14. Colt
Chapter 14
Colt
Counting the cracks in the motel ceiling for the last hour has become a new form of torture. I’ve lost track and restarted at least three times, and I’m pretty sure that last time nearly caused an aneurysm. It still beats the alternative, counting every one of Maverick’s steady breaths.
Last night was pure hell, coming in late, hoping he’d be asleep, only for us both to lie awake beside each other. Not that he had a problem falling asleep. Unlike me, he passes out like I’m not even there.
It really shouldn’t be a big deal. We’re sleeping next to each other. So fucking what? We’re adults.
So tell me why I came to bed first, thinking I’d be passed out before him, only to end up faking sleep when he came in an hour later and then he just knocked out instantly?
It’s late, really late. After being flung off the back of a bull and slammed into the dirt, my body’s heavy with exhaustion, but my traitor of a brain is flying a mile a minute.
I’ve been lying here for four hours, each minute ticking away making me more stressed.
Eventually, I give up. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed one at a time, choking back a groan. Fire rips through my side. The bruising is worse than I thought.
I brace both hands on my knees, jaw clenched, trying not to make a sound.
The bed shifts behind me. I freeze.
A second later, I feel it. Maverick’s hand, warm and slow, sliding over my lower back. Just a touch. Just enough pressure to ground me.
“You okay?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
I should shrug him off. I should say I’m fine.
But I don’t.
I just nod once, still staring at the floor. His hand lingers for another beat, then slips away like it never happened.
And God help me, I miss the contact the second it’s gone.
My stomach knots, my chest too tight, my brain a mess of static. He’s already rolled back over, breathing deeply again like it meant nothing.
Maybe it didn’t.
Maybe it did.
I press the heels of my palms to my eyes and exhale, quiet and shaky.
Sleep’s not coming anytime soon.
I pull on a thin shirt. The shorts I wore to bed will have to be enough. I absolutely refused to sleep next to Maverick in nothing but my boxers.
Speaking of that asshole, I slip on his sandals because there’s no chance I’m bending down to put on boots and head outside.
Cool air lifts the hair on the back of my neck, chilling my sweat-damp skin. Maverick’s basically a furnace, heat wafting off him in waves.
Our air conditioner’s broken, which isn’t a surprise in this run-down motel, but it does have one thing going for it.
One thing that might help me survive the next few hours until the world wakes up and I’m trapped in Maverick’s truck for one of the world’s most awkward drives.
The glass door unlocks with a swipe of my key card, and I’m instantly hit with the pungent ammonia smell of chlorine.
It’s a million times more humid in here and feels like it’s coating my lungs with each inhale.
The sound of jets has my head snapping to the side. They’re on a timer, so the hot tub should be silent right now.
Two walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, and the soft moonlight illuminates the silhouette already lounging in the water.
My breath whooshes out as my head drops forward.
The odds of someone else being here are next to zero, but it perfectly fits with how my night’s going.
“You’re up late,” the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard calls out from the shadows.
I’d recognize Callie’s voice anywhere. It’s elongated with sleep, lazy vowels coming together to form the question.
My eyes adjust to the dim lighting, and I can make out her features, the contours of her face and neck above the water.
For one wild second, it’s like we’re fourteen again, climbing the fence rails with her chasing after us, shrieking about muddy boots and broken promises.
God, she used to love us so much it hurt.
My throat’s thick. I grunt, but it doesn’t clear my voice, rough like gravel as I say, “Couldn’t sleep. What’s your excuse?”
“Hmm. Same. If I’m honest, I don’t get much sleep.”
I don’t like the sound of that. I want to dig into her every thought until I know what’s bothering her.
We’d known each other better than anyone else once, but time’s built walls between us. Blank spaces I can’t fill.
Clearing my throat, I approach, heart racing with every step. Equal parts driven to get in and knowing it’s such a fucking bad idea.
Simping doesn’t begin to describe what I’ve been doing since she showed up.
Lusting. Gawking. Fantasizing.
I’m not sure how long I stare at her, but it’s long enough for her to laugh, amusement bubbling up.
“You coming in, or are you just going to keep staring?”
Thank God she can’t see my blush. She’d never let me live it down.
I grunt again, not trusting my voice, and close the distance.
