Prologue
DAKOTA
“Woohoo!”
Violet laughs and presses her hand to her ear as if she’s trying to hear something important. “Dakota, do you have to be soloud?”
I clink my drink against hers with a wink. “Hell yeah! This might be the last party we go to in Colter Creek. I’m gonna live it up!”
Okay, maybe I’ve had one too many, but it’s hard not to get caught up in the excitement. The rodeo today was a total adrenaline rush, and the afterparty? Even better. It’s the kind of night where the music might as well be vibrating in your bones, and I can’t get enough.
I glance around the Silver Bit Tavern, which is absolutely buzzing with energy. People are dancing, laughing, and chatting. That familiar small-town charm wraps around you like a cozy blanket.
But tomorrow… I’m leaving.
I’m leaving Colter Creek and my life as I know it. I’m moving to New York City, taking that job offer as a children’s book illustrator. And it’s both the scariest and the most exciting decision of my life.
Violet’s got her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“So, tell me again why I’m not coming with you to NYC?” she teases, her eyes practically twinkling. “You know I’d fit right in with your big-city life. I could totally rock a pencil skirt.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. “Because you’re off to college in sunny California, and I’m off to hopefully not completely ruin my life in the city. You’ll be the one living your best life, Violet.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “How am I supposed to live my best life without my bestie?”
“You aren’t going to lose me. No way. We willalwaysbe best friends.”
Violet laughs and tightens her arm around my neck, pulling me toward the dance floor, where people are already getting into the groove of the music. All I want to do is throw my worries away. At least for the night.
That’s when I feel it.
Eyes on me.
Oh, wow.
“Clint Parrish isstaringat you,” Violet gushes as if she can read my mind. “Go talk to him. He is hot.”
I try not to look, but my head betrays me and swivels anyway. And yep, there he is. Leaning against the bar like he owns the place, beer in hand, messy brown hair falling just right, those ridiculous blue eyes locked on me.
He’s not smiling. Just watching. Which, honestly, should be creepy but somehow manages to feel… electric.
“Oh, no,” I mutter, whipping back around so fast I nearly spill my drink. “Absolutely not. I can’t talk to him. I don’t even know him. I’ve just… seen him around town, that’s all.”
Violet smirks. “Absolutely yes. This is your last night in Colter Creek. Are you really gonna leave without at least one story worth texting me about at three a.m.?”
“Vi—”
“Dakota,” she cuts in, all fake serious. “The man is wearing Levi’s that should be illegal. Illegal. Do you want to die without knowing what that denim situation is about?”
I choke on my laugh, nearly snorting beer out my nose. “You are the worst influence.”
“Correction: I am the best wingwoman.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know about that…”
Violet squeezes my shoulder and gives me a little shove. “Go dance, girl. You don’t have to marry him. Just… enjoy it. Throw caution to the wind. Have fun. Do something you wouldn’t normally.”
I glance back over my shoulder, and Clint’s still there. Only now, he’s tipped his beer to his lips, eyes still on me over the rim of the bottle. The slow, intense way he’s watching me makes the whole room go still.
