Page 33 of Reckless Hearts

His arm swings high into the air, earning more points for style as nearly two tons of muscle twists and bucks beneath him.

My brows pinch together when he leans back a millisecond too late and just like that, he’s tossed off as easily as throwing a baseball.

Colt rips off his helmet, cussing under his breath, and disappears through the gate.

My cheeks puff out on a sigh.

It ended exactly how I thought it would. Time left on the clock, and his ass in the dirt.

Colt doesn’t know, but I haven’t missed a single one of his rides since we started.

I’ve tried not to watch, tried to stay with the other riders.

But without fail, my gut twists, and my heart races until I can see him.

A gnawing sensation that if I’m not there, no one’s looking out for him.

It’s ridiculous. There’s an entire team out here taking care of us.

But I can’t stay away, and I’ve given up trying.

Which is why I can read him like a book.

Just by the way he sat in the chute, I knew he was in for a tough go of it.

It’s his own fault, coming in drunk off his ass the night before an event, stumbling around the dark room loud enough to wake the dead.

Not that I’d been asleep.

How could I be, knowing any second, Colt fucking Lawson was going to swagger through the door and lie beside me?

Every creak from outside had my ears perking up, wondering if it was him.

Goddamn hours of that shit until the sound of sloppy steps approached, followed by the beep of our door.

The sound of his heavy breathing filled the air, blocking out everything else.

It was visceral, having him that close, but I kept my eyes shut, muscles locked tight, the hair on the back of my neck lifting under the weight of his stare.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I snapped. Pushed his buttons, made him give in.

Maybe if I had time to think it through, I would’ve wondered why I cared so much about him sleeping on the sofa.

It’s not like it’s my problem if he’s sore. If anything, it’s better for me.

But every second he stalled burrowed deeper under my skin, until I found myself taunting him, until he climbed in beside me.

I wasn’t ready for the heat of his body radiating across the few inches that separated us.

Definitely wasn’t ready for the way it pulled at something low and hungry inside me.

With the last grains of sanity, I turned away from him, faking sleep.

He didn’t need to know my thoughts were racing a million miles a minute and I still don’t know what they mean.

He settled quickly while I stared a hole in the wall, just trying to sort out where the fuck everything went wrong.

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