Page 6 of Reckless Hearts

Of course they don’t.

Colt’s expression is a wall of indifference, but his hands are fists at his sides. Maverick just watches me with that unreadable intensity that always used to scare the hell out of other kids and make me laugh.

I take a step back and cross my arms, forcing them to look at me instead of each other.

“I need one of you to please start explaining,” I say, lost in confusion and needing to understand.

They flinch—both of them—like they’ve just been caught breaking a window instead of shattering a ten-year friendship.

Still, silence.

It presses in on us like a weight. I can barely breathe through it.

God, I knew coming back would stir up memories. But this? This iscarnage.

I can’t help but wonder. Is this my fault?

If I hadn’t left… would they still be like this? Could I have fixed whatever it is that came between them?

Back then, I packed what little was left of me and buried it under textbooks and dorm rooms and years of silence. I convinced myself it was better that way. Cleaner. Safer.

Telling myself that at least they had each other. That even if I left, even if I missed them so much it hurt, they would be okay. That they’d still bethem.

But standing here now, watching the tension vibrate between them, I know that was a lie.

They’re not fine.

And they don’t have each other anymore.

My stomach twists, guilt blooming like a bruise across my ribs.

The only thing keeping me grounded is knowing it’s not too late.

My time here is limited, but I’m going to spend every damn minute of this bull riding season making sure they sort their shit out. That they find their way back to each other.

I can’t stay, not when I know what staying would do to me.

“You two used to be glued together. Now you’re acting like you don’t even recognize each other.”

Our conversation’s cut off when several riders crash into the locker room, breaking the tension between us. The old wooden door slams shut, causing the fluorescent lights to flicker.

The sudden movement jars me, reminding me of the reasons I came back in the first place.

I’ve done a lot of work to come back here. Therapy. Time. Distance.

This season is my last window. I just graduated. I’ve got a job offer waiting in the fall, real life breathing down my neck.

But before I can move on, I needed to come back. To see them. To know they are fine without me. To face the part of myself I left behind when I ran.

I’ve missed them more than I can put into words.

I have just long enough to say goodbye to who we used to be. To lay it all to rest before I step into whatever comes next.

Because when it’s over. When I leave again. These moments are all I’ll have.

“Hello, darlin’,” a man drawls as he saunters over, the cocky tilt of his mouth all too familiar. I vaguely recognize him from watching events on TV. He’s older, a little weathered around the edges, but he’s still wearing the same smug grin that seems stamped onto every bull rider’s face. “You’re not supposed to be in here. Not that I’m complaining.”

I open my mouth to reply, but Maverick cuts in sharply, his voice hard as steel. “Watch it.”

---