I should say no. Should keep that barrier in place. Should remember every reason this is dangerous.
But my fingers are already pulling out my phone.
Numbers are exchanged. Kai watches me type. When my screen lights up with their names, it feels like a line I can’t un-cross.
Then I’m climbing into my car, surrounded by plush animals and ridiculous prizes, barely able to see out the back window, and they’re still there in the parking lot, watching like they’re reluctant to let the night end.
Kai lifts two fingers to his mouth and flicks me a kiss like he’s cocky enough to believe I’ll catch it. Carter raises a hand in a slow wave, his smile soft in the fairy lights.
I drive away.
This is a terrible idea. Getting close to them, letting them in, pretending I could ever be what they’re looking for.
But as the fair lights fade in my rearview mirror, as I replay every touch, every grin, every quiet moment where I felt… chosen, I can’t bring myself to regret any of it.
Not even a little.
7
CARTER
June’s taillights disappear around the corner, and I’m still standing in the parking lot like an idiot who forgot how legs work.
Kai bumps my shoulder. “You gonna keep staring at that road like it owes you money, or are we leaving?”
“Shut up.”
He hums, pleased with himself. “That’s a yes.”
We climb into my truck. Kai drops into the passenger seat and immediately acts like he pays the registration, one boot propped up like he’s king of my damn dashboard. I pull out of the fairground lot and aim us toward the ranch.
The night is cold and clear, stars scattered across the sky like someone got reckless with a handful of diamonds. The road stretches out empty ahead of us, dark and quiet, the kind of silence that makes thoughts louder.
I should be thinking about tomorrow. Circuit prep, as the rodeo kicks off the day after.
Instead, I keep replaying June. The way she laughed when Kai nearly ate dirt at the ring toss. Her eyes lit up every time we handed her another stupid prize. How addictive she smelled when she was right there between us.
Kai glances over. “You’re doing it again.”
“What’s that?”
“Where you go real quiet and your jaw gets tight.” He points at me like a prosecutor. “You’re thinking about her.”
I don’t bother denying it. I flick my eyes toward him. “So are you.”
Kai snorts. “Yeah, but I’m not the one pretending I’m above it.” He shifts in his seat, restless energy rolling off him. “You were real composed back there. Mr. Calm. Mr. ‘I’m just here for the community.’?”
“One of us has to look semi-functional in public,” I mutter.
“Functional is overrated.” Kai rakes a hand through his hair, loosening it like he’s trying to shake the night off. It doesn’t work. “You see the way she looked at us? Like she was two seconds from making a bad decision, then she’d pull herself back.”
“I saw,” I say, unable to stop thinking about it.
Kai’s gaze narrows, like he’s watching me carefully now. “That didn’t mess with you?”
I tighten my grip on the wheel. “What do you want me to say, Kai?”
“I want you to quit acting like you didn’t spend the whole night one breath away from losing your mind.”
