6. Callie
Chapter 6
Callie
Hot air blows on my bare feet, perched on the dash, my purple polka dot nail polish looking out of place against the masculine tan leather. The scenery is repetitive, all smooth roads and open plains. And I love every moment of it.
The baking sun, the dust kicking up from the sides of the road, the prairie flowers lining the ditches there’s beauty in its simplicity, something a city could never have.
Things worked out okay. Colt bribed some ranch hands to drive his truck to his parents’ place, leaving no more excuses for why we can’t all go together.
It would be perfect if it weren’t for these two sour idiots.
The silence between Maverick and Colt holds an underlying tension that’s impossible to ignore. When we stopped for gas, Colt’s shoulder brushed Maverick’s arm, and you’d think they’d been burned for how fast they jerked apart.
This was not what I was expecting when I’d finally made the decision to come back. Maybe I was naive to think everything could be the same, the way I’d frozen it in my mind. It’s not the first time I’ve realized that my fantasy about their happy life was more about my comfort than reality.
I had to believe it so I could keep living without them.
My gaze traces the side profile of Maverick’s face, the rough arch of his nose, likely broken more times than he can count. His brows are heavy, a five-o’clock shadow covering his sharp jaw, and the purple bruises under his eyes revealing his lack of sleep.
He’s wearing that stoic expression he likes, one that makes him appear unbothered. It probably works on everyone else, but the prominent tendons running along his throat give away his agitation.
You never know what you had until it’s lost… That thought threatens to defeat me, but screw that.
I still have time to fix this before I go back.
“I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Colt groans, head hitting the back of my seat. “At the very least, turn on some music. Do you always drive in complete fucking silence, man? Are you a masochist or something? Is this some new form of torture?”
Colt sounds so miserable I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Maverick glances at me from the corner of his eye, and I shrug.
“He’s not wrong. Any more of this and I’m going to overthink my entire life.”
Maverick gestures to the radio with his chin. “You choose.”
Pure static fills the speakers when I twist the knob, and Maverick gives me a knowing look.
“Please tell me you don’t drive in complete silence every trip?”
“Of course not… I listen to true crime podcasts, but I didn’t think you’d like it.”
There’s rustling from the back seat, and Colt pops his head through the center console.
“You too? Have you listened to the one where she faked her own kidnapping to escape her abusive husband and then helped take down his whole trafficking ring?”
“Yeah, that one’s pretty good, but the Backroad Butcher series had me hooked. The way he stayed under the radar for two decades—terrifying.”
“I bawled like a baby listening to the kids addicted to fentanyl. Fucking travesty.”
The oh-so-reserved Maverick replies, “Same. Those kids didn’t deserve that.”
Mouth open, I sit in awe as the two of them go back and forth about their favorite cases.
Maybe I won’t be the one to bring them back together after all. Clearly, true crime’s doing a good job on its own.
There’s a glint in their eyes as their competitive spirits rear again, getting into their own theories about who did what in unsolved cases.
Both of them have decent arguments, neither really backing down, but at least they aren’t going for each other’s throats for once.
“Come on, man. You’ve got to admit that note makes her look guilty as hell,” Colt says, hanging over the console so far he’s practically in the front seat. You’d think these two were professional investigators for how into it they are.
Maverick’s laugh fills the cab of the truck, and it hits me in the chest.
I haven’t heard that laugh in years and forgot how sweet it is. It’s almost a giggle, which should seem out of place on such a serious guy, but it’s so pure and true it’s impossible not to get caught up in it.
By the way Colt jerks back, no longer shoved between us, it’s clear I’m not the only one affected by Maverick’s laughter.
I twist to look at him. His dark hair covers his eyes, shielding his expression, but a rigidness has replaced the relaxed stance from seconds ago.
I catch Maverick glancing in the rearview mirror, his expression darkening as he takes it in. His mouth pinches tight before he turns forward again, like none of it happened.
Just like that, a wall falls between them, and we’re back to silent resentment.
Well, I can’t take it.
I yank out my phone, shuffling through all my songs. There’s a giddiness forming in my chest when I spot one I know they both like.
We’d belted this song out at the top of our lungs back then, so loud my mom yelled at us. That didn’t stop us from replaying it over and over like it was our summer anthem.
I hit Play, and both guys groan the second the first chord starts.
They’re so alike that it’s hard not to tease them. I’m positive they’d hate it, but come on… the temptation is so freaking real.
Stubborn. That’s what they freaking are when the lyrics start and neither sings.
Fine, then.
I belt the song out as loud as I can, throwing all the same ridiculous emotion into it as I did back then.
I do the stupid hand gestures we made up, not caring how ridiculous I look, and squeeze my eyes shut, letting the nostalgia wash over me.
My head snaps up when Colt joins in on the second chorus, a look of pure exasperation on his face, but he sings with me.
His voice is rough and deep, nothing like the boy I remember, and tingles race down my spine, raising goose bumps in their wake.
Women must be falling at his feet… I’m struck by a jealousy so sharp my voice cracks on the next word.
