“Hey,” I say carefully, leaning against the wall.“Everything okay?”
She blinks up at me like she forgot I was there, then sighs.“Yeah.It’s just Rooster.Club stuff.You know how it is.”
I don’t, not really.
But I nod anyway because she looks like she’s one minute away from throwing her phone straight through the window.
Outside, I catch sight of movement through the screen door—Rooster, Falcon, and a couple of the other bikers moving around Sawyer’s big-ass truck.
Their bikes are all lined up, and they’re strapping down equipment, checking tires, slamming shit.
The kind of purposeful motion that says something’s about to go down.
“What’s all that about?”I ask.
Kristie’s still staring.
“They’re heading out.Running a truck full of bull jizz to Indiana or some crap like that.”
“Bull jizz?”
She waves a hand.“Apparently that’s a thing.”
I blink.“That’s a thing?A thingthing?”
“Yep.”She gives a humorless laugh.“Our lives are weird, huh?”
Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.
She goes back to pacing, muttering something aboutmen and their timing, and I just stand there, staring out the window, feeling that strange twist in my chest again.
Sawyer’s leaving.
And if what I overheard from Rooster earlier is true, it’s not going to be some easy Sunday drive.
There’s been talk of sabotage, rival ranchers, and bad roads crawling with worse people.
Sawyer’s walking straight into trouble.
And I hate how much that thought scares me.
It’s crazy.I’ve known him for what—a day?Almost two?
One kiss and I’m acting like some love-drunk teenager watching her high school crush ship off to basic training.
But it’s not just the kiss.
It’s the way he looks at me.
Like I’m not a burden.
Like maybe I belong here.
And that?That’s dangerous as hell.
Still, I can’t let him leave without saying something.
I hurry out the door, gravel crunching under my boots, my heart doing its own private drum solo in my chest.
