So far, things between Travis and I have been going well. Really well. It's gotten to the point now where I'm almost past my suspicion that the other shoe is going to drop any minute. Not completely past it—the fear is still there in the back of my mind, whispering to me even as his naked body is resting beside mine. But it's quieter than it usually is, and for once, I don't feel like a relationship is spinning my life out of control.

Maybe it's because we keep a pretty firm line between work and play. Travis still shows up early on days when he isn't already at the ranch, and he works like a dog until everything's done. Then we switch out of work mode and into this fever state where we can't keep our hands off each other. We fumble toward the bathroom, turn on the shower, and kiss and fondle each other underneath the cleansing water.

There are times when we don't even make it out of the bathroom before one of us is bending the other over the counter. Sometimes it's him, sometimes it's me. We communicate wordlessly, figuring out what we want in that moment, and we just go with it.

And sure, we fool around during breaks. I think I've swallowed his cock more than I've actually swallowed anything with any nutritional value this week, but neither of us are complaining about that.

With as much as we go at it, I thought either one of two things would happen: First—and probably most reasonably—we'd get bored of each other. There's only so many times you can fuck a person before it becomes mechanical. Or so I thought. Apparently my imagination just isn't big enough to imagine something past the typical Grindr hookups.

The second always seemed more plausible to me, and that was the idea that we'd just fall into fucking and disregard everything else. We wouldn't talk anymore, we wouldn't joke, we wouldn't do anything that wasn't completely physical.

But neither of those things have happened. Travis and I could probably do the exact same thing, night after night, and I wouldn't get bored of it. He approaches every act with so much passion that I have no choice but to get caught up in it. We don't do the same thing, of course. Sometimes it's fast and frantic, and we take the quickest route to get each other off. Other times we explore for what seems like hours, just touching and kissing and moving slowly against one another.

And more important than that, it's not just sex. Travis likes being held at night, one of my arms braced across his collarbone, his hand resting over top of it. He likes it when I massage his scalp, and I love the back rubs he can give with his big, strong hands. We talk for hours about everything under the sun. How we grew up, what movies we like, how we hoped our lives would turn out. The only thing we don't talk about is the immediate future, and I'm glad for it.

Deep down, I know we can't really go on this way. Football is Travis' life, and I'm not leaving Glen Springs or my ranch. But that's a problem for another day, and right now I'm just enjoying the time we get to spend together.

Today's the last Saturday of the month, and Jake's bringing the kids by for a ride into the foothills. Travis is here already, helping me pack lunches and get the horses ready. There isn't any time for "breaks," romantic or otherwise, but we keep casting each other heated glances. He catches me looking at him as I brush down Gloria, and he just holds my gaze, his hand working a lightly oiled rag over one of the saddles. I feel my whole body flush, and his lips quirk into a grin. He knows he's put thoughts in my head that I'll have trouble getting out, even with Jake and his students around.

But what he says is so casual and so innocent that I almost laugh. "Are you taking Apollo out today?"

"I hadn't planned on it," I say, picking stray hairs out of the brush.

"Could be good for him." He swipes the rag over the horn and looks up at me. "He needs to be around the other horses more, right?"

"It'll be easier for him if he can't race," I admit. "Most people who adopt horses want one who's going to be good with others."

Travis frowns at this. We've both been working with Apollo, and I know he wants to believe he can race again. I want to believe it, too, but I have to plan for the second best option. I want Apollo to find his place, and if that's not going to be on a racetrack, I'd rather work toward other options sooner instead of later.

"It won't hurt to do it, though, right? Even if he does race again?"

I can tell he's looking for me to validate him, and I smile. "Being less of an anti-social basketcase probably won't hurt, no."

He laughs at that, and I take hold of Gloria's halter and lead her to the doors of the stable so she can graze in the small pasture surrounding it.

