The Tourist Trap

Chapter 12

It took five tries to get Jared into the saddle. As he kept repeating over and over, he had never ridden a horse before.

Between his total lack of experience and his drunken state, he had a hard time lifting his leg over Lola's back. Then the first time he did manage to swing all the way up, he slid over and fell off the other side. 

You could break something doing that, but Jared just laughed until he cried. 

Finally, I got him up and reasonably steady. With some serious contortion, I climbed up in front of him, fully aware that my butt was directly in his face while I tried to position myself. 

Burning with humiliation, I sat down and just hoped he was so drunk he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. 

"Hold on to me," I told him.

"Ooh. Now we're getting frisky," he joked.

I rolled my eyes and he hooked his arms around my waist.

This was not the best way to ride with a completely uncoordinated novice.

I had thought about riding behind him, Like I would do with a little kid who had no idea how to control a horse, but it was out of the question. I never would have been able to see past his bulky frame.

We were just going to have to roll the dice and hope he didn't loll of the back or slide off the side. 

"Jared, just try to stay awake, okay?" I said over my shoulder. "I don't want to lose you."

"Who knew you were such a flirt, Gracie?" Jared asked, blowing his breath directly up my nose.

Majorly sour.

"Yeah. That's me. I love a sloppy drunk," I told him. "Come on, Lola," I urged, clucking my tongue a couple of times. 

She grunted, irritated over the added weight, but started us on our way.

Suddenly the lazy clip-clopping of her hooves wasn't so soothing anymore. It was downright annoying. All it did was remind me of how slow we were moving and how far we had to travel.

"I like being this close to you," Jared said, slumping into my back.

My heart skipped a beat and my hands started to sweat, even though it was kind of a cool night. 

How could I possibly be so excited and so grossed out by the same person at the same time?

He smelled like the basement of the VFW and was more limp than a new balloon, but still, when he said that, my blood started to race. 

"That's nice," I said, wishing I could truthfully say the same.

"You hate me," he said, sounding like a little kid.

"No I don't," I protested.

"Yeah you do. You hate me 'cause I'm from the city", he said, lifting his chin. "And now you hate me because you think I'm a drunk. But I'm not normally like this. It was all my friends. They said we had to get drunk 'cause there was nothin else to do."

I sighed loudly. "And do you always do what your friends want to do?"

"Not always," he laughed. "But it seemed like a good idea at the time."

I smiled. I couldn't help it. There was something cute about the goofy way he was acting. 

So unlike the "I'm too cool" demeanor he usually had going. Plus, it was a lot better than the angry or hostile drunk some of the guys from my class displayed when they had their drink on.