I have. God help me, I've thought about it constantly.
"What if I fuck it up?" The words come out rougher than I intend. "What if I'm not enough? What if she realizes I'm just some ranch hand who'll never be exciting or worldly or—"
"Stop." Colt squeezes my shoulder hard. "You're the best man I know. You're loyal and hardworking and you believe in things like honor and promises and doing the right thing even when it's hard. You punched out a guy for her without hesitation. You'd die for the people you love. And if she can't see that, then she's blind."
"She deserves better than me."
"She deserves someone who looks at her the way you do. Like she's the only person in the room. Like she's worth fighting for." He releases my shoulder. "And for what it's worth? I think you deserve to be happy. Even if it's complicated. Even if it's scary."
Down the hallway, I hear the guest room door open. Hear Nicole's footsteps.
"So, what do I do?" I ask quietly.
"Talk to her. Tell her the truth. See what happens."
Chapter 7 - Nicole
I stare at my reflection in the guest room mirror and hate what I see.
My clothes are rumpled from being balled up on the bathroom floor. My jeans have a stain on one knee. My tank top is wrinkled and stretched out. I look exactly like what I am, a girl who went to a shitty party, met an asshole, and spent the night hiding at someone else's house.
I miss his flannel. Miss the way it smelled like cedar and safety. Miss how it swallowed me whole, made me feel small and protected instead of exposed and vulnerable.
But I can't keep wearing Boone's clothes. Can't keep staying in his space. Can't keep pretending last night was anything more than him being a good man who helped someone in trouble.
Last night might have been my best chance. My only chance.
We were alone. We talked. We connected. There were moments. God, there were moments where I thought maybe he felt something too. The way he held my hand. The way he called me sweetheart. The way he looked at me in the kitchen like he was fighting something.
But now Colt's here, and whatever fragile possibility existed has shattered. Because Colt's my best friend. Boone's his brother. And there's no universe where that doesn't get complicated and messy and wrong.
I can't risk losing Colt's friendship. He's all I have left. The only person besides Boone who makes this town bearable. The only family I've got since my parents died.
And Boone... Boone would never do anything to hurt his brother. Would never cross that line. Would never choose me over Colt.
So, this is it. I'll go back out there, thank him again, leave, and spend the rest of my life wondering what might have happened if I'd been brave enough to tell him the truth.
That I've been in love with him for three years. That every man I've met has been measured against him and found wanting. That last night, lying in his guest room wearing his clothes, I wanted nothing more than to walk across that hallway and climb into his bed.
But I'm not brave. I'm a coward who bartends in a dying town and dreams about places she'll never see because she's too scared to take the leap.
I take a deep breath and open the door.
Boone and Colt are still in the kitchen, but their voices have dropped to low murmurs. I can't make out words, but the tone is serious. Intense.
I move down the hallway slowly, giving them time to finish whatever they're discussing. But when I reach the kitchen doorway, they both stop talking and turn to look at me.
Colt's expression is unreadable. Boone looks... nervous? Which makes no sense. Boone doesn't do nervous.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
Colt glances at his brother, then back at me. "Yeah. Everything's good. I should get going anyway. Got a lot to do today."
"I'll come with you," I offer immediately. "Need to get my car, figure out—"
"No," Colt interrupts.
I blink. "No?"
