I can’t.
Because leaving now would mean taking the easy way out, and I didn’t come this far for easy.
I draw in a slow breath and lift my chin, forcing myself to meet his eyes again.
Whatever happens next, I’m not backing away from it.
Not for me.
And definitely not for her.
Behind me, the truck sits like a reminder that I could still leave.
That I could take Hadley, drive back into town, and pretend this moment never happened.
But I don’t move.
Because deep down, I know that’s not an option anymore. Not after today, not after him, and not after the way Hadley is already looking at him. Like he might be something she’s been missing without even knowing it. That’s what scares me the most, because if he lets her down, I don’t know how I’m supposed to fix that. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for giving him the chance to.
My first instinct is to put distance between him and her, even if it’s only a step, even if it’s only in the way I angle my body so I’m standing just a little more in front of Hadley than beside her. Everything about this place feels open and unpredictable, and everything about him feels like the kind of risk I’ve spent five years avoiding.
Up close, it’s easier to see the details I missed from a distance.
The dust clinging to his jeans, the worn leather of his gloves, the way he carries himself like nothing out here is unfamiliar or out of his control. That confidence should be reassuring, but it isn’t, not when it’s paired with the kind of life I know he lives.
Rodeo.
The word sits heavy in my mind, bringing with it a rush of memories I haven’t let myself linger on in years. Late nights under bright arena lights, the sound of the crowd, the edge of danger that never quite fades, and the man standing in front of me now fits right back into that world without hesitation.
That’s the problem.
Men like him don’t slow down.
They don’t settle.
They chase the next ride, the next win, the next rush that keeps them from thinking too hard about what happens when it all stops.
I’ve seen it before, up close enough to know how it ends, and I made a promise to myself the day I found out I was pregnant. I wouldn’t build my daughter’s life on something that unstable.
My gaze flicks to Hadley again, taking in the way she’s watching him with open curiosity, completely untouched by the kind of caution that comes with experience. I feel that protective instinct rise fast and sharp in my chest.
She doesn’t know what this world is.
She doesn’t know what it can take.
And I don’t know if he does either.
I lift my chin slightly, forcing my focus back to him. To the man who’s still trying to process what I just told him, and I can see the shift happening in real time. The way his expression tightens, the way his attention keeps pulling back to her like he can’t quite stop it.
There’s something there.
Something that doesn’t fit the version of him I remember.
“You ride,” I say, my voice steady, even though it’s not really a question.
His gaze flicks back to me, sharp and focused now, like I’ve pulled him out of whatever’s running through his head. “Yeah.”
That single word confirms everything I already knew, and it settles in my chest like a warning I can’t ignore.
