm up and sturdy on my feet, I drop his hand fast.

Now I'm standing only inches away from Jasper. My eyes are level with his chest and up close, he smells like the dirt we've been digging through, and sunscreen, and mint — not toothpaste, but the leaves. I want to lurch forward and press my nose into his shirt, just so I can inhale that scent deep into my lungs. I'm sure that mint has never smelled so good.

I don't know many things about myself, but I know one thing for sure — I'm falling hard and fast for a man I barely know.

Jasper clears his throat and I snap my head up, straining to meet his gaze.

"You said y'all went down by the river, too?" Jasper gently asks.

"Uh, yeah," I say, breathless. "Just down that way a little."

I take a full step back, eyes darting down to the ground. I find my phone where I'd tossed it on the ground and I move to pick it up. The yellowed glow of my flashlight disturbs the dreamy, peaceful nighttime around us.

"Then it's got to be there," Jasper decides.

He leaves my side to collect Ginger, and the three of us continue onwards. There's a little forest at the far end of the field, and Jasper — after pointlessly trying to debate it with me — decides to leave Ginger there rather than bring her through the woods to the rocky river's edge.

We cross through the barrier of trees on the far end of the field by ourselves, and delve in to a cacophony of new sounds. I can hear the river rushing like television static in the distance, the croaking of toads, the cooing of birds — the lifeblood running through this little thicket of forest impossible to ignore.

Something sounds above my head and I instinctively shift closer to Jasper's side, a surprised little yelp escaping my lips. I instinctually reach to grab his sleeve, but stop myself before making contact.

"That's just an owl," Jasper says, voice teasing. "Quite likely the least harmless thing you'll find out here."

"Great," I mutter. "Awesome."

We keep walking for a minute and the seemingly harmless path I'd come down only hours before has turned menacing. Fear slowly creeps through my system and I find myself asking, "are there really like, coyotes out here?"

"Sure. Coyotes, snakes, porcupines, mountain lions …"

"Mountain lions!?" I quicken my pace, desperate to get through to the other side without becoming someone's dinner. I throw a quick glance over my shoulder, unable to see the field we just came from. "Do you think Ginger's okay out there?"

Jasper hurries to match my pace and eventually walks right by me, stopping a few feet ahead so he can push a low-hanging tree branch up over our heads.

"She's fine," he insists, smiling. "I'd be more concerned about us right about now. We sure would make a tasty late night snack for a mountain lion," he teases, lowering his head so he can whisper to me as I pass under his arm.

My heart quickens in my chest, pounding so hard I can feel the reverberations in my ears.

Something touches my side and I scream, lurching forward so fast I almost lose balance. Things scurry around us, frightened by the noise. I turn on my heel to investigate and find Jasper laughing, grinning ear to ear. His hand is still raised from where he poked me in the side. The ass.

I throw a pout in his direction and keep marching on, praying to God that I don't step on a mouse or a toad or a freakin' snake in the process.

This is harder than navigating Saks on Black Friday, Ithink, but at least I'm really making use of my new boots.

We make it out of the woods unscathed, now right by the river. I glance left and right, trying to decipher exactly where I'd been earlier in the day, but everything looks different here come nighttime.

It takes a little meandering, but I'm eventually able to source out a tree by a line of boulders I recognize. I dart in that direction and Jasper eagerly follows suit.

"It must be by those rocks!" I call out, remembering a moment in which I practically emptied out the tote bag there late this evening.

We both look around the rocks, until I see the tiniest glint of metal in the sand a few feet away.

My excitement bursts through in the form of an excited yelp. I hurry past Jasper and all but charge the ground, grabbing the measly little memory card in my dirty hands.

"Oh my God!" I screech, holding it up for Jasper to see. "I found it! I've got it!" I bring the little plastic card down to my lips and give it a big, dramatic kiss. I'm so happy I could cry!

I scramble up to my feet and jump towards Jasper, who's wearing that thousand-watt grin again. It takes all I have not to lurch forward and throw my arms around him. I'm forced to hold my excitement in, fidgeting weirdly on the spot.

"I knew you'd find it," he exclaims.

"You called it a needle in a haystack!" I argue, chuckling.

"Yeah, well, I like bettin' on the impossible," Jasper retorts, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

It settles me, but barely. The weight of Jasper's hand on my skin awakens something else completely within me, something that doesn't foster stillness.

"Well, I'm lucky that you do," I say, smile growing. Then — without really thinking — I blurt out, "now all I need is a stiff drink and I can go to bed happy."

Jasper laughs, quickly replying: "I think that can be arranged."

We start walking back towards the thicket of woods, both exponentially more relaxed now that our mission has been accomplished.

"I'm sure they've got a pretty expansive selection of liquor out at the mess hall already," I guess, chuckling at the thought.

"Maybe," Jasper says, a playful glint to his voice, " but I might have a better idea."

I glance in his direction, an eyebrow quirked in question. Jasper turns to meet my stare, his mouth pulling into a smirk.

"What — don't you trust me?" He asks.

I don't know what Jasper's thinking — I have no idea what plans are formulating beneath all that curly hair — but in that moment, still on a high from salvaging thousands of images, I do. I trust Jasper implicitly.

Blush floods my face again. I turn away from Jasper, keeping my eyes firmly on the trees we're approaching. "Only with the rest of my night," I quip.

Jasper seems more than pleased.

AN: Guys I've gotten so many nice comments / reviews over the last week! thanks to everyone who reached out, it's you guys who make me pump out 5,400 word chapters like it's the easiest shit I've ever done (which it's not. it's really not). Stay tuned for some country fun my dudes