Page 15 of Reckless Hearts

“Me neither. Some parts are a blur.” Not a lie. Not entirely the truth either.

She gestures toward the room. “So I slept here?”

“We didn’t know which one was yours. Figured this was safest.” I shrug, biting my lip, because it felt damn good seeing her curled up in my bed… even if I didn’t sleep in it.

“You could’ve shared with me,” she says casually. “You must be sore after riding last night.”

“Nah, the pullout was fine. Nothing I’m not used to.” Which is a lie and a half. There’s no way I could’ve handled waking up next to her. Her warm body tucked against mine, my morning wood digging into her hip. Just thinking about it has me shifting, trying to hide the reaction she always pulls from me.

If she knew, would she hate me? Would she still look at me with those soft eyes?

“Still,” she murmurs. “I could’ve taken the couch. I’m the one who got drunk and passed out.”

And what a cute drunk she was.

“You calling me old? Saying I can’t handle a pullout?”

She scoffs. “We’re the same age.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one saying you’re old and sore.” I roll my neck, and it cracks loudly, undermining my point.

Her brow lifts like she’s saying,See?“I’m just saying—we used to share a bed all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

Not a big deal? Right. Maybe not for her. She’s not the one who is secretly obsessed with her childhood best friend.

I’ve spent too much time thinking about her over the years, missing the piece she took with her when she left. Now, she’s here again, smiling that sunshine smile and lighting up the dark hole she left behind. Anyone would be twisted after that, right?

Knowing she’s leaving in a few months has the tender spot beneath my ribs aching at the thought, and my sternum hollows out. It’s one of those things that’s hard to judge: is it better to have had a taste or to have stayed hungry?

Nah… definitely better to take whatever I can, no matter what happens to me.

It felt good to be with my old friend. One of the only people who’s ever really understood me.

“You don’t know. I might snore,” I say.

Her lips twitch, curling in the corner. “You say that like you didn’t always snore.”

“Hey, at least I don’t drool,” I fire back.

Her mouth drops open in faux offense, almost spilling her coffee. “That was one time. And I had a sinus infection.”

“Uh-huh.Sure. All those other times, too?” I nudge.

She’s just too damn cute. Too easy to tease. With everyone else, I put on a persona. With Callie, I don’t have to try. She pulls it out of me. Always has.

“What time are we heading out?” Callie asks, casual as anything, like this has always been the plan.

“Hm?” I blink, still not used to the idea that she’s actually staying. That this is real.

She strolls to the railing, dumps her coffee into the bushes, then turns toward me, so close her arm brushes mine. “Next event’s what, eight hours? We hitting the road soon?”

“You in a hurry?” Maverick’s voice cuts in behind us, and I flinch. Didn’t even hear him walk up.

She shrugs, unfazed. “Just trying to figure out if I have time to wash my hair before sitting in a truck all day. Smells like beer.”

“You’ve got time,” I say quickly before Mav can scare her off with whatever’s brewing in his head.

Maverick studies her. “You sure you’re up for this?”

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