He puts his finger over my mouth. "I'll go and earn my spot back."
I move his finger. "You can do that here."
"No, I can't. If I don't go, I might never get it back," he declares.
"That's a lie!"
"It's not! You and I both know anything can happen at any time," he reminds me.
It's true, but I also know Wyatt. And why isn't he being his normal cocky, assured self right now like he always is when it comes to riding?
"I love you," he declares.
Tears fill my eyes. "Then don't go."
He sighs and pulls me into him. "I have to."
I grasp at straws. "Then take me with you."
"I already told you the rules," he replies.
I jerk out of his hold. "Why don't you want me with you?"
A bored expression crosses his face. "Don't be crazy. Of course I want you with me, but you can't go."
"You aren't trying very hard for a man who says he wants me with him," I accuse.
His eyes turn to slits. "You're acting like a child."
I huff. "Me? You're the one who gambled all his money away and now wants to leave me."
He jerks his head backward. "Is that what you think?"
I shut my mouth, my heart racing faster.
For several moments, we stare at each other. He finally breaks, asserting, "I have no choice. I have to go."
"You do have a choice. If you go, I'm not waiting around for you," I warn.
He stands and looks down on me. "Is that the way it's going to be?"
"If you choose money over me? Yeah. It is," I say, tears spilling down my cheeks.
He studies me another moment with a challenging look, but I don't flinch. He finally replies, "I don't want to leave you, but I can't stay here. I'm sorry you can't understand the position I'm in, sugar."
A knife slices my heart, and I snap, "Don't call me sugar ever again."
He takes heavy breaths for what feels like forever, then ends up saying nothing. He turns, and walks out of my life, taking my heart and soul with him.
14
Wyatt
Present Day
The daggers from Willow's glare sink deeper into me. I try not to stare at her, but I can't help it. My cock's aching, my blood's vibrating through my veins, and every second she spends loathing me, I hate myself deeper.
A sharp, metallic, and unmistakably nostalgic clang fills the air, tearing me out of my obsession with Willow.
