Page 97 of Bronco

“I know, but I worry so much. This isn’t like Erica, Bronc. I don’t know what I’m gonna tell Olive if she’s not coming hom?—”

He puts a finger over my mouth. “She will be comin’ home, gotta have faith.”

My eyebrows raise. “I used to have faith.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “For a long time, but I lost that somewhere along the line.”

“I didn’t mean religious faith,” he corrects. “Just the belief that you’ll see her again.”

Him and his woo-woo. I plant a kiss on his cheek. “You really are a good man.”

“I tell myself that all the time.” He moves his head and his lips find mine. It’s soft, slow, and barely there.

My heart rate kicks up several notches. Before I know it, I’m clutching onto his shirt, pulling myself closer. I need contact like I need air. I needhimlike I need air. “You know how to distract me.” I’m practically panting when I pull back. “I’ll give you that.”

“Not bad for a fake boyfriend.”

I don’t know why, but hearing the fake part hits home. Do I really want him to fake all of this in public because I’m the one who’s running away? I know deep down in my heart that fuck buddies won’t work forever. What happens when someone comes along that turns his head, and then where will I end up when this is over?

Do you want more?I want to whisper it, and I’m so close, but I’m afraid of his answer. Afraid of what it means when we eventually have our first fight. I’m looking for excuses, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I’m wired this way.

“Best I’ve ever been with.”

As if he can see the hopelessness I feel, he cups my face and brings his forehead to mine. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

I blow out a breath. “So much, Bronc, but now isn’t the time or place. We probably need to talk.”

“Uh, oh, don’t tell me you’re sick of me already.”

I manage a half-smile. “I could never be sick of you, but I think my expectations going into this may be different from yours.”

He pulls back, his furrowed features meeting my gaze. “You lettin’ me down gently,Princess?”

“No. I just don’t want to get hurt.”

“I would never hurt you.” The words are out fast, and I know he means them with every fiber of my being. “You know that.”

I’m being ridiculous. I want to tell him. I want to hold him close and tell him he’s the man of my dreams and I’m falling for him, but the words won’t come out. “Later,” I whisper. “I’ve gotta get moving.” Reluctantly pulling away, I step behind the bar, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands.

“Babe, I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“I’m fine, Bronc, just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but then his phone dings. Sliding his cell out of his back pocket, he reads the text and frowns. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay.” I try to sound brighter. I’ve never been one to take pity on myself, and I don’t want to start now. “Have a good day. I’ll call you if I hear from Star.”

He nods, giving me a small smile. “Later.”

He takes off, and I press my hands against the bar, taking several deep breaths.

When did this happen?

When did I fall big time for my best friend?

Maybe it was that night he beat up those two assholes; I definitely looked at him in an entirely new light after that. Or the hundred times we’ve hung out and he’s done something super sweet, or was just there, doing what Bronco does best. A large part of my belief is that I don’t deserve him. That he’s too good for me, and I know I have to overcome that, but I don’t knowhow. This wasn’t supposed to be complicated, but I think we just went way past that.

Bronco

“Cut City Boys?” I mutter to myself as I dial Ryder back. He picks up on the first ring.

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