Page 26 of One Reckless Moment

“You look like someone pissed in your Cheerios, brother,” Buck said, eyeing me up and down.

“Want to talk about it?” Tweety asked, a slight slur in his voice.

“Fuck off,” I barked, not in the mood for small talk.

Tweety’s phone buzzed and he read the message before looking back at me with a confused expression.

“Paige went home?”

“Yeah,” I said, picking at the label on my beer.

It hurt more than I wanted to admit that she texted Tweety instead of me that she got home safely. I should’ve followed her, grabbed her, and explained my intentions, but we would’ve just fought more. The bar was only about a ten-minute walk from the house so I knew she was safe.

I sat back, milking my beer with a frown on my face. I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Maybe one day I could get my own place and no longer be under the hold of the Brooks family, but I couldn’t ask Paige to wait for me. I couldn’t ask her to follow me around the country as a groupie, either. My life was one big unknown right now, and Paige needed stability.

My entire life, I screwed everything up. Every foster home I was in, I got kicked out. Every job I had, I got fired. The idea of letting another person down made me feel like I was sixteen again, getting screamed at to leave home and never come back.

That was the last time I had a stable place to sleep before I showed up at Brooks Valley Ranch. Now I had people who cared about me and I was at risk of betraying that over lust.

I drained my beer and ordered another as Tweety and Buck invited some girls over to our table. A perky brunette tried to sit in my lap, but I waved her off. There was no chance I was going to be able to fuck another woman tonight with Paige on my mind. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget this night ever happened.

We paid the tab and started the short walk back to the rental house.

12

FIREWORKS ARE STILL EXPLOSIVE

PAIGE

I heard the front door creak open and hushed voices as the guys piled inside. They were quiet, but I’d be shocked if they hadn’t brought girls home. It was a night of celebrating—I wasn’t new here. This was our last night in Colhead, and they’d been pretty tame in the time we’d been here.

When we first arrived, I assumed it would be a party every night where they brought endless women home from the bars. I was mentally preparing myself to see at least three pairs of tits when girls walked to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I was pleasantly surprised when most nights we all hung out in the living room, just the four of us. We drank, laughed, and played video games. I had videos of Tweety doing his victory dance when he was victorious in three rounds of Mario Kart and of Buck playing classic country songs on his guitar on the front porch at sunset. I even had videos of Cash at the rodeos, Cash playing pool at the bar, and Cash with his cute little frown when the boys woke him up with water guns—okay, there were a lot of videos of Cash.

Even during all of those good times, not one of them had brought a woman home. I wondered if it was because of my presence or if this was just who they really were. Back home, the ranch hands acted like womanizers, and I never gave it a second thought. It came with the lifestyle. Maybe they weren’t as bad as I once believed them to be.

Or maybe they are.

I pulled the covers up to my chin and replayed the night again in my head as a tear escaped down my cheek. I knew Cash wasn’t being serious when he put his hat on my head, but to hear him basically call me a charity case stung. He went through the whole act just so I couldn’t sleep with another man, and wanted to make it clear to his friends that being with me would be embarrassing.

Who does that?

I was so mad at myself for allowing Cash back behind my defenses—for allowing myself to live in that fantasy for a few hours, despite my better judgment. I remembered the boy who used to sit up with me late into the night as I analyzed his birth chart during my zodiac phase. I remembered the boy who held me in my childhood bedroom when I tried on my senior prom dress and cried because my date canceled at the last minute. I remembered the boy who told me he would make that boy bleed and insisted I was better off going alone than with someone who didn’t deserve my time. I remembered the boy who I could call any time just to chat about what was on my mind.

But I hadn’t known that boy in eight years—not since the day I took a risk and ruined it.

If I had kept my feelings to myself, none of this would have happened. I could have maintained our friendship and dealt with the longing crush for my entire life in silence.

I couldn’t wait to get on the plane tomorrow and have a whole week out of Cash’s grasp. He was intoxicating and all-consuming when we were this close. Without his watchful eye, I could drink what I wanted, kiss as many men as I wanted, and know that no one was looking over my shoulder to ruin the fun.

The distinct closing of doors caught my attention as the house fell silent. I figured the coast was clear, so I got up and padded out to the bathroom. I took one look at my puffy face in the mirror and made a promise to myself that I would no longer cry over Cash Leonard.

Once my face was washed and I was able to calm myself, I opened the door and flicked the light off. When I stepped into the hallway, a hand wrapped around my bicep and twisted me so my back was against the wall.

The familiar smell of smoky leather and bourbon filled my nose as he crowded my small frame. My breaths came in heavy as Cash lowered his mouth to my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.