Chapter 11
Drinkaby - Cole Swindell / Roulette On The Heart - Conner Smith (Feat. Hailey Whitters)
Kinsley
A body pressed in behind me.
I looked over my shoulder to a face I didn’t recognize. The guy was smiling at me like a total sleazeball while his hands went to my hips. I was about to not-so-politely tell him to fuck off when another hand grabbed mine, yanking me forward, and twirled me around into a lively two-step.
“Cutting in!”
“What are you doing?” I laughed, moving my feet in the familiar quick-quick-slow-slow pattern.
“Saving some joker’s life.” Grady grinned back at me. “You can thank me by making me look good in front of those girls over there. No fancy moves, though; this honky-tonk dancing is hard.”
“I’m thinking you don’t need any help to look good. That performance in the ring tonight was pretty damn impressive.”
“Right?! I was fucking awesome!”
I loved his non-existent modesty.
“Got your sights set on Pbr?” My dad was one of the top Professional Bull Riders in his day.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “See what I did there? I’m learning to talk like a cowboy and everything!”
I shook off a laugh. “You should talk to my dad. He’ll for sure have some advice for a career path.”
“Wow, that would be amazing. I’ll take any help I can get.”
My face fell. “See? It’s not that hard! Somebody offers help, and you take it! It doesn’t have to be a big deal!”
Understanding flashed across Grady’s face. “It’s not a big deal for me, but it is for him.”
“Why?” I stopped dancing and let my arms fall to my sides.
“It’s a pride thing? I don’t know. I don’t get it, but that’s just the way he is. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
I recoiled at Grady’s words, my body tensing up. It wasn’t a surprise to hear Wyatt loved me, but hearing it said out loud was like a punch to the gut.
My chest tightened, and I struggled to catch my breath for a moment. The sting of tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as a wave of emotion washed over me.
I loved him too. So damn much it hurt sometimes. But that wasn’t our problem, was it? Love wasn’t enough to make us work.
I blinked, forcing the tears back as I clenched my jaw. I would not cry over this—over him—again. Not here in this crowded bar, surrounded by strangers.
My hands balled into fists at my sides as I fought to regain my composure.
Grady was watching me closely, brow furrowed.
I forced a tight smile. “Yeah, well, love’s overrated.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth, a bitter lie, but saying them out loud made it feel a little truer and a little easier to swallow than the lump rising in my throat. “Ugh, forget it. I need a drink.” I left Grady standing in the middle of the dance floor and headed to the bar.
I ordered a shot, downed it, and then downed two more.
“Are you okay?” Maisey came up beside me and eyed the empty glasses on the bar.
“Great!” I forced a smile. “Let’s dance.”
The song Drinkaby by Cole Swindell filled the room, and I grinned. Perfect timing . I pulled Maisey to the dance floor, right in the line of sight of the now four cowboys. Great, maybe I could get my friend noticed by one Rhett Parker. If anyone deserved a love story, it was her.
Maisey’s eyes went wide when she saw him there watching us. She hesitated, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she tried to back herself into the crowd.
“No, you don’t.” I pulled her out into the open. “Time to shine, my friend.”
The two of us ate up the dance floor. Maisey hardly glanced at Rhett; she was having so much fun.
The alcohol was well into my system, and I felt good. I wanted to stay in this country music induced trance where the rest of the world fell away, but it wasn’t the world that fell away. It was me that got knocked on my ass, my balance seeming to have … disappeared.
What the hell?
A hand reached out to me, and I grabbed it, allowing it to pull me back to my feet. Oh, my arms felt heavy—or my head did? Something was heavy. The floor wasn’t that bad. Maybe I should sit back down.
I tried to sink to the floor, but muscular arms circled my waist. I ran my hands up someone’s biceps; I liked them a lot, these arms. They held me tight, and I decided I wanted to keep them.
My body relaxed and swayed, but my head was still heavy, so I rested it on a solid chest. Oh, that was so good too. It was warm and smelled like pine and horse—probably my favourite smell ever—and I breathed it in, closing my eyes.
“Mmm,” I said. “This is wonderful. So much better than the floor. Can I stay here?”
