Page 156 of Reckless Hearts

His fingers grip my jaw, locking me in place. “I said, you better fucking win this.”

I huff out a laugh. Nothing about that makes sense. “You know that means you’ll lose, right?”

That wicked grin is back. The one he reserves just for Callie and me. The one that has my dick hardening just by looking at it.

“That’s right. Fucking perfect,” he says, still not making any sense. He doesn’t speak again until the fog clears from my mind.

“Ride like hell for me, Princess.” Maverick’s voice starts as a caress then morphs into that low command he uses while he fucks us. “Show me how good you are.”

I twitch as shivers run down my spine all the way to my toes.

“Okay.” I nod, stunned dumb.

He pushes off me, gaze focused on where his thumb traces the edge of my mouth. “Go. Win this fucking thing. Then get your ass back to me. I’ve got plans for you.”

My limbs tremble as I make my way to the chute, but it has nothing to do with nerves. That was the best goddamn pep talk I’ve ever heard.

I close my eyes as they get ready to open the gate and hear his voice again.

Ride like hell for me.

The gate slams open, and everything goes quiet. No noise. No fear. Just instinct. My grip holds, legs locked, body moving with every violent twist beneath me. I ride like I’ve got something to prove, like I’ve got something to lose. Eight seconds of muscle and grit and the sharp, electric certainty that I was made for this.

They shout my name over the speakers. The words “perfect ride” and “best score of the decade” ripple through the air as people rush toward me, clapping me on the back.

Photographers, staff, other riders, all trying to grab a piece of my attention, but all I want, all I’ve wanted this whole damn time, is to find them.

My vision tunnels in on Maverick and Callie in the stands. Both of them are beaming, eyes bright, smiles wide. The next thing I know, I’m running, jumping until I catch the railing and pull myself toward them. Maverick hooks an arm under my goodone, steadying me, as Callie wraps around me. Her mouth is open slightly, and I don’t hesitate to take it.

There are whistles, hoots, and hollers, but I don’t let go of her mouth, even as Maverick guides me over the rail so I can stand between them. His chest presses into my back, pulling us into a hug that lasts long enough to spark questions I’m more than fine answering.

Hell, give me a mic and I’ll scream it at the top of my lungs. The stress, the pressure, that overwhelming feeling of conflict I felt before my ride drains from me, and I just lean into them, soaking in this moment like it’ll last a lifetime.

The thing lighting me up inside has nothing to do with that gold buckle andeverythingto do with them. The world starts to clear as I realize who I’ve actually been chasing all along.

Chapter 52

Callie

The crowd is gone,but the dust still hangs in the air, catching in the rafters like it doesn’t know the show’s over.

They’ve turned off the bright lights, leaving only a few at the corners that cast the arena in a dim glow where I stand at the center. The last time I’d been on the inside like this was Colt’s accident. And the time before that was before my dad’s death.

These buildings represent competition, adrenaline, and living high on life, but for me, for a long time now, all of my pain has been wrapped around this dirt.

I bend over and scoop some up with my hand, letting the grains slip through my fingers.

How can something I’ve let hold so much power over me, something that’s haunted me… be so simple?

It’s the same dirt you see in the parking lot, just a little finer, a little deeper. Nothing special. Nothing sacred. Nothing to fear.

Yet I’ve been hiding from this dirt, and everything it represents, for over eight years.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose, filling my lungs as I tip my head back, face tilted toward the sky.

This isn’t the arena where my dad died, but it was one just like it.

The image of him is still too clear. One I haven’t been able to shake.

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