Apollo has done pretty well around the other horses, all things considered. He's peak racing stock, raised apart from other foals, likely taken from his mother at a young age so he could get used to being handled. Even after being broken and trained, the horses with the purest bloodlines—especially stallions—are usually kept in their own stables where they’re given individual care and tend to be treated like equine royalty. Stud horses especially. If they race, their whole life becomes focused on measured bursts of speed in a tightly-controlled environment.

It's no wonder so many of them aren't fit to just be pets when they come off the racing circuit.

There's a sadness in that for me. As much as Apollo was bred to race—bred to win—he's also never just experienced what it means to be a domestic horse. He's never had an owner shower him with affection and sneak him apples just because. He's never formed a close bond with that one person who understands what he needs before he even needs it. I want him to race again, because it's a part of him. But I also want him to have a good, fulfilling life after he retires, and that's ultimately what makes me decide to bring him with us.

Jake arrives on time with the kids, and I'm not all that surprised when Robbie and Curt instantly lose their minds over Travis.

"Shit, man. When Mr. Morrison said you were his brother, I didn't believe him. But you really are brothers, aren't you?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "How often have I lied to you, Curt?"

"Nobody would've blamed you for lying about this, Mr. M," Robbie says.

Travis just laughs. "If you're going to lie about being related to somebody, you should go a lot bigger than me."

"You're right," Jake says, and I can hear the affection in his voice. "Think people will believe me if I say Peyton Manning is my brother?"

Travis snorts. "Yeah, totally. I can see the resemblance," he says, making a gesture toward the bottom of his face that is completely lost on me.

The two of them tease each other the way brothers should, the kids mostly still starstruck by the whole thing. Only Julie seems completely uninterested, but she's busy feeding Otto what I think are animal crackers.

It's a nice scene, and one that makes me smile. A deep sort of contentment settles over me as we ready the tack. I fit Apollo with just a halter and saddle—to keep him used to the weight of it as he walks—and then give the call for everybody to mount up.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Jake asks, one eyebrow arched.

I stare at him blankly, trying to remember. Only one thought occurs to me. "Everyone has their lunches, right?" I ask Travis, since I put him in charge of that.

"Yep."

A smile flickers across Jake's features, though it seems uncertain. "You usually check all the tack before we leave."

"Oh." He's right. That's part of my routine, and has been since we started this. But for some reason I just… didn't think of it today, and it doesn't bother me that I haven't personally done it. "You checked, right?"

"Yeah," he says.

"Then we're good."

His brows lift, but he directs the kids to mount up. Travis is on Domino today, since Julie is only really comfortable with Gloria. With Jake and the others on their usual horses, I walk with Apollo, letting Jake blaze the trail, having the stallion keep pace beside him.

It's rained recently, so the path that cuts through the hills is a little muddy. My boots make a squelching sound, and the further into the foothills we get, the further behind I fall. To the point where I'm even making Apollo a little impatient as he tries to keep up with the other horses.

"You should ride him the rest of the way," Travis suggests, pulling up beside me.

"I don't want to push him too much," I say.

I can almost feel Jake watching this exchange, and I wonder what he's thinking.

"Wanna switch? You're about to sink into the mud," Travis says with a big grin that brings out the dimple on his right cheek.

I want to pull him down to me and kiss him, but I don't. Instead, I take what he's offering. Partly because it gives me a chance to touch him when I help him dismount, my hand lingering over-long on his thigh.

He takes up Apollo's lead, and I climb atop Domino, riding with the rest of the group. When Travis gets flanked on either side by two curious teenagers who ask a ton of questions about football, I find Jake hanging back to fall in step beside me.

"So…" he begins, glancing back at Travis. "Things are good?"

"Yeah," I say with a small shrug.

Jake looks at me with narrowed eyes and a raised brow and I let a smile slip. It's no use trying to play it down. Jake knows me too well.

"Yeah, they're good. Really good."

"How's it feel, letting him take charge?"

Is that what I've been doing? I haven't even thought about it, really, but I guess I've loosened my grip on some things. The decision to bring Apollo, to let Travis walk with him, even the fact that I forgot to check the tack earlier. I've let a lot go without realizing it, and it sends a shock of panic through me.

