But sitting here, laughing with them, feeling more alive than I have in months… I’m not sure I know how to protect myself from this.
“For the record,” I say quietly, “Tanner deserved every second of that.”
The truck fills with laughter.
Outside, the moon hangs full and silver over the hills. Some old country song crackles through the radio, and Kai hums along, off-key.
I lean my head against the window and watch shadows blur past.
These men are going to break my heart. I can see it coming, clear as the road ahead.
But tonight, wrapped in their warmth and laughter and the electric current of their presence, I can’t bring myself to care.
Tomorrow, I’ll be smart.
Tonight, I’m just going to let myself fall.
14
CARTER
The hallway is dark and quiet, the house settling into that deep-night stillness where every creak sounds like a gunshot. I’ve got my phone flashlight on low, angled down at the notebook balanced on my knee, and I’ve been sitting here for… hell, I don’t even know how long. Enough that my ass is numb against the hardwood floor and that I’ve scratched out the same line four times.
She tastes like?—
No. Delete.
When she laughs, I?—
Garbage. Cross it out.
I drag my hand through my hair and exhale slowly. This is pathetic. I’m a grown man sitting outside a woman’s bedroom door at two in the morning, trying to write poetry like some lovesick teenager. Kai would laugh his ass off if he could see me now.
I’ve never been good at saying the important things out loud. Words get stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat, tangled up with all the jokes I use to keep people from looking too close. But on paper, maybe I can be honest. I can tell herwhat she does to me without tripping over my own tongue or deflecting into humor.
I read what I’ve got so far, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough. How do you capture the way someone rewires your whole damn brain just by existing? How do you explain that you’ve spent years feeling like you’re running on fumes, and then this woman shows up and suddenly you remember what it feels like to want something?
I scratch out another line.
The soft creak comes from behind me.
I freeze.
June’s door eases open, and she steps out in a thin sleep shirt and shorts, hair mussed, eyes half closed. She’s clearly aiming for the kitchen, moving on autopilot, and she doesn’t see me until her bare foot connects with my outstretched leg.
She squeals and grabs the doorframe to catch herself. I lunge up instinctively, hands hovering near her arms, terrified I’ve somehow hurt her.
“Shit—are you okay? Did you hit anything? June?—”
“Oh my God.” She’s clutching her chest, breathing hard, blinking down at me like I’m a hallucination. “Carter. You scared me todeath.”
“Sorry, sorry—” I keep my voice low, mindful of Seth and Kai sleeping down the hall. “I didn’t mean to. Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” She laughs, shaky and breathless. “Just… what are youdoingout here?”
Good question. Excellent question. One I don’t have a good answer for.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, which is technically true. “And I figured, if you were in pain again, I’d be here if you needed help.”
