t takes about ten minutes for me to even semi-relax. I'm not used to my feet not being firmly on the ground, and my lack of control makes me nervous as hell, but seeing her smile makes it worth it.

Mostly.

"Nice and steady," she says as we trot along the path.

The air feels hot as the sun peeks through a gap in the mountains. In some ways, I can see why she enjoys this so much. I've never been one to embrace the L.A hiking trails, but even I can't deny how peaceful it is up here. For someone like Alyssa, the freedom a place like this offers must be bliss.

"Don't hold the reins so tight," she says.

Sweat pools on the back of my neck as I loosen my grip. I'm a fast learner – you have to be in a sport like boxing – but something tells me this is one hobby I'm not going to get the hang of.

Kino, on the other hand, would love this. He's always been the nature type, and when Dad and I would be working on the heavy bag in the yard, he'd be busy examining bugs or making forts out of leaves. The kids at school would bully him for it, so one day I pulled them aside after school and gave them a talking to. They never bothered him after that.

Chest tight, I push away the thought of him and focus on the view in a bid to ease my guilt. A comfortable silence stretches on as we amble down the path. My horse clearly has a vision problem because he walks right next to the trees lining the path and scratches up my arms in the process. I wince as Alyssa looks back and laughs; at least one of us is enjoying this.

She leans her head back, face basked in sunlight, and says, "You know, this is just what I needed. So, thank you. More brownie points coming your way. You'll have to start thinking about what you want to trade them for."

I grin and straighten up on my horse. Now we're talking. "Oh, I've thought about it."

Her eyes flash seductively. "And?"

I steer my horse closer, positioning my face near hers. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to collect," I say, and then I push forward like I'm the next Paul Newman and not some kid who doesn't know the first thing about horses.

The rest of the afternoon is like something from a cheesy romcom, and god help me, I like it. We spend the ride talking about anything and everything, from our favorite desserts to our favorite celebrities. Every now and then, I remember that I'm sitting on top of a deathtrap, and she reaches out and takes my hand before talking me through it.

"You don't strike me as the type to like Sci-fi," I say after her confession.

"Well, then, you'd be wrong," she says.

"Like aliens and shit?"

"More like advanced societies," she explains. "I like dystopians too. There's something about watching the world fall apart that makes you appreciate real life a little more, you know?"

"So what I'm hearing is you thrive on chaos. Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey," she says, swatting my arm, "chaos can be a good thing. Forces you to appreciate peace."

"Maybe," I say, but I'm not convinced. I've had enough chaos to last me a lifetime – I don't need anymore.

"Let me guess," she says, running a hand through her horse's mane, "you like car movies as well as violence."

I give her a playful look. "You trying to say I'm predictable?"

She laughs and rides off into the distance without answering. I follow after her down a path that loops around, sending us back in the direction of the ranch. Truth be told, I prefer it out here, just Alyssa and me, as opposed to some fancy dinner party with her family. If it were up to me, we'd stay here forever.

Able to read my mind, she says, "I'm kind of nervous about tonight."

I almost say me too, but considering the reason, she invited me in the first place was for moral support, it wouldn't instil much confidence. Instead, I say, "Why?"

She shrugs. "It's the first time you'll be around my family. My friends."

I raise an eyebrow. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

"It's not because of you that I'm nervous," she says. "It's just–" she pauses like she's trying to find the words before sighing. "I feel like I know who to be when I'm with you, and I know who to be when I'm with them, but I don't know who to be when you're all in the same room, you know?"

I nod, because I get it. Growing up, I learnt pretty quickly that the way you survive is by having different versions of yourself. Sometimes, if you're lucky, those versions align, but if not you're forced into the role of an actor, forever stuck playing a part.

"How about this," I say. "I'll be me tonight and you be you. Deal?"

She looks over now, eyes warm as she regards me. "Deal."

By the time we get back to the ranch, it's late afternoon. Pam and Ham invite us in for tea, but we tell them we need to get back and hotfoot it m to my car in a bid to escape. Before I can open the door, Alyssa slips in front of me and snakes her arms around my waist.

Smiling, she lifts up her sunglasses and props them on her head. "You know, I think you'd make a good cowboy," she says teasingly.

"Yeah?" I pull her closer by her waist and grin.

"Yeah," she says, and her gaze turns serious. "I had a lot of fun today. More fun than I've had in a long time. No one has ever done something so nice for me."

The sincerity in her tone takes me back. She says it like I surprised her with a trip to Prague or something and not an afternoon of horse riding. "It's nothing," I say.

"It's not nothing," she says, and she wraps her arms around my neck before leaning up to kiss me.

For about a second, my brain is overcome by the taste of her mouth, which tastes like strawberry bubble gum. Then I'm pulling her closer, parting her lips at the same time my hands grab her waist. It's still relatively secluded here in the parking lot, but even if it weren't, she doesn't seem to care.

Hell, neither do I.

I pick her up and sit her on the back of my truck, where she wraps her thighs around me. Her lips find my ear, nibbling and sucking and driving me insane. I'm not the type for public affection, but I couldn't walk away if I tried.

Her hands slip under my t-shirt and gently run along my chest. I tense against her, able to feel her touch in places I shouldn't. I bite my lip and succumb to temptation before her wandering hand knocks some sense into me. I grab her wrist, locking it in place before she gets us arrested for public indecency.

"Someone calls the cops and it'll be me who gets thrown in jail," I warn her.

She sighs and kisses the tip of my nose before leaning back. I run a hand along my face in a bid to gain some composure. When I think I've done it, I look over at Alyssa, who's watching me innocently from her position on the truck, her legs parted slightly.

Shit.

"You're dangerous," I say, "you know that?" She flashes a smile that has the power to unravel me. I walk around to the driver's seat without looking back. "Get in the car, Alyssa."

When she slides into the passenger seat, I glance over and wish that I hadn't. Her lips are full and slightly red, her eyes seductive. I must have the self-control of a saint because I turn on the ignition and hit the road.

The ride back to her house is excruciating. I keep looking over, first at her eyes, then her lips, imagining the places they could reach. She'll tell me to watch the road, all the while knowing what she's doing to me, and then the whole thing starts again.

Through clenched teeth, I say, "If you don't sit still, we're not going to make it to dinner."

"We have to," she says, "my parents would kill me if I didn't turn up."

"Then keep your hands to yourself."

"Yes sir."

I sigh in frustration and turn up Tupac. It works, for a while, and we rap along to his songs all the way back to her house. It's this that surprises me the most – the ease with which we flit back and forth between two horny kids and actual friends. It's how I know that this – whatever this is – isn't just typical physical shit.

It's real.

When I finally pull up, Alyssa unbuckles her seatbelt and leans over to kiss me, a quick, innocent peck that gets me going again. "I'll see you tonight," she says, squeezing my hand, and then she's leaving my truck and heading back to her house while I clench the steering wheel.

That girl is going to be the death of me.

❤️