Page 109 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“I hate that he could just come back in and make me feel safe again, like I could trust him, like he was supposed to stay.”

My boots scraped against the pavement, the cold biting into my skin, but I barely registered it. The frustration in my chest ran hotter than the air.

“And before you say he didn’t leave, I know,” I snapped, throwing my hand toward the arena behind me. “He… checked out. He told me we’d talk later and instead of actually clearing the air, he does that.”

I huffed. “My lady? In front of everyone. Like a public claim?” My throat tightened. “He can’t ignore me in private and then act like I’m his in public, Harleigh. I don’t know if I should be pissed or⁠—”

“I have to be real with you. What’s actually wrong?” Harleigh crossed her arms, leveling me with a look.

I stopped pacing. My throat tightened. The fissures inside my chest cracked, and the words tumbled out. “I’m terrified.” My voice wavered. “Terrified, something bad will happen to him. That I’ll be too frozen in my own fear to help him. That I’ll be paralyzed because of—because of what’s dirty.” My breath hitched, but I forced myself to keep going. “I’m scared of falling for someone because Mike was good at the beginning, but then—” My eyes slammed shut. “Look what happened.”

The words felt too big, too raw, but they kept spilling out.

“I’m terrified, Harleigh. Absolutely terrified of being with someone and walking on eggshells, of losing people I love, of trusting someone with what happened to me and then watching them run.”

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything I was too afraid to say before. Harleigh exhaled and stepped closer.

“The accident doesn’t define you,” she said softly. “I’ve told you this before, Fabs, but fuck what Mike said. He was wrong about everything.” Her eyes searched mine, steady, unwavering. “And it’s not fair to compare Mike to Beau. They are wildly different people.”

I swallowed hard, blinking up at her.

“You have every right to be mad about him running hot and cold—that’s not okay. You can’t fault him for being scared, especially if you are too.”

I was punishing Beau for ghosts that didn’t belong to him. I was holding onto fears that had nothing to do with him, using them as a shield to keep my distance and be upset with him.

Because I was scared. Of what loving someone could cost me. Of trusting the wrong person again. Of getting comfortable, of letting my guard down, of believing in something real, only to have it ripped away.

I had been here before—falling, hoping, losing. And when I lost, I lost everything.

The memories clawed up my throat, suffocating, drowning me in the past, in the paralyzing helplessness of it.

My knees gave out. I sank into the snow, barely feeling the sting of it soaking through my jeans, my hands trembling as I pressed them into the frozen ground.

I was terrified of loving. Terrified of losing. Terrified of what it would do to me if I had to survive it again.

If Beau felt even an ounce of the fear that I’d been holding onto, then I was wrong for punishing him.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, the word breaking apart as it left me.

Harleigh knelt beside me, silent, and I let myself break.

37

Beau

“The girls are back in town, the girls are back in town,” Harleigh singsonged as she and Fable strolled into the restaurant.

She had texted earlier, asking where we were, tossing in a quick excuse for running late—something about needing to finish up extra content.

We were with the whole group, packed in so tight we’d practically taken over the restaurant. I’d saved two seats next to me, hoping they’d show—not that I’d admit it.

Harleigh and Fable scanned the crowded table before their eyes landed on the open spots beside me.

“Look at that,” Harleigh mused, nudging Fable. “Two seats left. Right next to him.”

Fable groaned. “You sit there.”

Harleigh smirked. “No, you sit there.”