Page 68 of Stay Wild Darlin’

You didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve locked the damn door. I don’t regret thinking about you.

Tell me what you need from me. I’ll follow your lead.

“Poppy, whatever you decide, you get to set the pace. Set boundaries. Say what you need. It’s okay to take up space, even if it feels selfish. Sometimes it has to be selfish.” She gave me a look. “You’re allowed to want the job and clarity. You’re allowed to want him and space. None of this makes you wrong.”

A weak laugh slipped out of me. “I’m sorry for dumping all this on you. I feel like I spiraled into your house.”

Fable walked across the room, bent down, and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

“That’s what friends are for,” she said, voice muffled in my hair.

I blinked hard, trying to keep the sting in my eyes from producing tears. Because the truth was . . . I wasn’t used to having people show up for me.

My phone buzzed again in my hand.

Are you safe coming home?

I didn’t respond. Instead, I hugged Fable a little tighter and pulled back, stood up, clutching my keys. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. You didn’t have to let me fall apart here.”

“Please.” She waved me off. “The boys are in Dallas for the weekend. If you want, we can drive up together and watch them. I bet Cora would love to see her favorite bulls.”

I smiled, for real this time. “Thank you.”

I headed out to my car and tried to steady my heart.

With the windows down, I drove back, letting the cool night air sting my cheeks, trying to calm the chaos still rolling through me. I tapped the steering wheel, and my pulse didn’t settle. Not even when I pulled up the long gravel path that led to the house.

It was late. I parked, climbed out, and headed around back instead of going to the front door. My place, my entrance, the little sliding glass door off the in-law suite he’d turned into my space. But the second I turned the corner, I stopped short.

Dalton was sitting on the step that led up to my door. Legs stretched out, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed like he’d been waiting for a while.

He stood the second he saw me, ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, shoving it back, but it didn’t stay. His deep green eyes found mine, and they looked tired.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s late,” I said quietly, pulling out my key, reaching for the door like we could pretend this was normal.

He stepped in front of me, blocking the lock with his body.

“P-Poppy.”

I shook my head, jaw clenched, eyes burning. If I opened my mouth, I’d fall apart. I knew it. One word, one breath, and it would all come pouring out—everything I was trying so hard to hold together.

He reached for me, and his calloused fingers brushed my jaw. He tilted my chin up, coaxing it like he needed to see me. Not my face.

Me.

His thumb grazed the corner of my mouth.

“I’ve never . . .” He swallowed hard, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Wanted something I wasn’t supposed to have this badly.”

My breath hitched.

“I was worried about you. You left. I didn’t know if I’d scared you off, or if you were okay, or if you were gonna walk out of our lives without a word.”

I blinked fast, heart climbing up into my throat.