“Secondly—” She picks my point count. “You’re obsessing because you’re jealous of RodeoBrittney.”
“J-jealous?” I sputter.
“Yes, jealous.” She arches an eyebrow. “She throws herheart out to the world with full confidence that it’ll be caught.”
I scoff. “That’s just—.”
“Brave,” she finishes.
I scowl at her. “I was going to use another, more colorful word.”
“I know you were!” Jessica laughs. “Come on. Tell me you don’t want the man, and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Wanting Wyatt is like stepping off a cliff.”
"A hottie with a side of danger—me likie. How do you feel when you’re with him?”
I twist a section of Rebel's mane around my finger; the same way I've been twisting my thoughts around Wyatt all week. “When I’m with him, I feel incredible.” The memory of his mouth on mine still makes my pulse jump. It felt like I was more of what I was made to be in that moment. I’m not even sure how that works—like, is being with someone else supposed to make me feel more like myself?
“But the longer we’re apart, the more I—,” I smirk at the phone, “obsess.”
“Totally normal,” she quips.
“Not for me.”
She wags her head side to side as she considers this.
"Maybe he's just that good at seducing women and I’m as dumb as the next girl," I add, hating how small my voice sounds.
"Kinsley," she says my name like a warning.
"What? I'm being realistic. He's a top-level bull rider who has buckle bunnies throwing themselves at him in every town; and I'm the only single female within twenty miles who isn’t related to him."
The words taste like all my old fears, the ones that whisper that something inside me is fundamentally lacking and not even my own father thought I was worth sticking around for.
"Or," Jessica says pointedly, "you're overthinking this. Kinsley, loosen up a little and just have fun. Who cares if it’s a fling? There’s nothing wrong with that as long as you know it going in.”
I open my mouth to try to explain to her that this doesn’t feel like a fling. As smooth as Wyatt is, he also seems sincere. Either he’s playing me as easily as George Straight plays a guitar or he’s into me. I don’t know what’s more terrifying.
Oscar’s truck thunders past the open barn door. Rebel's head snaps up, ears back, and something cold slides down my spine. I step outside to see Oscar screech to a halt in front of the walker where his horse is tied and jump out. Wyatt jumps out the other side and slams the truck door.
I run back in and grab my phone. "Jess, something's wrong. I have to go."
"Everything okay?" she asks.
I end the call.
“Son of a —,” Wyatt’s cursing hard as he charges into the barn.
Whatever's driving him this hard, it's nothing good.
He sees me and comes up short.
"What’s wrong?" I look him over, and see straight through to the anger and frustration he’s swimming into the brokenness inside of him.
"Hey, beautiful,” he says but there’s a darkness brewing in his eyes. “Man, you make those jeans look good." He’ssaying the right words but he’s not in the mood for romancing.
"What happened?" I move closer, the taste of worry sour on my tongue.