Page 80 of Ride the Sky

She collapses, breathing heavily, sweat dotting her brow. The scent of hay and horses surrounds us.

Fallon peers up at me. “This sucks.”

“I know it does.” The pain on her face wrenches my heart. “I’ll get you some water.”

“No,” she says when I move to go. She offers me a tight smile. “Can you just…stay?”

Stay.

Fuck if that isn’t my undoing.

“Yeah. Of course.” I settle down beside her.

Fallon tilts her head back to the sun. Her shoulder and arm press against mine. Instantly, calm settles me.

“What if I can’t ride?” Her eyes close, and she hugs her arms tighter around herself. Sweat beads her brow, tendrils of hair stick to her pink cheeks. “Fuck riding bulls. I don’t know who I am if I can’t ride horses.”

“You’re alive,” I say.

She lets out a short bitter laugh. “It’s not enough.”

I don’t like that answer.

It is enough. You’re alive. You’re here, and you’re mine. And if you ever go anywhere again, I’ll lose my ever-loving mind.

I want to scream the truth aloud, but I don’t because she’s tired. As tired as I’ve ever seen her. She’s putting up a good fight, but she’s losing.

Breathless, she says, “I have to ride my horses, Wyatt.”

I sigh. “Fallon, you just got out of the hospital.” Fallon’s kink is if you tell her she can’t do something, she’s going to prove you wrong.

“I just want to ride again. It doesn’t have to be a bull. I just need to be on the back of a horse.” Desperation stains her voice. “I can’t lose that, Wyatt. I can’t.”

I reach over and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “You won’t.”

“Then help me.” She twists into me, those gorgeous hazel eyes wide and serious. “Please.”

“Help you with what?”

Her smile is feline. “Help me ride.”

My body locks up at her idiotic suggestion. “Absolutely the fuck not.” Little miss attitude thinks she can fix her trauma with shitty colts, tattoos, and denial when what she needs to do is sit her ass down and heal.

“You don’t think I can do it, do you?” She squeezes her fists together. Anger etched across her face.

“It’s not about you not doin’ it, it’s about you gettin’ better.” Fear pulses through me. Fear for Fallon. If she got hurt again…I wouldn’t survive it. “Goddamn, listen to me, will ya?”

“I am. I’ve listened to you all my life.” Voice dropping, Fallon says, “You trained me once. You can do it again.”

The hopeful, pleading look on her face is going to knock me fucking dead.

I swallow and stare at her. “Fallon…”

She clutches at my hand. “Please, Wyatt.Please.”

I open my mouth to say no, to sayfuck no, but nothing comes out.

Maybe it’s her hand wrapped in mine that makes me agree. Maybe it’s her wild and hopeless eyes that tell me she won’t be okay. Maybe I’m just a sucker.

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