The hand resting on his knee reaches out and cups my face. “God, no.”
“Then help me understand why you did it?”
“I don’t have a good reason, except I was stupid. You had left, Russ handed me a joint, and then I was in the car with his friends. He stayed back, tried to get me to stay too, but I shrugged him off. I wanted one more night of chaos before we moved away.”
I watch silently as his jaw tics, almost as if he’s reliving the night. “When I got home, it was close to two-thirty in the morning. Dad shoved me inside, told me to get a shower, pack a small bag with essentials, and get in his truck. I tried to call you on the landline because I lost my phone, but no one answered. I couldn’t blame anyone; it was the middle of the night.
“We drove to Dayton, where I got on a bus to basic before the sun came up. No call. No note. No chance to look you in the eye. And I hated him for it, but I hated myself more. Because you were waiting for me—at that shitty one-bedroom we picked out in Columbus, the future we’d promised—and I broke all of it. You didn’t deserve that version of me. You deserved better. I never wanted to leave you behind, but I wasn’t worthy of your love. Not until I grew up.”
My chest rises and falls as I wrap my arms around myself like I’m holding all our shattered pieces.
“You think that makes it better? That knowing it wasn’t your hand holding the knife makes the wound hurt less?”
His throat bobs. “No. I—I need you to know I never chose to leave you. Not then. Not ever.”
I aggressively wipe my cheek, furious at the constant stream of tears that won’t quit. “I hear you. But I can’t forget what it felt like. Not just to be left, but to never hear from you again. Even if I understand it now, so many years have passed of me thinking one thing when it’s been another.”
I push to my feet. I can’t sit next to him, can’t look at the pain and honesty in his eyes. The same ones I once looked at like they hung the moon.
Moving close to Copper, I trail my hands down his neck. It’s true what they say about horses—they’re emotional sponges and highly sensitive to our feelings. The more I brush his coarse hair, the more I feel my body calm. The conversations we’ve had today have been hard, daunting, emotionally exhausting.
Copper whips his head up, startling me briefly, before nuzzling into Jett’s arm as he leans against the fence.
“I hate how I fucked everything up.”
The ache in my chest twists tighter. “You didn’t fuck everything up.”
“Didn’t I?”
“We both did,” I answer, honestly. “Yours was the catalyst, but I kept secrets too.”
“But if I hadn’t left, then maybe…”
And it’s with those unsaid words that I feel the pain all over again, because of course I’ve played thewhat ifgame a thousand times.
I don’t have anything to say that wouldn’t make it worse. I’m tired of living in the land ofwhat ifsandI’m sorrys. Nothing I say will make it better, so I keep my mouth shut.
Right now, this is enough. It’s time to process what we’ve learned and figure out if there’s any way we move forward.
“We should head back.”
I nod as he steps forward, untying the reins.
“Swing up first.”
And I do. He hands me the reins as I scoot as close to the pummel as I can. The ride back is going to be tight and uncomfortable, but it’s not something we’re new to. Jett swings up onto the horse like it’s second nature, and to him, it is.
His hands settle on my thighs as he takes the reins from me. Our fingers brush and my body heats. He settles behind me and as Copper starts moving. I can feel the solid wall of his chest brushing against my back with each step.
Neither of us says a word the entire ride back. We’re both lost in thought—well, I’m lost in the way his body molds against mine.
The air swirls around us, charged with sexual tension and longing.
When we get back to the barn, Jett climbs off Copper first before reaching for my hips to help me down. My body slides down along his, and I’m hit with another wave of desire at ourconnection. Goosebumps break out over my skin and my pulse rises. When I glance up, I can tell he feels this too.
Jett cups my jaw in his large hands, neither one of us breaking eye contact. I don’t even think we’re breathing, both afraid this moment will break. He leans forward, his lips landing on mine. And I kiss him back. It’s soft. Cautious. But it morphs into more as his tongue slips between my lips. Our tongues battle, but it’s not long before I’m pushing away as I gasp for air, Jett’s hand never leaving my jaw.
“I need to head home,” I tell him. It’s not quite the truth, but I need time alone to wrap my head around everything that’s happening.
