“I like you, Phern,” he murmurs.
“I like you too.”
And then his phone buzzes in his back pocket. He exhales, already pulling away. I step back as he fishes out the phone. One glance at the screen and his whole expression changes.
“Sorry,” he says. “It’s Natalie.”
He answers, voice soft. “Hey, sweetheart.”
I can’t hear her words, but I can tell. She’s upset.
His brows pinch together. “I know. I saw. Yeah. People can be mean sometimes. They don’t know you. They don’t know me.”
A pause. His eyes close for a second, and I can hear the edge of guilt in his voice now. “No, sweetheart. I’m not replacing your mom. I’d never do that.”
Something sharp twists in my chest.
Another pause.
“Yeah. I’ll come home early. I promise.”
When he hangs up, the quiet stretches between us again.
He tucks his phone away, staring at the grass. “She saw the brunch photos. Someone at school sent them to her. Said I was already on to the next one. She’s twelve, Phern. She doesn’t even understand what this mess is, but she’s still stuck in it.”
I step closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair to her. Or you.”
He finally looks at me. “I need to go back tonight.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“But I want to see you again,” he says, fast, like he needs to get it out before something stops him. “This doesn’t change that. But she comes first.”
“She should,” I say.
Because I know what it means to be someone’s afterthought. And I’d never want to be the reason a little girl feels like one.
“I’m probably heading back to Broken Heart Creek,” I say, quiet but certain. “Will you be there for the Love Lost Rodeo?”
Nash nods. “I will.”
“Good.” I take a step back, not because I want to, but because it feels like the right thing. “I should probably go back to the hotel alone. I don’t want to traumatize Natalie any more than the internet already has.”
His smile is soft. Grateful. “I appreciate that, Phern.”
We say our goodbyes and then I walk away.
By the time I unlock the door and step into the hotel room, I’m halfway ready to crawl into bed and breathe for five uninterrupted minutes.
Instead, I stop cold.
Will’s sprawled across the bed like he owns it. Boots off, one arm behind his head, scrolling on his phone like this is his room and I’m the one who needs to knock.
My stomach drops.
“What are you doing in my bed?”
He doesn’t even flinch. Just sets his phone aside and looks at me, calm as ever. “Waiting on you.”
