It isn’t.
Because now that I’ve seen him out there, now that I’ve felt what that does to me…
I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend this part of his life doesn’t affect us.
Not anymore.
A ripple of movement near the chutes pulls my attention before I can stop it.
Jace just stepped away from the gate, still dusted in dirt, rolling his shoulder like he’s working the last of the ride out of his body. He looks… good. Too good for something that felt that dangerous a minute ago.
And then she steps in.
Blonde, long legs, boots and cutoffs, confidence that says she’s done this before. She slides up to him like it’s nothing, one hand brushing his arm as she leans in close, smiling up at him like she already knows what she’s going to get.
A buckle bunny.
Of course.
My jaw tightens before I can stop it.
Hadley doesn’t notice. She’s still watching the arena, waiting for the next rider, completely unaware of anything happening behind the scenes.
I wish I could be that focused.
Jace doesn’t lean into it.
That’s the first thing I register.
He doesn’t step closer, doesn’t touch her back, doesn’t give her anything more than a few words I can’t hear from here. His body stays angled away just enough that it looks like he’s already halfway out of the conversation.
That should be enough.
It should settle whatever just flared up in my chest.
It doesn’t.
Because the fact that she walked up to him like that, like it’s normal, like it’s expected… It says something about who he’s been with here.
About the life he’s been living when I wasn’t around.
And I don’t get to pretend that doesn’t matter.
I fold my arms, more to keep myself still than anything else, my gaze locked on them even when I tell myself to look away.
He says something short. She laughs, tossing her hair back like she’s not used to being brushed off. For a second, she tries again, stepping a little closer, hand sliding along his forearm this time.
He steps back.
Clear.
Definite.
Whatever he says next lands differently, because her smile slips just a fraction before she covers it, nods like she doesn’t care, and finally moves off toward another group of riders.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Relief hits first.