All the things I absolutely should not be doing and getting in this tub with her is at the top of that list.
The air’s heavy with bad decisions and the lack of inhibitions.
So of course, I get in.
Hot water envelops me as I dunk myself, popping up and taking a spot across from her, as far away as possible.
The position also gives me the perfect view.
Her stretched-out arms support her on either side of the rim, head tilted back, neck exposed, vulnerable.
“Fuck me. Get your shit together before you creep her out,” I mutter under my breath.
“Did you say something?”
I could kiss the jets, loud enough to cover for me.
“Ah… just…” Shit. “Just bitching about my ride tonight.” Good save.
“I still can’t hear you.”
I go to repeat it louder but choke when she moves, sliding along the curved side until she’s right beside me.
“What was that?”
Her copper hair’s pulled up in a messy bun, strands escaping at her temples, curling with the humidity, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face.
She smiles brighter, lighting up the night, and soft giggles escape her plush lips, drawing my full attention.
“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, still unable to look away.
Her giggles turn to laughter, and she bites her bottom lip.
“You should see yourself right now.”
My gaze flicks up to her eyes. Even in the dark, they’re blown wide.
Her cheeks are a rosy pink, and I want to know if it’s from the heat or me.
“You should see yourself.” It escapes before I can hold it back, my filter missing in the dark.
Her mouth parts as she sucks in a slow inhale, and I’d do anything to taste it.
Time freezes like an unturned hourglass.
Tension builds between us, steam blocking out the rest of the world.
I dip my head lower.
She tilts her chin up.
I want her more desperately than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Not a win. Not a championship. Not the gold buckle I’ve spent my life chasing.
None of it compares to her breath warming my lips.
“Do you really hate him?”
Her words are a slap, reality crashing in.
I shift away from her.
Hell. Did I just read her wrong?
She’d been so close we shared the air between us… and while I’d been consumed by the need to taste her, she’d been thinking about Maverick.
My gut curdles.
Acid claws up my neck.
I have to count to ten before I can answer.
“I knew this was coming eventually,” I say lowly. “I just didn’t think it would be now.”
“Is that what’s keeping you up?” I ask.
“Part of it.”
She hums. “I need you to help me understand. Because no matter how I look at it, I can’t make sense of it.”
I’m not as fast with a response as I should be.
An immediate yes should spring from my lips, a restatement of how much I hate him. That nothing could make me like him again.
But the words are thick in my throat.
When I search myself, I don’t find the same conviction I once had.
It’s not as hard to be around him as it used to be.
Sometimes I catch myself laughing at something he said.
Sometimes I catch myself understanding him.
Things are changing and I fucking hate it.
Hate that my walls are cracking.
But I can’t hate who’s breaking them.
I let out a long sigh.
“Sometimes I miss what we were,” I admit. “Wishing things turned out differently.” That he hadn’t chosen a buckle over our friendship. “Back then, I’d have said what we are now was impossible. I trusted him more than a brother.”
Bracing myself, I take a steadying breath.
An ache thrums in my chest, the kind that hates how everything turned out.
If I could go back, would things be different?
No. That’s not the problem.
I know better than to put this blame on myself.
Fuck, a part of me died that day when he held that trophy high.
And that’s the part that fucks with me every time I look at him now.
Because sometimes just sometimes there’s something hidden beneath his lashes that I can’t read.
Would he do it again?
Would he leave me in that hospital to chase his dreams?
Or would he follow me, hold my hand while I lay there terrified?
I couldn’t feel my legs.
The doctors couldn’t tell me if it was permanent or temporary.
And I was all alone.
I really thought he’d be there.
That I was more important.
But I wasn’t.
Callie left.
And Maverick didn’t come.
And ain’t that a bitch.
“There’s no fixing this, Callie,” I say, not sure if I’m reminding her or myself.
It hurts more than I want it to.
The feeling of losing everything good in my life, like an old wound freshly reopened.
My voice is raw, guttural as the words force their way out.
“Why did you disappear?”
She flinches, then drops her head so I can’t read her face.
Hiding from me.
I can’t let that happen.
“I’m sorry.”
Her cheeks are wet when she lifts her head.
And it’s not from the water.
It punches the breath from my lungs.
