Page 6 of Ride the Sky

Us.

Me and Fallon.

She’s constant the thorn in my side and the woman I can’t stop thinking about.

I twist my head, my gaze going to my unmade bed as a memory surfaces. The farewell campfire dinner. The sound of wind chimes outside while I fucked Fallon, hard and quick in my trailer. She unzipped those tight blue jeans and bent over. I was on fire with my cock buried in that tight pink pussy, my hand fisting that silky caramel-blonde hair. Afterward, we lay in bed and talked. Argued. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.

Fallon smokes her cigarette, puffs a white ring into the air. “One day, I’m gonna chase those wild horses. And never come back.”

I rub her thigh and frown, hating the idea of her gone.“Your sister would miss you.” Ignoring her dirty look, I pluck the smoke from her fingers and stamp it out. I fucking hate it when she smokes. A constant reminder of her reckless life. “I’d miss you.”

She shrugs, rolls into my arms. Her raspy voice is like smoke rolling over silk as she says, “Cowboys don’t miss anything. Least of all a woman.”

Wrong. She was so goddamn wrong.

“Fuck,” I rasp, tearing my eyes away from the bed.

Three years ago, I was holding her in bed, now I’m holding a bottle of cheap vodka and this fucking tin can.

I drop both on the counter, bury my face in my hands, and exhale. I need something stronger than alcohol to get her out of my mind. Not even her being MIA for nine months can do it.

Fallon and I—we had something real.

Even if she didn’t feel it.

Because all I did was fuck it up.

Fuckusup.

And before I could work up the nerve to tell her how I feel, she left.

All because of Aiden King.

I bow my head. My hands turn to fists. Even two years later, I want to rage.

That motherfucker could have killed her. And what did I do earlier that night? I walked out on her. Because I threw a fucking tantrum at her bull riding announcement.

And then she was attacked. Taken. Hurt.

I should have been there. I should have protected her. I will never fucking forgive myself.

Because I’m the one who pushed her into that bastard’s arms.

I fucked around with Sheena Wolfington. I played games, acting like I didn’t care about Fallon. I took it for granted that eventually we’d get together. But Fallon’s as stubborn as a mule, and I’m a goddamn idiot. I waited too long, and it came back to bite me in the ass.

The next year, she met Aiden. She got hurt. And she pulled away from everyone.

Including me.

Then, after months and months of watching her in pain, she was gone.

Truth is, I’m pissed. Her leaving fucked me up bad.

Dakota got a note, and I didn’t. It fucking stings. I still have third-degree burns from the memory of her disappearing without a word.

But why would she leave me one? It’s crystal fucking clear she hates my guts.

I’ve tried to forget. Tried to move on. Tried to bury myself in work and a thousand other things that haven’t done a damn thing to ease the sting of her leaving.

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