“What the hell am I doing?” I mumbled to myself. I lay flat on the motel bed, staring at the room fan as its blades rotated around and around, and rubbed my face with the palms of my hands, listening to the scratchiness of my stubble. My cheeks felt warm, dangerously so, but who could blame me?

All I could think about was that kiss. That kiss with Dan.

Danny.

“What the actual fuck,” I grumbled, as I rolled over to lie on my side. I’d had no idea that he was gay. Growing up, there had never been any indication, no signs at all –- not that there were supposed to be, but they sure would have been nice.

“What are you freaking out about now?” demanded Thomas from the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth as he leaned against the door frame, one hand casually in his pocket.

“Nothing,” I lied.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at me, suspicious, but decided not to press the issue.

I sighed, listening to my breath escape, and didn’t inhale until my lungs began to ache for air. My heart was beating too fast. I felt so stupid.

Why had I kissed him back? Why had he kissed me in the first place? This all felt so very, very wrong.

Here I was, the big, mean property developer, about to boot this man off his own land for profitable gains. Why not make things even more complicated and awful and kiss him? A good kiss was bound to make this whole situation a lot more fun.

You go, girl.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about Danny, about how gentle he was, how softly he’d held my hand. I couldn’t stop thinking about his cool eyes and his low, rumbling voice. God, his voice.

When he spoke, his words vibrated in my chest. They sank into the deepest crevices of my mind and sprouted there. They made the tips of my fingers and toes curl in delight.

But where was I going with this train of thought? How could I have let this happen? Was this what it would have felt like as a teenager? For years, I had been so preoccupied with learning how to ignore the pain that I’d forgotten to feel at all.

And I’d just left. Like an awkward little idiot, I’d kissed him and then just left.

A terrible wave of dread washed over me. I wondered what Danny thought about all this. Yes, he’d kissed me first, but I'd kissed him back.

Still, I supposed none of that mattered anymore. What I needed to worry about was the fact that I had no idea what I was supposed to do next.

I couldn’t shake the terrible weight that had settled in the pit of my stomach. There was something there between us, something undeniable. But the whole thing felt wrong.

I was here to acquire his land, his home, his business. It just didn’t sit right with me. It all seemed so unfair.

Why couldn’t it have been anybody else? Why did it have to be Danny? Literally any other rancher in the area would have done, but no. I had to suck faces with the owner of Breakaway Ranch, who just so happened to be an old childhood friend.

I mentally high-fived myself for making things so needlessly complicated.

My silent downward spiral was interrupted by the sharp ringtone of my cell phone. I checked the caller ID before I answered, my eyes widening in a combination of surprise and pure horror.

It was Danny. He was calling me. Why was he calling me? Oh, dear God, did I really need to answer?

I let the phone ring several times, blaring into the quiet of the motel room. I let it go just long enough to pique Thomas’ curiosity. He stuck his head out from behind the doorway, toothbrush still in his mouth, and frowned at me, curious.

“You going to answer that?” he asked, words slightly muffled by the bristles of the brush.

“Uh, er, yeah,” I mumbled. My heart was racing. My fingers were tingly.

I picked the phone up, my voice catching in my throat, and swallowed hard, praying that my voice didn’t betray me. “Hello?”

“Hi,” greeted Danny in a low tone. “It’s me.”

“Hi,” I repeated stupidly. “Er, how can I help you?”

A beat.

“I was…” he hesitated. “I was wondering if you…”

“Yes?” I urged. It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling awkward.

“There’s a restaurant in town. Joe’s. You feel like grabbing dinner?” Danny asked. And then, very quickly, he added, “To discuss business, and all that.”

His words left my heart aching with whiplash. The truth of the matter was, I did really want to see him. I wanted to see him really badly.

It would be nice to catch up with him for real. I wanted so terribly to drown in the blue of his eyes, relax in the delicious rumble of his voice.

But I didn’t much feel like talking about business. No way in hell. I didn’t need the guilt trip.

“Sure,” I said hurriedly. “Sounds nice. When were you thinking?”

“How about tomorrow? Say around seven?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay, well…” Danny’s voice drifted off again. “Okay. Yeah. See you.”

“See you,” I confirmed and hung up quickly after.

I heard Thomas turn off the tap before he shuffled back into the room. He raised an eyebrow at me. “What was that all about?” he asked, his tone a little cocky.

“That was Danny.”

“Danny?”

“Dan. Daniel. You know–-”

“Yes, I know who you’re talking about, you moron. I just didn’t realize we were using nicknames now. You going to start calling me Tommy anytime soon?”

I rolled my eyes and smirked. “You only let Sarah call you that.”

“I know,” he snorted. “I hate it.”

Thomas made his way over to his double bed and sat down on the edge. He reached for the television remote and flicked the TV on, the pop and snap of the screen’s static eventually fading away as the channel’s images became clearer and clearer.

“What did he want to talk to you about?” he asked, after he finally found the local sports channel. “He ask you on a date or something?”

“I … yeah. We have a date tomorrow.”

Thomas turned his head to look me in the eye. He laughed, a mischievous grin on his face. “What?” I demanded, frowning.

“Nothing,” he said dismissively, shaking his head. “Have fun. Wear a condom.”

“Get your head out of your ass,” I snorted. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, but judging by his tone, he wasn’t convinced. “I’ll make myself scarce if you need the room.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I just want to see my homeboy get some action.”

“I’m your homeboy now?”

“Always were, bud.” Thomas winked at me, still smirking. “Get some.”

I groaned, rolling over to press my face firmly into the pillow.