Maybe that’s what’s hardest about all this, no one did anything wrong. They just … felt too much.
I reach for Harper, squeezing her shoulder lightly, grounding her with my touch.
"I should’ve been here sooner," I murmur.
She just shakes her head, sniffing, but I know better. I know I failed her today.
And it’s not just guilt eating me up. It’s her. Stormy. That message on her phone.
Stormy, I love you…
From somebody named Sam.
I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Wasn’t aware she loved someone. And now, standing here with Harper sobbing in my truck, with regret weighing down the air between us, I feel stupid. Stupid for wanting to kiss her, and stupid for the way I’ve been looking at her …the way my mind has been drifting toward her in every quiet moment since she arrived.
Stupid for letting these ridiculous feelings pull me under, so much so that I slacked on the only thing that should matter. Harper needed me, and I wasn’t there.
And now, I know. I know that Stormy has somebody. I know spending time with her is bad and wrong, because she’s becoming a distraction—a dangerous one.
And I know, with sudden, unwavering certainty, that I need to stay away.
After dropping Harper at home and spending a few hours watching movies and inhaling Ben & Jerry’s—because the ranch could wait—I find myself heading toward the fields. I need a ride with Raven.
As I near the pasture, Jensen’s truck catches my eye, parked alongside the fence. He must’ve come to check on things with Star. And then I find him, but he’s not alone. Jensen stands beside Raven with someone next to him. The golden hair is instantly recognisable, catching in the sunlight as Stormy tucks a loose strand behind her ear. Of course she’s here.
I don’t take a moment to think. I stride toward them, boots kicking up dust. She turns, spotting me, and like always, she smiles. Soft. Warm. Too damn friendly.
"Hey, Ford … Is everything okay?"
I sigh, long and deep, before I even stop walking. The weight of this afternoon pressing down on me.
"Stormy."
She tilts her head, clearly waiting for more. But I don’t give her anymore.
Instead, I scrub a hand down my face, exhaustion threading through my bones.
"Look," I say finally, voice steady, ignoring Jensen as he stands there. "I don’t need any new friends."
Her brow furrows.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I say, shaking my head, gaze fixed somewhere past her shoulder. "I’ve got enough on my plate without you hanging around all the time."
I see the hurt and frustration in the way her shoulders tense and the way her fingers curl against the hem of her dress.
"Hanging around?" she repeats, voice edged, but quieter now. "I … I don’t know what you mean."
I exhale.
"Yeah, well, I don’t have time for this, for you."
Fuck, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
She recoils slightly, as if the words land like a physical blow. Beside me, Jensen sucks in a breath.
"You don’t have time for me?"
