To All the Cowboys I’ve Loved Before. D. R. Graham

together, Della. If you’re going to live here, you need to get a grip. After several recovering breaths, I sit at my desk and open the textbook, then stare at the page for almost a minute before I realize the book is upside down. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t go to high school with boys. I’d still be there.

      My phone rings. It’s Stuart. “Hey, how’s it going at Everley’s?”

      “Good. You didn’t mention she’s a guy named Easton, though.”

      He chuckles. “Yeah, well, little miss virtuous wouldn’t have given it a shot if she knew that ahead of time. He’s great, though, right?”

      “Yeah. He’s great.” So great. I stare in a dreamy way out the window, but since it’s dark outside, all I see is my own reflection. Oh, man, is that a chunk of rice in my hair? How did that get there? “How are you, Stu?”

      “Good. The reason I’m calling is because your dad contacted me.”

      “Ugh. So Annoying. I can’t believe he bothered you. Obviously, the fact that I’ve been dodging his calls wasn’t a clear enough message that I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

      “He wants me to give him your address. I don’t really want to get mixed up in any family drama, so if you want him to have it, you should send it to him. If you don’t want him to have it, I’m going to tell him that.”

      “Why does he want it anyway?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe to forward your mail or show up at your doorstep and ground you.”

      “Great.” I lean my elbows on my desk and rub the tension out of my forehead. “Did you tell him my roommates are men?”

      “No. I didn’t tell him anything. But you’re probably going to have to call him.”

      “I’ll call him so he knows I’m okay. Don’t give him the address. I’ll set up a post box he can send stuff to.”

      “All right. How are you for money? Do you need anything?”

      “No. The student loan came in today. But thank you.”

      “Call your dad.”

      “Okay.” I end the call with Stuart and dial my mom. She never answers her mobile phone because she can never find it. It’s the perfect excuse for me not to talk to them. I leave a message to let them know I’m all settled in and promise to send the address. That should earn me another week or two before Dad hounds Stuart again. I also text my sister. We weren’t really that close growing up because she’s five years older than me. She’s already married and has a kid now. But she supported me when I decided to go against Dad’s wishes and pursue engineering instead of a teaching degree. She always caved into the pressure and did everything he expected her to do, which is why she completely understands how hard it was for me to come to Stanford. It’s the one and only rebellious thing I’ve ever done, which is why I really don’t want to mess up and give him reason to gloat. The last thing my sister said before I started off on the road trip was that she admired me. It still makes me feel warm and fuzzy when I think about it. She doesn’t respond to the text. She must be busy with the baby, so I pick up my textbook.

      Chapter two, paragraph one. Go.

      Easton is still downstairs. It sounds like he’s doing a load of laundry. Maybe I should plan to do all my studying at the library. That might work if I don’t spend the entire time thinking about what he might be doing back at the house. I wonder if studying with him would be more or less distracting since my mind wouldn’t have to drift very far. Who am I kidding? I’m just trying to come up with a justifiable excuse to ask him to study with me. Nice try.

      He’s coming upstairs. He went into his room.

      Chapter two, paragraph one.

      He crosses the hall to the bathroom, then the shower turns on.

      Chapter two, paragraph two.

      Shoot. Now I’m thinking about what he looks like with water cascading over his smooth, dark skin. Muscles. Long hair.

      Chapter two, paragraph three.

      Hmm. He made a sound, more like a groan, like he’s straining. Or like he hurt himself. Maybe he stubbed his toe. That’s something I would do. I did do it. This morning. But he must be okay. He just sighed in relief, like a huge stress was released. Ha. I wonder if he knows that when he stubs his toe it sounds like something sexy. Wait. I sit up straight, close my book, and stare at the wall that divides my room and their bathroom. Was it something sexy? Guys do that in the shower, right? No. Maybe. Oh my gosh. Did I just listen to Easton masturbating? Why am I whispering my thoughts? He can’t hear me. But I heard him. I invaded his privacy. I stand and pace around the room frantically. I feel weird, like I should tell him the walls aren’t exactly sound proof. But that would be even more awkward.

      Oh no, the bathroom door opened. He crosses the hall to his room. I wonder if he streaked across naked or wrapped a towel around his waist. Uh oh. He’s back in the hall. He’s going back downstairs. Sit down, Della. Stop acting like a freak. Chapter what? Paragraph what?

      He knocks on my door. “Hey, Della. Are you decent?”

      Um, of course. What kind of question is that? “Yes. Are you?”

      He laughs and opens my door. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, hair tied in a knot. I blink at him repeatedly, not sure how to act. “Sorry to interrupt your studies. I’m going to make tea if you want some?”

      “Sure.”

      “And I was also thinking since the rodeo this coming weekend is only an hour away, you might want to come out for the finals on Saturday and see what we do. It’s up to you. I just wanted to make sure you know you’re always welcome.”

      I nod. “Okay. Thank you. That sounds fun.”

      He smiles, then steps back into the hall.

      “I heard you stub your toe in the shower,” I blurt out. “Are you okay?”

      His expression gets stuck somewhere between about to laugh and complete bewilderment. Eventually he flashes an Everley super model wink and says, “I think I’m going to be all right.”

      After he leaves, I lean forward and bang my forehead against my desk, repeatedly. Stupid. Stupid. I’m going to die of embarrassment.

       Chapter 6

      Easton

      Della joins us on the driveway as we’re loading Chuck’s truck with our rodeo gear, getting ready to leave for the final day of competition. “Morning,” I say.

      “Morning.” Her nose wrinkles after looking down at her flip-flops, jeans, and white tank top. “I don’t know what to wear to a rodeo. Is this all right?”

      “That’s perfect,” BJ says. “You might want to bring a sweater for later, though. It can get cold at night.”

      “Night? How long does the event take? I thought it was eight seconds each.”

      He laughs. “There are a lot of events. Then we’ll go for dinner. And there’s a dance after. We’ll be out late.”

      She inhales with a hint of frustration as if she feels that would have been useful information to have known beforehand. “I’ll be right back.”

      I’ve got my new rigging stretched out in the garage, so I follow her inside to get it. Before I head back outside, I also grab a white cowboy hat that some girl BJ brought home once left here.

      Della emerges from the house wearing a light-blue cotton dress that makes all three of us stare. No more bed bug bites to distract from her flawless skin. She changed into leather sandals and she’s carrying a denim jacket. She also pulled her ponytail out,