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They moved toward the river and, once they hit flat land, Bennet pressed his legs into his mare’s flanks and spurred her on “Come on, Doll Let’s show off”

Grass ripped behind him as they rode

The stranger caught on and encouraged his stallion into a canter Adrenalin thuh Bennet as he allowed theDoll forith exuberant deterallop and a flash of black appeared in Bennet’s peripheral vision as the stranger followed suit Sraceful, confident Yes, look at you ride

Overcorinned into the wind and fixed his sights on the riverbank two paddocks ahead, lungs keeping pace with the pounding of hooves

Thethe silent yet cheeky interchange

Sheep bleated in the near distance against the drone of a tractor Ahead, the last hurdle before the flower-carpeted riverbank

The fence crouched at the paddock’s edge, posts bent after decades of bracing against the wind Weeds choked its rotting legs; they were ed in the middle like a smirk

Bennet usually rode around it, but that would take too long His thighs tightened around his steed

He’d grown up riding horses—showjuht, slih

He hadn’t ju he’d escaped for university

He could do it He could—

He pulled the reins and sat back in saddle, lurching to a ly panicked halt His breath puffed out hard, chest heaving A stunning display of performance anxiety

The stranger rode full throttle to the riverbank and turned triumphantly in his seat

A picture of fine forainst a haze of yellow dandelions, he scanned the paddock for Bennet, found hi

The kind of too long that ain

Bennet breathed in the char scent of the country—hide, manure, and upturned dirt—as he walked Doll around the front of the rust-red barn

Fro, fifteen-year-old Lyon quickly shoved his school bag aside and lounged nonchalantly, staring back at Bennet, affecting boredo blue eyes—so like his own—and wanted to reassure his brother he had absolutely no idea Lyon cared about school

Or that he hadn’t accidentally seen Lyon’s essay on what family means to him

I don’t care about Bennet He left for university when I was a toddler He never visited—not that mum or dad wanted him to—and he only called on er, foisted into my life because we share the sa care of ay as rainbows And we share a questionable penchant for long showers

Bennet sed back the tenderness and swung out of the saddle, riding boots hitting the ground with a squelch “Morning”

“You got beat,” Lyon said

“Would we call that beat? Not atrociously pummeled?”