Page 62 of Stay Wild Darlin’

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to constantly feel like you have to prove yourself to the people who are supposed to love you, no matter what. That sounds . . . exhausting.”

Dalton let out a breath and nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is.”

We didn’t say anything else for a moment. Eventually, he jerked his chin toward the path leading down past the trees. “You wanna walk for a bit?”

I nodded, and we fell into step without needing to say more. The trail crunched beneath our shoes, tree branches swaying above us, and the bags and noise of the shopping trip already felt far behind.

When we reached the edge of the lake, tall grass brushed against our calves, and the breeze rippled the water, making it shimmer. Dalton dropped down first, settling into the grass, arms resting on bent knees.

I followed, sitting beside him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, but not quite touching.

We didn’t speak. Instead, I watched him from the corner of my eye. I’d always found Dalton attractive—of course I had. That part was easy.

This was so much more.

There was something about seeing him like this. Not performing for anyone, not wearing the smirk or cracking a joke to deflect. It stirred something deeper in me.

Dalton’s fingers absently toyed with a blade of grass, twisting it, breaking it, starting over again.

I watched the movement, hyperaware of how close we were. Of how my own hand rested inches from his.

“I used to come out here to think. I still do, sometimes, not that it ever makes anything easier, but it’s quieter. You know?”

I nodded, because I did. The quiet didn’t fix things, but it made the noise inside feel a little more manageable.

He turned his head slightly then, eyes meeting mine and holding my gaze.

My heart did this stuttering thing I hated.

Or maybe I didn’t hate it.

Maybe I didn’t want to admit what it meant.

I looked away first.

“I should’ve brought snacks,” I said quietly, trying to deflect the tension curling in my chest. “We could’ve had a full-on picnic moment.”

He let out a quiet laugh, but it was rough around the edges. “Next time.”

I risked a glance back at him, and he was still watching me.

With the kind of look that made it impossible to pretend this was nothing.

Our arms were barely touching, but I felt him. Every breath he took. The way his shoulder would rise slightly, then fall again.

The silence between us wasn’t peaceful anymore. It crackled with unspoken things—things that felt too dangerous to name out loud.

I could sense it in the way my body had gone still. In the way his hand was no longer twisting grass but resting, palm open, like he was thinking about reaching.

For one stupid, breathless second, I wanted him to.

My pulse thudded in my throat.

I turned my head slowly, meeting his eyes again, and this time, neither of us looked away.

His jaw tightened. His lips parted like he might say something.

My breath caught.