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He let out a soft chuckle before reaching for me without hesitation. Before I could react, he pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I froze.

Everything in me told me to step back, to put space between us before I let this moment sink in too deep. But then I felt the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, and just like that, every worry I’d been carrying—the stress, the exhaustion, the confusion—all melted away.

I shouldn’t have let this happen.

But for a few stolen seconds, I did.

“You’re terrible at lying,” he murmured, his chin lightly grazing the top of my head.

I swallowed, resisting the urge to close my eyes and sink further into him. “And you’re good at calling me out.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and dammit, why did that make my knees feel weak?

Before I could embarrass myself any further, the line started moving, and we were ushered toward the entrance. A security guard checked our IDs, and just like that, we were inside.

I blinked, taking in my surroundings.

A mechanical bull sat in the center of the room, surrounded by a padded floor and a crowd of people cheering as a guy barely clung to the saddle before getting thrown off with a dramatic flop. The whole place smelled like beer, leather, and cheap cologne, and country music blared from the speakers.

I turned to Wells, brow raised. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “Oh, Sunshine, just you wait.”

Before I could stop him, he made a beeline for the sign-up sheet.

I folded my arms, watching as he scribbled his name down like this was the best idea he’d had all night.

When he turned back, there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hope you’re ready to be impressed.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “By what? Watching you get thrown off in one second?”

“You doubt me?”

“Absolutely.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “You’ll see.”

And, oh, I did.

A few minutes later, Wells climbed onto the bull like he was born for it. The second it started moving, he settled into the rhythm with ease, gripping the handle with one hand while the other stayed raised in the air.

I expected him to last a few seconds at most, but he didn’t just stay on—he rode that damn thing like it was second nature. Muscles flexing, hat tilted just right, a cocky smirk on his lips like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

And the worst part?

He was right.

Because I was absolutely, one hundred percent hot and bothered.

I crossed my arms, pressing my lips together as I watched him ride like some damn rodeo champion. It wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t have been this attractive. But my brain had officially shut down, and all I could focus on was the way his body moved with the bull, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the pure confidence rolling off him like heat.

I swallowed hard.

Oh, I was in trouble.

Big trouble.