But once that panic's gone, I'm left feeling… all right. Maybe better than all right.

"Honestly? I thought it would be a lot harder than it is," I say.

Jake just smiles and reaches over to squeeze my arm. "I'm happy for you guys."

I never thought Jake would disapprove, but I'm glad it's not something he feels weird about. I put my hand over his and give it a quick squeeze in return.

"Trav says you guys are getting along better these days," I prompt.

He looks back at his brother briefly. "Yeah, we are. It's kind of a trip, living together like this. All my life Trav's been the perfect one, you know? Now I find out he doesn't even put the toilet paper on the right way. What kind of monster gets new sheets from the bottom?"

I let out a raucous laugh at that, and my horse's ears flatten briefly before he calms.

"Okay, yeah. I was going to ask if he did that at your place, too," I say.

"Are you seriously talking about the toilet paper?" I hear Travis call from down the line. "I told you I'd conform to your weirdly important bathroom etiquette."

Jake and I both laugh at that, and when we all stop to have lunch, there's a long and hilarious discussion about all the ways in which Travis is just a normal and sometimes obnoxious guy. That's before Jake turns on me and shares some of my less endearing habits from college.

Even the kids are laughing by the end of it, and it's one of the most relaxing afternoons I've ever had.

* * *

We take our time up there in the hills, keeping the kids longer than usual. By the time we get back to the ranch, the sun's starting to paint streaks of orange and pink across the sky.

Jake takes his students back to town, and Travis and I brush down the horses and let them graze for a while, not wanting to put them up right after the ride.

When we walk back to the house, all I can smell is horse, and I know I need a shower, bad. I'm hoping I can convince Travis to join me, but he doesn't seem all that inclined to wait that long.

The very second he shuts the door behind him, he's on me, the length of his body pressed to mine, my back hitting the wall. It's a common enough position for us, and he's definitely not going to get any resistance from me. Especially when the horse smell is mostly on our clothes, and his hands are already making quick work of mine.

He draws back from me, though, a wolfish grin on his face. "Did you really get busted for jacking it in the dorm shower?"

I wince a little in memory of the story Jake told to Travis and a bunch of teenagers—all of whom thought it was fucking hilarious.

"Yeah," I say, my fingers curling into his belt loops, "did you really clog Jake's drain with pubes?"

He makes a face, as well he should. He definitely wins the award for most embarrassing story. "Okay, manscaping isn't really the NFL's top priority, and things were getting super wild down there."

"How wild?" I ask with a smirk, squeezing him through his jeans.

He gasps, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a shiver coursing through me. "Pretty wild."

Travis goes to kiss me again, but the moment his lips cover mine, I hear his phone ring.

"Ignore it," I murmur against his lips, nipping at him.

He groans, but pulls away. "That's my agent's tone."

And just like that, my blood cools a little. I know it's crazy, but I actually feel jealous as he takes out his phone. Jealous and uncertain, because I know the man on the other end of the line is holding Travis' future in his hands.

Trav looks nervous, too, his hand going into his hair, pushing back the strands my fingers were combing through not too long ago.

"Hey," he says, followed by a long pause. "Yeah, I've been good." He glances at me and smiles. "Really good. No. I haven't looked at any news in a week or so."

That confession makes my heart do a ridiculous flip in my chest. I've helped him with that. Even if I've just distracted him from obsessing over it, I've still helped him, and I'm glad for it. He deserves this break from the public eye.

I watch Travis' expression as the man on the other end of the line continues. He goes from polite interest, to actual interest, and then to something I can only guess is an anxious mix of hope and dread. He holds his breath, and then his whole face just lights up right in front of me.

"They want to make an offer? An actual offer?"

I can see the happiness in his eyes. He looks like he's about to spring into the air with it. But all I can feel as I hear those words is a profound and cold sense of certainty, like a punch to the gut I should've braced for.

This is the beginning of the end for us. I know it.