His voice was flat, like an empty can rolling across the sidewalk. The echo of it hit hard, bouncing around the hollowness inside me.
“Did you speak to your brothers about what your dad said?”
He didn’t answer at first. Then after an interminably long second or two he sighed.
“Yeah. They told me he was talking shit.”
“Okay.” I nodded, a bitter taste crawling up my throat.
He wasn’t going to make this easy.
Maybe I should have just walked away. Maybe I never should have fallen into bed with him in the first place.
“Good chat, Wilder.”
I turned to join Gunner in the paddock, but a hand caught my elbow.
“Tally… Brownie.”
“What?”
“I’ve just had a lot on. We had a meeting with Nate Jenkins last night and…” He pulled off his hat, dragging his hand through his hair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I swallowed the lie. “Just did some work with Maverick. How was your meeting? No problems?”
“No, it was good.” He nodded, glanced toward Gunner and Dreamy, then back at me. The space between us felt heavy. A fog of what-ifs. Of unfinished sentences.
“I should get back to work,” I said, my voice low.
Wilder nodded. “Okay.”
I had almost reached the paddock when he called my name.
I turned, slowly.
“Can I come over tonight?”
Euphoria bloomed like fire through my veins and
I hated myself for it.
Where had my pride gone? Why was I letting him push and pull me like this?
Why was I so damn happy for a crumb?
“I know I’ve been a dick, but please, Brownie.”
His brown eyes were dark and wide, full of something. Regret. Need. Maybe even apology.
Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.
“Fine.”
I turned away and tried to add some sass to my stride, but it felt hollow. Forced.
All I felt was gratitude. And I hated myself for that too.
Chapter 22