But Colt doesn’t look away.
His blue eyes are locked on mine, piercing into me, holding me in place.
I’m being pulled toward him, like he’s tied a rope to my heart. I’m drifting across a distance I hadn’t realized we still shared.
It’s the way he’s staring that has me holding my breath.
He’s still singing at the top of his lungs but it’s directed at me.
It had always been just fun before, but now, the meaning of the song sinks into me.
A girl too wild to tame, who he aches to ask to stay.
A boy who watches her among wildflowers, knowing he loves her enough to set her free but still hoping she’ll choose him.
It’s a whispered promise and a plea that has blood rushing in my ears.
The emotions rolling through me take over, and I’m frozen, unable to make a sound, my chest tight.
Then, Maverick’s voice joins in.
Strong and steady, wrapping around Colt’s in a way that steals my breath all over again.
The two of them, once so fractured and sharp-edged, are suddenly singing together like they never fell apart at all.
The sound fills the truck, fills my chest, until it’s hard to tell where the music ends and the feeling begins.
It’s everything I missed. Everything I thought was lost.
Unlike Colt, Maverick’s not looking at me but every word feels aimed at my heart.
My eyes sting as everything we’ve left unsaid bubbles up between us.
The guilt that’s been twisting my stomach slowly untangles with every word.
Chances are I’m reading too much into it… but it feels like they’re telling me they understand.
That they don’t hate me for leaving.
I’d been holding that fear deep inside that I’d show up and they’d want nothing to do with me.
And it would’ve been fair.
I walked away.
I broke what we had, and they only know half of my reason.
This isn’t forgiveness.
But it’s a start.
It’s understanding .
For the first time in a long time, my breaths come easily.
Colt’s smiling at me now, his grin wide, laughter in his voice, and it calls me back to life.
Maverick too, singing beside him.
Their voices mix, reaching for me.
Calling me home.
I catch the final chorus, singing my heart out, laughter bubbling up until I’m breathless, my chest light and full.
I didn’t know how badly I needed this.
But somehow, they did.
Being read this easily should be terrifying.
But with them?
I don’t want to waste a single second on misunderstandings.
I’m still riding the high when Maverick pulls into a familiar-looking motel.
A carbon copy of the one we were just in.
The entire parking lot is jammed with pickup trucks, all bearing some version of a bull-riding logo.
A laugh bubbles out of me, half disbelief, half wonder. This is my life now, dust and grit and a million battered trucks. Rough men with rougher dreams. A world built out of eight seconds and broken bones. And somehow, I fit here. I belong here again.
Colt and Maverick unload our bags, back to acting like the other doesn’t exist, even while working together.
Maverick brings my bag over but doesn’t hand it over when I reach for it.
“Come on. Let’s get you checked in.”
Nerves twist in my gut, not knowing how this is going to play out.
I’d been a little too excited when I flew in… “Yeah, about that?—”
“Woah, you made it alive,” Luke says, coming up to us looking mischievous.
“Thought for sure one of you would kill the other.”
He circles Colt, who shoves him lightly.
“Holy shit… not even a bruise.”
“Get the hell out of here,” Colt mutters, but there’s a red tint at the back of his neck, and I don’t miss the way he glances at me.
He knows damn well I don’t like them fighting but I’m not naive.
They’ve made their distaste for each other loud and clear.
Luke examines the three of us and nods like he’s figured it all out.
“It’s because of you,” he says.
“Tell me, how did you get these two whipped so fast? Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get them to get along? Do you have any idea how awkward it is to have my two friends hate each other?”
He says it in a way that’s half joke, half truth.
I shrug. “They clearly like me more. You should work on that.”
Luke rocks back on his heels, a slow smile forming.
“I’m starting to understand why.”
Biting back my smirk, I reply, “You know, you’re growing on me too.”
“Sounds like Luke’s banned from hanging out now,” Colt says, stepping between us, arms crossed, staring down his friend.
Luke laughs. “Hey now, I’m just being friendly. Not every day you two bring a girl around.”
I don’t have time to process the idea of them bringing a girl around any day when Maverick cuts in.
“Knock it off.”
He places his hand on my lower back, warming me through the thin fabric as he guides me toward the motel office.
I’m not ready to move, but I follow him anyway.
Everything about Maverick screams he’s in charge responsible, dominant, possessive.
His gentle touch promises he’ll take care of me if I follow his lead.
I’m swallowing hard as my thoughts turn somewhere they don’t belong.
His near-black hair that’s normally pushed off his face falls into his eyes, giving his already broody look even more heat.
I’d be a millionaire if they ever let me turn them into a thirst trap.
There’s a line coming out of the office door, and I stop when Maverick’s hand tightens on my waist, pulling me into his side so he can drop his mouth to my ear.
“I’ll talk to them about getting your room moved beside mine.”
My cheeks heat, and I can practically feel the blush taking over.
“I know that look. What did you do?” Colt asks suspiciously.
“I didn’t… I didn’t book a room.”
I barely get the words out before both guys are turning on me, shouting in unison:
“ What ?”