I pause—just for a second—then spot his truck. I can hardly see him in the dark. Once I get closer, I see that he’s alone, near the back tree line, leaning against the bed of his truck like he owns the night. A bottle lifts to his lips, the moon catching the curve of his jaw. No one else is parkednear him. My guess? He needed extra space to practice his broody cowboy thing.
"Keep comin’ to see me like this and I might start thinkin’ you’re sweet on me.”
I stop mid-stride, and snicker. “Listen cowboy, if I wanted something stubborn and loud, I’d purchase myself a goat.”
His grin widens, and the toothpick shifts from one corner of his mouth to the other. "You sure seemed to like me on my motorcycle the other day," he says, voice smooth.
"Maybe," I begin, climbing onto the tailgate. "But you seemed to like it just as much as I did."
The fire pit crackles in the distance, an echo of the fire I see smoldering in Trouble’s gaze. It's a dangerous thing to flirt with flames, but maybe he makes me feel reckless enough to play with fire.
"Sawyer..."
"Let me guess," I cut him off. "You’re about to give me the same lame speech about how I should stay away?"
"Wouldn't have to repeat myself if you'd listen."
That’s the problem. I have been listening to him—and unfortunately for me, this deep-voiced, hot as shit cowboy is exactly who I’ve developed a full-blown case of summer fling heart eyes for.
We’re talking summer-time-only, no-strings-attached, kiss-now-regret-later kind of fun. I’ll be back in the city soon where the only bulls I deal with wear suits and talk for the sole purpose of hearing their own voices.
“I’ve heard you loud and clear,” I admit. My last relationship flashes in my mind. I thought I was being careful with Harrison. Doing all the things I should. Look how that turned out. I swore I’d do things differently next time. Maybe slower. Maybe faster. Maybe just… safer.
But with Trouble, nothing feels safe. Which is exactly why I can’t seem to stop thinking about him.
He arches a brow. “And let me guess… you’re gonna do what you wanna do anyway?”
“We both know this can’t go anywhere. So maybe we stop pretending like we’re not thinking about the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” His grin is pure arrogance, like he knows the answer and just wants to hear me say it.
“A hook-up only situation that benefits us both,” I say, giving him the satisfaction. My voice stays steady even though my heart is doing the kind of gallop only he seems to cause lately. “I already got burned once, Trouble, and I’m not letting that happen again. And you—” I pause, meeting his gaze head-on. “You don’t want a relationship. That’s clear… so you can’t hurt me.”
I wait for the flicker of denial. I get nothing.
“Plus, I know you won’t tell anyone because you don’t want Knox to find out.”
I know the weight it holds to mention Knox. Trouble values their friendship more than most things—that loyalty is part of what draws me in, even though it makes this proposition riskier than it should be.
For a beat, neither of us moves. The fire crackles. Stars keep their distance. And for the first time in a long time, there’s nothing to hide behind.
“I know you’re not that kinda girl, and I’m not the guy you want for this,” he finally says. His tone is casual. He hasn’t shifted from where he’s leaning against the truck, hands tucked in his pockets.
“Alright, then.” I slide toward the edge of the tailgate, my pride louder than the voice in my head screamingstay. I’mnot about to beg any man to be my summer fling. “I’ll just go find another cowboy who will.”
My foot almost hits the ground—until Trouble’s large hand grabs my wrist.
Before I can blink, he steps in, slotting himself between my knees, forcing me back onto the metal. Suddenly he’s everywhere. I’m boxed in around his long arms, broad shoulders hover above me, the scent of leather and his cologne fills my lungs until I can’t think straight.
“Try it,” he dares, knowing I can’t get past him. His gaze pins me, hot and unrelenting, like he’s warning me to even look in the direction of another cowboy.
I tip my chin, refusing to look away. “Maybe I will.”
His mouth curves, dangerous. “No, you won’t.”
“Give me a reason not to," I throw back, heat rising in my chest.
“Why do you gotta be so damn stubborn?”
