“My mom?” I finished his sentence.
He met my gaze and nodded once. “Miss Rodeo Montana wasn’t on the list, but apparently—according to Hawkins—there was a royalty change, and she was available.”
I shrugged as best I could under the covers. “It happens.”
Wyatt shifted his body towards me, one single eyebrow raised as he folded his arms across his chest.
“I have four—maybe five more runs. I don’t know how long she’s going to be here, or if she even knows I’m here, but I know I won’t get the support from her. I won’t get the congratulations on the rides or the good lucks beforehand. I’m just worried that I’ll knock over the barrels, or fall off and hurt myself again, or not make it to the championship event, or—”
“Stop.” Wyatt cut me off, and I did as he asked, biting on my bottom lip. “Can I ask…” He swallowed. “Why do you need her support or congratulations?”
A shaky breath left my lungs. “She’s my mom. I may not want to see her, but it still would be nice to get that praise. Did you know…” I rolled my eyes at myself. “No, you don’t, because I haven’t told you how far this goes. When I signed up for my first rodeo, I told her I entered the pageant. She and Dad came and sat in the stands, and she looked so thrilled. But then, after, when I went up to her after winning the event, she had her arms folded across her chest, her glare heavier than I’d ever seen it. Dad gave me all the praise, saying he was so proud of me and that he couldn’t believe I did that all on my own. My mother said,‘This isn’t what I wanted for you,’ and then turned and walked away. She has never supported me since.”
“And your dad?”
“He loves my mom; he does what she says. He’s come to a few events, but never on his own. It’s always the ones where mom is with her queen. He says he watches my races when he can, and he’ll send me texts, but”—I scooted closer to him—“I just want her to be proud, you know? And I want the fact she isn’t and never will be to not get to me and ruin my chances at doing what I love.”
He studied me, his blue eyes searching my face. Reaching up, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and then wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him. My head rested perfectly against his body, and I fit, despite the blankets that separated us. I molded into him, turning to face him as I wrapped my arm around his waist.
“I know this isn’t the thing to say right now, and I’m no therapist, and yes…my upbringing was very different, but—” he took a deep breath. I felt his chest rise and fall, his heartbeat picking up. “Kyla’s talked openly about her relationship with her mother to Rhett, and when I met her mom, I saw the distance between them. They’re working on it. But Kyla…she knows she fits here with us, with Rhett. Sometimes, family chooses you, and those people are the ones you need to focus on. I can promise you—” He shifted slightly, and I raised my chin to look at him. “You fit with us. You are more loved with my family—with me—than you’ll ever be with anyone else.”
I gave him a soft smile and settled myself back down on his chest. “I know,” I whispered.
“One more episode?” Wyatt sighed, his fingers tapping on my shoulder.
I left his warmth, grabbed my laptop, and pressed play, settling myself right back to where I was next to him, and beforeI knew it, I was sound asleep right there, using Wyatt Hartwell as a pillow.
Twenty-Six
Wyatt
IsaddledCharming,pickingthe perfect breast collar and bridle to match Quinn’s turquoise blouse. She had to add a few sponsor patches to her shirts, but the color still popped. She had everyone’s attention. She definitely had mine.
She slept next to me all night, her warmth calming my body in every way. It was a new experience for me, justsleepingnext to someone, not wanting to disturb them in the slightest. Once the episode was over, I closed her laptop with my foot and, using my legs, managed to get the small blanket at the end of the bedover my body, all without waking her. I kissed the top of her head, pretending she was mine even if it was only for a minute, and then fell asleep. We woke up at the same time, in the same position, and I quickly left for my room. We acted normal during breakfast, the banter the same as always, with a little flirting thrown in, but nothing unusual—except the fact that she had used me as a pillow in the back of my mind.
My pocket vibrated once I finished with Charming, thankfully pulling me out of the Quinn spiral I was finding myself in.Just friends. Remember that, Hartwell. Just friends.
Hawkins
We’re not too old for a group chat, are we?
Sam
Fuck no. We’re barely pushing thirty.
Me
Speak for yourself. I’m the oldest here.
Hawkins
Tonight’s the night, man, we’re going out.
Sam
You in?
Me
