Page 95 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“Trust me, I’ve got this,” Lucia yelled back at one particularly irate driver.

We finally pulled up to the departure drop-off area. I nearly kissed the ground after prying myself from the backseat.

My knees wobbled a bit when I stood up, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d been crammed in like cargo or if my brain had been rattled on those turns. Probably both.

“What’s the matter, Kannon?” Lucia asked, grinning. “Can’t handle a little Miami heat?”

“Heat, my ass,” I muttered, stretching out my legs. “I’m just happy to be alive.”

We said our goodbyes and made our way into the airport. It was chaos. I didn’t know what was going on, but the lines for security were stretched out good and long. I was less than impressed.

“Kannon, can we talk about something before we get home?” Merritt asked as we stood in line.

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Sure,” I said cautiously. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, fiddling with the strap of her purse. “It’s about your riding.”

My jaw tightened instinctively. This wasn’t the first time she’d brought it up, and I already knew where it was going. She was not the first person who had an opinion about my riding either. “What about it?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she said as if she was actually scared to tell me what was on her mind.

“Yeah?”

“It scares me to think about you getting hurt. You’re not flying solo anymore, Kannon. You’ve got me now, and it would give me so much peace of mind if you didn’t ride so hard. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what I would do if I got a phone call that you were hurt or worse.”

There it was. The thing I’d been dreading ever since we started this whole thing between us. She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand what riding meant to me. How it wasn’t just a hobby or a way to kill time. It was my escape, my sanity, my lifeline when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

I crossed my arms, already feeling my defenses rise. “I’m not choosing between you and riding, Merritt.”

Her eyes widened, and she blinked like I’d just slapped her. “That isn’t what I was asking.”

“It sure sounds like it is,” I shot back.

She held up her hands, trying to backtrack. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Kannon. I’m just asking you to be careful. That’s all. The way you feel about Lucia’s driving is how I worry about the way you ride.”

“I’ve never put you in danger.”

“Not me—you. You took that tumble the other day and you got really lucky.”

“That was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing and you know it.” She reached down and grabbed my hand. The irritated knuckles and scabbed areas on my healing hands were apparent. “You were torn up. I don’t want to think about what a serious accident would do to you. Like my mind literally goes blank with fear.”

I knew she was saying it because she was concerned, but all I heard was how she wanted to change me, to clip my wings, and keep me grounded. She’d been gone ten years and now she thought she could tell me how to live?

“You don’t get it,” I said, shaking my head. “Riding isn’t just something I do, Merritt. It’s part of who I am. Why would you ask me to change that?”

“I’m not asking you to change,” she insisted, her voice rising slightly. “I’m asking you to think about me. About us. If something happened to you⁠—”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, and guilt twisted in my gut, but I couldn’t stop. We moved forward in the security line, the tension crackling between us like a live wire.

“We’ve been together a whole five minutes and you’re already trying to change me,” I said.

“It’s not about changing you. It’s about wanting you around, wanting us to have a future. Can’t you see that?”

I rubbed my face, feeling frustration and exhaustion washing over me. The moving line brought us closer to the front, closer to the security scanners where everything got exposed, much like how I felt in that moment.