Page 67 of Micah

For the first time in years, I wonder if I ever really knew my brother at all.

Chapter 8-Micah

The run to Chase Baron's place should've taken my mind off her.

Should've being the keyword.

Didn't is the reality, though.

Alex chatters most of the drive back to Jersey Iron Ranch about some podcast he's listening to while we haul the empty cryogenic containers home after dropping off another half-million dollars' worth of frozen genetics.

It’s bull jizz for the win, ladies, and gents.

It's funny when you think about it.

People hear cowboy and they imagine horses, hats, and sunsets.

Reality?

Million-dollar breeding contracts.

Cryogenic tanks.

Temperature logs.

Insurance paperwork.

Enough technology to make NASA proud.

Not that I'm complaining.

I like the work.

Like the precision.

Everything has a place.

Everything follows a system.

Unlike people.

People are a messy bunch, aren’t they?

Complicated things. Almost impossible to understand.

Especially women.

Especially one particular redheaded bartender who's managed to occupy every spare corner of my brain.

Benji and Esme skipped this run.

Apparently Esme's producers wanted them filming somewhere for one of her new episodes.

The woman's internet famous.

Millions of followers.

Still blows my mind.