Page 89 of Pretty Wild

But it wasn’t meant to be.

And I have to protect him from the chaos that comes with being Ryan Marcotte.

As much as I’d love to walk over and kiss his lips one last time, I can’t risk waking him up. So instead, I touch my fingers to my lips, close my eyes, and release the kiss into the air. In my mind, it floats softly from me to him, landing firmly on his lips in the lightest touch.

Buddy stirs, knowing something’s up. Instead of begging him to stay put—and knowing he won’t—I tap my leg once so he comes. We walk down the stairs together, and just before I’m too far down to see, I stop and give him one last look.

Those random tears from before?

They fall in earnest now.

I make sure my belongings are shoved inside my smaller suitcase before standing up and glancing around at the gorgeous cabin. A sad smile stretches across my lips. I don’t want to leave, but I need to. Any dream I started to entertain by staying here is nothing more than that.

A dream.

Buddy presses his nose against my neck. I fling my arms around his, slipping my fingers into his soft fur. “I’m going to miss you, boy,” I choke out, the emotion bubbling to the surface like a volcano. “Be good for your dad, you hear?”

He whimpers, as if feeling my heartache. He rests his jaw on my shoulder and sighs.

“I know, Buddy. I know.” Forcing myself to stand up, I say, “You take care of your dad, okay? Don’t let him be grumpy all the time.”

His tongue hangs out, but I can still see the sadness in his eyes.

I pull the note I wrote from my pocket and place it on the coffee table. Bending down, I press a kiss on the top of Buddy’s head. “I’ll miss you so much.”

Grabbing my suitcase, I roll it to the front door and gently release the lock. My phone and purse were left on the table beside the door for this very reason, so as soon as I have them in hand, I slip out the front door, flipping the lock on the handle as I go. The air holds a chill, one that would burn off at the first sight of the sun. But right now, in the middle of the night, it feels heavy and unsettling.

I manage to throw my suitcase into my SUV without dropping it, and just as I prepare to climb behind the wheel, I gaze back up at the cabin. Buddy is sitting in front of the door, his head still visible from where I stand. A single tear slides down my cheek, and the last thing I want to do is start crying before I even get out of the driveway.

I start the vehicle and throw it in gear. I risk a quick glance at the porch, almost expecting to see Marcus hurrying toward me, but there’s no one there. Marcus is still soundly sleeping upstairs, and it’s time for me to go. I changed my return flight earlier when Marcus was in the shower, and even though it doesn’t leave until 6:00 a.m. I need to go now.

Because if I don’t, I may never want to leave.

And once I’m gone, the people who flocked to Pine Village to find me will leave too. Everything will get back to normal. It’s that simple.

Yet, it feels so complicated and hurts my heart. I don’t want to leave, but I know it’s the right thing to do. For everyone.

Tears accompany me the entire ride to the airport.

“I was surprised to hear you had returned a week early,” my mom says in way of greeting as I step inside my childhood home. She places a motherly kiss on my cheek and shuts the door behind me.

“It wasn’t fair to the small town I was staying in. The paparazzi was hounding them to no end. Plus, Vaughn showed up,” I say, joining her in the kitchen on Friday morning.

“I saw the photos,” she says, pouring two mugs of coffee. As she moves to the refrigerator to get the creamer, she adds, “That man has absolutely no couth.”

“None,” I confirm after pouring a bit of my favorite coffee creamer into the mug she places in front of me and taking a sip.

“What time did you land yesterday?” she asks, watching me over the brim of her mug.

“Eight in the morning,” I confirm.

Memories of arriving at the airport yesterday morning filter through my mind. Unfortunately, my luck on remainingundetected ran out. I was spotted immediately and had to hide out in the airport security office until it was time to catch my flight. Even then, I was hounded, questions screamed at me, my photo taken a million times.

It was a confirmation that I had made the right decision to leave.

“I slept most of the morning yesterday and then went to the office to meet with Ariana.”

Mom nods. “The party is coming along nicely. Everything will be set for next Saturday night.”

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