Page 88 of Reckless Hearts

“Wouldn’t make a difference,” I say quietly.

That gets his attention. “Wouldn’t it? Those two seem to think something’s changed.”

I curl my fingers into the fabric of my dress, not exactly sure what to say. I’ve never lied to Maverick or Colt. Not once. I told them from the beginning that I was leaving after the season.

But I can see why they think something’s changed. Why they think maybe, just maybe, I might stay.

All they know is that I left because my dad died… that it broke me.

They don’t know that I left because ofthem.

Because I couldn’t watch them chase the same fate that took him.

In the city, I’ve gotten good at keeping my distance from all of this. The bull riding, rodeos, the risk, the glory. Once I’m back, I’ll rebuild that wall. Pretend I don’t know what they’re doing. Pretend I don’t still love them.

Bull riders don’t just love the ride. They love the high. The rush. The roar of the crowd. That’s not something you walk away from. Not for anyone.

And I love them too much to ask them to try.

That’s the reason I’m leaving. That’s why I have to.

Luke pulls off his hat and groans up at the sky. “Fuck. You’re going to break both their hearts, aren’t you?”

Not as badly as I’m going to break my own.

“They’ll be okay,” I say, eyes still on them. “Now they have each other.”

Luke looks doubtful. “I’m not so sure about that. But I’m not about to get into other people’s business.”

Grateful he lets it go, I take another sip, letting the cold drink burn its way down.

I’m the one who’s going to be alone.

So I have to believe they’ll be okay.

Because that’s what I’ll survive on, knowing they’re together, even when I’m gone.

Luke throws a wink over his shoulder as he heads for the motel.

“Better hurry up, Lawson. Pretty sure Kane’s stealing your stuff again.”

I shake my head, watching my boys disappear up the stairs to their room, already arguing.

Chapter 29

Maverick

The motel roomis a chaotic mess when we get back.

Boots kicked into corners, half-zipped duffels slumped against the wall, clean clothes tangled with dirty ones.

Colt’s digging through his bag for a clean shirt when he suddenly freezes.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks, voice suspicious.

I glance down.

Yeah, it’s definitely his.

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