And then he walks away. Just like that. Like he didn’t just set fire to my bloodstream. Like I’m not standing there, rooted to the spot, completely destroyed by a look.
But then he stops. Not for me.
No, Will walks right up to Missy-freaking-Jones.
She’s leaning against the fence like she’s posing for a calendar, all painted-on jeans and pouty lips. Missy’s beenchasing after Sam for years until he went and got himself married. Now, apparently, she’s set her sights on his best friend.
She reaches up, fingers brushing the brim of his hat, and says something that makes him laugh.
My stomach twists.
I can’t hear the words, but I don’t need to. I know Missy’s game. Seen it a hundred times. The fake sweetness. The overly familiar touch. The way she leans in like she’s the only woman who’s ever existed. But Will doesn’t pull away.
And when Missy glances past him to me, she smirks. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Like she’s won.
Heat creeps up my neck. Not the good kind from earlier. This is sharp and cold and burning all at once.
I swallow hard, force my expression into something neutral, and turn back to Trey.
“Interview’s over,” I say, my voice flat. “I’ll let you know when the article’s ready.”
Trey nods, adjusting his gloves. “Sure. I’m up next anyway.” He pauses. “Want to hold my hat?”
I let out a laugh, but it sounds brittle even to my own ears. “Sure. Why not.”
He places it on my head with exaggerated care, like he’s trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t feel the same. And it kind of smells. But at least I don’t feel like a complete idiot anymore.
I watch his run half-heartedly. He holds on for five seconds before getting tossed into the dirt. It’s rough, but he’s grinning as he jogs back over, brushing dust from his jeans.
“Damn,” he says, panting. “Should’ve leaned left.”
I smirk. “Maybeyoushould be in the gym working on your core next to Kevin.”
He clutches his chest like I shot him. “You’ve wounded me, Phern Stone.”
I’m laughing for real this time, just starting to shake it off, when I glance over my shoulder. Will’s still standing with Missy. But he’s not listening to her. His eyes are on me. Locked in, intense, unreadable. And for one second, it’s like the air goes still.
Before I can decide what to do with that or if it even means anything, Trey shifts, stepping just slightly to block Will from my view. Whether he meant to or not, I’m grateful.
“So,” Trey says, voice softer now. “Would you want to grab a drink sometime? You know. To catch up.”
I blink, caught off guard. But then I smile.
“Yeah,” I say. “That would be nice.”
We exchange numbers, his fingers brushing mine just briefly as I hand back his hat. He tips it at me with an easy grin, and for a second, it feels simple. Easy. But as I walk toward the barn, that feeling fades with every step.
I find Liam inside, leaning against a stall, eyes glued to his phone. There’s something soft about his expression, like he’s seeing something he’s missed for a while.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He looks up, tucking his phone into his back pocket.
“Just texting with Olive.” He eyes me for a second too long. “Saw Trey giving you his number.”
I groan. “Don’t even start with me.”
“Not saying anything, cousin.” He holds up his hands, palms out. “Just be careful.”
