Page 51 of Reckless Hearts

She looks between us, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, like that’s the only thing holding her together.

I want to pull her into my arms.

But she steps around us, leaving a gaping hole behind her.

I’m left standing there.

Maverick standing there.

Both of us.

Fuck.

Chapter 15

Maverick

The door swingsshut behind Callie with a hollow thud, leaving nothing but the wet slap of water against the hot tub walls and the ragged sound of our breathing. For a second, neither of us moves. The whole fucking world tilts, spinning off its axis. I stare at the door like maybe she’ll come back, like maybe this isn’t as bad as it feels, but the empty stretch of space between us says otherwise.

The memory of the heat of her mouth still lingers, the ghost of her touch clinging to my skin like static. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

Colt scrubs a hand down his face, water dripping from his jaw, his shoulders tight. “Great fucking job,” he mutters, voice sharp enough to cut.

My head snaps toward him, the burn rising in my chest before I can think better of it. “Me?” I bark out a humorless laugh, bitterness coating every syllable. “You’re the one she was straddling, man.”

His eyes flare. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Fuck you, Kane.”

“Right back at you, Lawson.”

The anger between us isn’t new. It simmers, thick and hot and tangled with everything we never said. Not just about tonight. About everything. Years of distance. Misunderstandings. Watching her walk away and neither of us stopping her.

Colt hauls himself out of the hot tub, water pouring off him in angry sheets. “What the hell do we do now? Because I’m not letting her go.”

My stomach twists, sick and hollow but there’s no hesitation. “Yeah. Same.”

He scoffs, grabs his shirt and my sandals, already storming off. “Still trying to leave me behind. Still only thinking about your goddamn self.”

That tears through me. I lunge after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to turn. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You got some great idea?”

He yanks free but doesn’t keep walking. His chest heaves, jaw clenched. “Yeah. I do.”

I brace for a fight.

Instead, his voice drops, rough but sure. “I always knew.”

I blink. “Knew what?”

“Back when we were kids,” he says. “Before everything went to shit. It was supposed to be the three of us.”

I stare at him, breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my heart.

He meets my eyes, steady now. “It’s both of us, or we lose her.”

My jaw ticks, but I don’t look away. He means it. Every damn word.

And God help me, I don’t hate it. Not the way I should.

My chest is heaving, brain spinning out but one truth cuts clean through the noise:

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