Page 119 of Reckless Hearts

“Time frame?” Colt asks, too casually.

“Six months. You’d miss the rest of the season.”

The temperature in the room drops five degrees.

“No surgery,” Colt says flatly.

The doctor exhales, visibly unimpressed. “You’ll lose mobility. You’ll be in pain. It might rebreak.”

Colt doesn’t flinch. “Still ridin’.”

A quiet pressure builds in my chest. Not anger just that familiar ache that comes when I remember exactly what this life costs. The risk. The hurt. The fact that even now, he wouldn’t choose differently.

Maverick scrubs a hand down his face.

The doctor mutters “idiot riders” like a prayer and leaves, the chart snapping shut in his hands like a gavel on his way out.

I don’t blame him. I kind of want to shake Colt myself.

A knock sounds on the half-open door.

Luke’s shaggy head pops in, grinning. “Hope you’re not naked. I brought company.”

Maverick groans. Colt smirks. “No promises.”

Luke saunters in like he owns the place, taking in the room with an exaggerated whistle. “Damn, you’re lookin’ halfway human already, Lawson.”

Colt grins at him, and it hits me how different he looks. How different theybothlook. Nothing like they did when I first rolled up at the start of the season, all cold shoulders and old grudges.

This… this feels like breathing fresh air after years underwater.

They joke. They laugh.

Colt rolls his eyes when Luke flops dramatically into the visitor chair, making it squeak. Maverick pretends to throw a pillow at him. Luke, unfazed, reaches for the tray of untouched hospital food and pokes at it with a plastic fork.

He recoils instantly. “What evenisthat?”

Colt looks at the mush like it personally offended him. “Torture.”

Luke nods solemnly. “Can confirm. I’m getting sympathy hunger pains just being in the same room.”

Maverick, who’s been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, hasn’t said much, just watches. But the second Colt shifts a little too fast and flinches, his whole expression changes.

His arms drop. His jaw tightens. He clocks everything. Colt’s wince, the tension in his shoulders, the way his smile falters when he thinks no one’s looking.

Without a word, Maverick pushes off the wall and steps toward Luke.

“Out.”

Luke startles. “Wait, what? I just got here.”

“You’re gonna rile him up,” Maverick says, already steering him toward the door. There’s no heat in his voice, but there’s no budging either. His tone is all quiet command and simmering worry.

“I haven’t even insulted anyone yet!”

Maverick gives him a look that could peel paint.

Luke throws his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave. Want fries?”

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