When it’s like this, when his mouth moves over me with that single-minded intensity, he gives me exactly what I asked for.
He makes me forget.
Forget the rules. Forget the risk. Forget the ache in my chest every time I remember those three words.
He makes me weightless, burning, broken in his hands—and for those moments, it feels like enough.
But still, every night I lie awake, his arms heavy around me, thinking about what I said. This is what love is supposed to feel like, right? So why can’t he say it back?
How can he keep fucking me, knowing how deeply I feel for him?
I shake the thought away, forcing myself to focus on the day ahead. I try to lead trail rides as much as I can—anything to stay busy, anything to keep my mind off him—but today’s group is small, and they specifically requested Wesley as their guide. It’s not an unusual request, so I didn’t think twice about it.
I’m finishing up my last stall when I overhear them getting ready, and I can’t fight the urge to go to him. I hastily brush hay off my shorts and check for any stray manure on my boots, telling myself I’m only saying hi and checking to see if he needs help.
But I know that’s a lie.
The truth is, I miss him. Even after a few hours apart, I ache for him.
I find him right away.
He’s laughing, not his usual low, sarcastic chuckle, but a wide, unguarded grin. The kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes my stomach flip.
Only this time, it’s not for me.
There’s a girl standing too close. Dark curly hair, smooth golden-brown skin, and a bright, flirty laugh that cuts straight through me.
Her hand rests on his arm. Not casual. Not friendly. Intimate. Her thumb pressing into his skin.
I freeze. My body flares hot all at once. Cheeks, chest, and fists ignite in a burning inferno. That awful, twisting blaze of jealousy creeps up my throat, tightening my muscles and making my palms tingle.
Except this time, I don’t get to be mad. Not really. Not after the fight we had when Wesley thoughtIwas flirting with someone else.
But this is different. They’retouching. Standing so close it hurts to look.
I must be staring because Emmett steps up beside me and bumps my shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks, eyes flicking over to where Wesley is, like he already knows.
“Oh yeah, I’m great.” My voice comes out flat.
“Don’t worry about her,” he says. “Wes made that mistake once, but he’s not dumb enough to do it again.”
I blink. “What?”
Emmett snorts. “Oh. You didn’t know?” He glances at me, then shrugs. “They’re the reason Dad made the no-fraternizing rule. Samira’s dad caught them having sex a few summers ago when they were teenagers, and hefreaked the fuck out. Wesley had to do shit work for an extra year or something to earn Dad’s respect again.”
My vision blurs, my heart thudding like I just ran a marathon. No, Ididn’tknow. He never told me. Nobody did.
After everything I’ve shared with him, this is what he chooses to keep hidden?
“Not sure why I’d care who Wesley is sleeping with,” I say, shrugging. “But you’re right. He would be an idiot to make that mistake twice.”
Idon’tgotodinner. I can’t.
I’ve been lying in bed for hours, wrapped in my favorite quilt, staring at the ceiling. The walls feel too quiet, too heavy.
There’s a soft knock on my door. Not just any knock—our knock. Two quick taps, a pause, then a thump.
