We stood there awkwardly for a moment.
Then he gave me a quick, careful hug. “I’ll see you in December.”
When I closed the door behind me, all I felt was relief. No more wondering.
So, now, I’m lying in my bed, staring into the dark, trying not to replay the night. Trying not to compare Dixon’s gentle kiss to the way Waylon’s mouth devoured mine. The way his hands, mouth, and all of him consumed me.
I groan softly and roll onto my side.
Nope. Not doing that.
Maybe I really do just need to focus on the ranch and the rodeo academy. Next year is going to be brutal—long days, training schedules, competitions, responsibilities stacked on responsibilities. There won’t be time for men and their emotional wreckage.
That’s a good plan.
I’ll just … take a break from all of it.
Celibacy. Sure. Why not?
I huff a small laugh into my pillow. I’ve got my trusty little vibrator tucked away in my nightstand. It can handle the physical side of things just fine, and it won’t ever leave me hanging or step out with a Barbie doll.
Eventually, the tight knot in my chest loosens, and sleep starts to pull at me, slow and heavy.
I’m right on the edge of it when I hear my bedroom door creak.
Then the bed dips behind me.
“I figured you guys would be out much later,” I mumble into my pillow as a body settles in behind me.
A big, warm body.
Too big.
My eyes snap open.
Waylon’s voice slides into my ear, low and rough. “Hey, Stormy.”
Every nerve in my body lights up like a struck match.
I roll over so fast that I nearly fall onto the floor. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”
He’s right there, so close that his scent surrounds me.
The light from the hall illuminates his face—his jaw shadowed with stubble, his eyes dark and intent.
“I needed to talk to you,” he says quietly.
I look around frantically.
“In the middle of the night? In my bedroom?” I hiss. “Did you break in?”
There’s no way Grandma or Daddy would have opened the door and just let him up to my room.
“No.”
“How did you get in, then?”
I hear a giggle from across the room, and I turn to see Harleigh’s face peering through the crack in my door. Charli’s silhouette is behind her.
