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As he conditions my hair, the rodeo, Nash’s smile, it flashes through my mind again because I’m an overthinker who can’t shut her brain off at the appropriate times—like post-shower fuck.

That so easily could’ve been me. My brain speeds off with my worries, spiraling into the abyss. I’m going to end up dead by the age of thirty with a tombstone that reads: Took the bull by the horns... and lost.

Life’s brutal out there, but then I think about how I can’t give up this dream. I can never give up because without the rodeo, I have nothing. I’ve poured too much of my life into this career to give up—missed birthday parties, failed friendships, forgotten Christmas presents, declined wedding invitations.

Boone told me I’m an obsessed workaholic who doesn’t care about anyone but herself, and maybe he’s right. I’ve sacrificed too much to quit, and if I give up now, all that hard work will be pointless.

I’m in too deep now.

Wyatt seems to sense my thoughts have veered off because he murmurs softly, “Let’s get you to bed. Like your dad said, a good night’s sleep can solve most problems.”

He wraps me tight in a towel and lifts me effortlessly into his arms. I’ve never had anyone handle me so gently, and it’s something I didn’t know I needed in a man. Everyone treats my body like it’s indestructible, but Wyatt’s holding me like I’ve got caution tape wrapped around me, not a towel.

I thought I needed a man who could handle me, but maybe what I really needed was a man to hold me.

As he carries me to my room, a tight lump forms in my chest. We both get dressed, but as he’s about to lower me onto my bed, I look up at him and whisper, “I don't want to be alone. Can I sleep with you and Vi tonight?”

Softness flickers in his eyes, and without a word, he carries me to his room, holding me a little tighter this time. Luna follows behind us because she can’t sleep without me, and I need my little shadow too.

He kicks open the door with his foot, stepping over the sea of toys. His room is a disaster. Piles of laundry are stacked on the floor. So many clothes. The laundry must never end, and I make a mental note to throw some of his stuff in with mine.

Vienna’s stuffed animals are everywhere, but she’s snoozing in her crib. She hasn’t had the chance to love me yet, but I’m falling for the way she squeals Dee-dee when I walk in the door.

My eyes start burning at the thought of Vi. This barn is going to feel so much emptier once they’re gone. If something like this happened again, I’d have nothing to come home to but a bottle of tequila. And coming home to Vi’s laughter is a trillion times better.

Wyatt gently tucks me into his bed, the cool sheets enveloping me as he slips in beside me. I curl against his warm side with Luna nestled comfortably at our tangled feet.

“How’re you feeling?” he whispers, stroking my hair in the moonlight.

I’m feeling all kinds of things I can’t sort through, and I’m really wishing I could have another shot of tequila just to dull my thoughts, but my dad’s right, that never works. Because it’s Wyatt asking, and this is the most peaceful I’ve felt since the rodeo, all my fears pour from my lips.

“I was so scared,” I admit into the darkness. “I’m starting to think it’s just better if no one loves me. That way, fewer people get hurt if something happens.”

“Don’t say that,” he demands in a hot voice, tightening his arms around me. “Don’t even think that. Loving someone as brave as you could only ever be considered a privilege.”

My eyes start to sting again. “There’s a reason all those bull riders sleep around. It’s just easier not to get attached in case something happens. It’s why I’ve never believed in happy endings.”

He wraps me up in his strong arms, holding me close. “Then let me believe in them for you.”

And I do the last thing I ever thought I’d do tonight—I fall asleep with a smile.

35

GET THE COFFEE

DAKOTA

The following day, I wake up sandwiched between two stifling bodies. One of those bodies feels like cuddling a statue, and the other is, I think, a giant stuffed animal.

I glance over my shoulder to find Luna-Tuna, the ever-so-devious pup, currently sprawled out, laying (or logging, as I call it) against my back like this is her dog bed.

The furry diva.

Goodness, do I love this dog and her attachment issues.

The bedroom feels like a cocoon, the dim morning light puddling on the floor and birds greeting the world with chirps on the windowsill. My body’s sore, but I can’t remember the last time I woke up so well-rested.

That ends fast when memories of last night hit me.