Page 116 of Reckless Hearts

“I always needed you.”

The silence stretches heavy between us, thick with all the things we never said when it might have made a difference.

And now… now, it’s bleeding out of both of us, slow and messy and unavoidable.

“You’re my best friend… you’re more than that,” I say fiercely, squeezing his hand. “I would’ve been lucky to have you by my side all these years. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best damn rider out there. Your instincts are unreal. You move with the bull like you belong up there. Like you’re reading its mind.”

Colt exhales a jagged, shaky breath.

“And I never wanted to beat you,” I admit. “I always wanted to be next to you. Sharing every moment of it. Because what’s the fucking point if you aren’t there with me?”

“Maverick.”

His lip wobbles, the first crack of hope breaking through all that hurt.

“If you want my spot, you can have it,” I say, leaning closer, my voice steady now. “I’ll give it up. I’ll throw rides. I’ll step back, and you can have the goddamn buckle.”

“No,” Colt breathes, fierce, even in his brokenness. “I don’t want you to give it to me. I want to earn it.”

Pride stirs hot and raw in my chest, the kind that threatens to undo me all over again.

Because that’s Colt. That’s the boy who used to race me across pastures, laughing like the whole damn world was ours.

That’s the man he became while I wasn’t looking.

A weight lifts in my chest like sunlight cutting through the goddamn clouds.

I give him a small, crooked smile, wiping my face and then his with the edge of my sleeve.

“Then I’ll help you. You already have everything you need.”

Colt rolls his eyes, but there’s a glint behind them now.

A grin spreads, crooked and cocky, all too familiar, like he knows he’s just won something.

“What are you so smug about?” I mutter, narrowing my eyes.

“Would you really give up the championship for me?” he asks, half-joking, half-serious.

I don’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

Colt’s throat bobs. A flush crawls up his neck, spreading over his jaw, painting his cheeks in pink.

He shifts awkwardly, mumbling under his breath, “Never mind.”

Humming, I lean back, giving us both some space to breathe.

Colt watches me with something new in his eyes, careful, tentative… hopeful.

I don’t push. I don’t tease.

Because I mean it.

Every damn word.

He slumps deeper into the bed, exhausted but faintly smiling.

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