I want to take it all back.
I want to tell her to forget it, that she doesn’t need to explain, but I need to know what made it so easy to leave me.
“I want to… I really do… but I don’t know how to.”
Her voice wobbles, broken.
“I can’t stay here. I can’t live this life. I belong far away from here, somewhere no one knows anything about bulls, rides, or championships. Somewhere none of that matters.”
She looks at me, eyes full of regret. “But you belong here. This is your dream, the thing that drives you.”
Her hand lifts, gesturing to the trucks lined up in the parking lot, the logos, the gear, the unmistakable life of riders.
“I didn’t leave you ,” she says softly. “I left this .”
Her words slice me open.
My spleen’s been ruptured.
Bones shattered.
Organs bruised beneath a one-ton bull.
None of it compares to the tearing sensation ripping through my chest right now.
It’s hard to breathe.
Impossible to think through the agony.
Anger’s always been there for me but this time, it can’t mask the hurt.
Because I could never stay angry with her.
It’s torture, having her this close.
Knowing the season will never be long enough.
I want to shake her until it knocks some sense into her.
I want to fall to my knees and beg her to stay.
Over everything else, I want her to choose me.
“Do… do you want me to go?”
Fuck.
She sounds broken, cracked, just like me.
I take her face in my palms, holding her steady, making sure she knows I mean it.
“Never.”
She tastes like heaven as I crash my mouth into hers.
Nothing I imagined, no dream, no fantasy comes close to how soft she is.
How sweet the sounds she makes are.
In the back of my mind, a voice yells that I shouldn’t have kissed her without asking.
That I’m a greedy bastard, taking advantage of her guilt.
But the way she’s kissing me back, nails digging into my shoulders, her other hand yanking me closer by my hair. Callie needs this just as much as I do.
She takes from me.
And I give her everything she needs.
No holding back.
I’d give her everything if she let me.
Each brush of her tongue stitches me back together.
Her whimpers better than any painkiller, numbing my shredded heart.
We part just long enough to breathe, then crash back together again.
I eat her whimpers like a starving man, pulling her onto my lap, the sensation of her slippery skin shorting out my brain.
Nothing else matters but the feel of her in my arms.
I let her wash everything else away.
The door beeps open.
A startled grunt cuts through the moment. As much as I want to keep making out with Callie, I force myself to look.
Maverick’s standing there. His mouth opens, then shuts. His fists clench at his sides as he takes in the scene.
Callie’s straddling my lap.
Her hands in my hair.
Mine wrapped around her, possessive.
The sour taste of guilt burns my throat.
The way Maverick stiffens, stepping one foot back like he’s been punched.
I should be happy.
I should feel like I won.
But hell if I don’t want to wipe that look off his face.
If she’d chosen him and not me…
That’s not something I could come back from.
Callie inhales sharply.
Her eyes go wide, frantic as she looks between us.
There’s a desperate way she’s clinging to me, like she’s terrified to let go.
I draw a half-moon on her lower back with my thumb.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I… I don’t want…” Callie chokes out, tears spilling into her lashes.
Dread sinks in my stomach.
Whatever this is…It’s bigger than I thought.
“We can figure it out together,” I promise.
“It’s alright, Callie,” Maverick says, softer.
He’s studying her every twitch, every flicker of emotion.
His voice drops into something raw, something real.
“He’s right. We’ll figure it out.”
I don’t have time to ask what the fuck that means because Callie’s already pulling herself off my lap and climbing out of the hot tub.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she says, voice shaking. “Because I… I want you both.”
Realization slams into me.
I should be raging.
Should be pissed that she kissed me that she’s mine and now she’s asking for both.
That’s what any sane person would do.
But she looks gutted.
Like she’s already bracing for us to say no.
Like she’s about to lose something she loves.
The words claw up my throat, and I shove them into a chokehold.
Instead, I force a smile that feels like it’s tearing something loose inside me.
“Alright, Sunshine,” I murmur, voice soft but steady. “We’ll figure it out.”
She looks between us, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, like that’s the only thing holding her together.
I want to pull her into my arms.
But she steps around us, leaving a gaping hole behind her.
I’m left standing there.
Maverick standing there.
Both of us.
Fuck.