“Kinsley,” an exasperated but familiar voice said.
I looked up into Wyatt’s deep brown eyes. He was looking down at me with an annoyed expression, but there was something else there too. Longing? Well, I should hope that’s what it was.
“Kinsley,” he said again.
“Shh. You’re ruining it.” I put my head back on his chest. Reaching up with my right hand, I put my fingers through the hair on the back of his head and rubbed a lock between my thumb and finger. I thought I heard him sigh over the beating of his heart before he rested his cheek on the top of my head.
Together, we swayed, and that was when the world fell away. I couldn’t even hear the music anymore. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that. Maybe I was even sleeping.
“Hey, Kins.” Maisey’s hand was on my shoulder. “Time to go.”
“Nuh-uh,” I mumbled, burying my face in Wyatt’s chest.
“The bar is closing.”
I lifted my head and looked around. The place was emptying.
“You girls have a ride?” Wyatt asked her while still keeping me on my feet.
“Umm, Reed. But where did he go?” She searched the room.
I wanted to go back to sleep.
“Let’s go.” Wyatt scooped me up into his arms.
Oh, this was nice. I could get used to this.
He carried me out to the parking lot.
“I think this is my new preferred method of transportation,” I slurred.
Wyatt grunted in response. He put me in the front seat of his truck. Maisey got in the back with Finn. Grady and Rhett were across the parking lot, talking to a couple of girls.
“Aww, Mais, we should’ve asked Rhett to come with us! I’m such a bad wing … something.” I whined.
“Kinsley, shut up,” Maisey said tightly.
Finn, beside her, hid his smirk under his hand.
“Oh, oops.” I covered my mouth. “My bad.”
Wyatt started the truck, and we drove out of the parking lot in silence.
I woke up to Wyatt unbuckling my seat belt. I blinked. We were in front of my trailer.
I stumbled out of the truck, my knees buckling underneath me. Wyatt grabbed me around my legs and threw me over his shoulder. His ass looked great. He carried me into the trailer, setting me down on one of the leather recliners.
He looked around my mobile home and scratched the back of his head. “Geez.”
“Like it?” I threw my arms out, showing off my fancy new digs. “Wait, who am I kidding? Of course you don’t. I’m a spoiled rich girl who hasn’t earned any of it.”
Wyatt’s shoulders slumped. He sank down into the chair next to me, putting his face in his hands. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through his soft hair.
“I don’t want to fight, Kins.” Wyatt’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yet that’s all we ever do—fight or fuck.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest.
Wyatt flinched as if stung, his eyes squeezing shut. The pain etched on his face made my heart ache. I wanted to smooth away the furrow between his brows and erase the hurt I’d caused.
Unsteadily, I pushed myself up from the couch, the room tilting slightly as I found my balance. I took a tentative step towards Wyatt, then another, until I was standing right in front of him. His eyes were still closed, his jaw clenched tight. I could see the rapid pulse at his throat and the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.
Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself onto his lap, straddling his hips. The couch’s leather creaked beneath our combined weight.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open, his hands automatically coming up to rest on my hips, steadying me. The heat of his touch burned through the thin fabric of my dress.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of his ear as I whispered, “So, let’s not fight.”
Wyatt inhaled sharply, his fingers flexing against my hips. “Kinsley.” My name was a plea and a warning all at once, his voice husky and strained.
“Hmm?” I nuzzled into the warm skin of his neck and placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below his ear, feeling his pulse jump beneath my lips.
“You need to go to bed.” Wyatt’s words were barely coherent, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my mouth.
“I’m trying to,” I murmured, trailing kisses down the column of his throat. I lingered at the hollow above his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin.
Wyatt’s breath came faster, his heart pounding against my chest.
Suddenly, he stood, his hands gripping my thighs as he brought me with him. I gasped in surprise, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist. The world spun as Wyatt carried me the few steps to the bed, then gently lowered me onto the mattress.
For a moment, he hovered above me, his hands still on my hips, his eyes dark and intense. I could feel the heat rolling off his body, could hear the ragged sound of his breathing. I wanted to pull him down to me, to lose myself in his touch and taste.
But Wyatt pulled away, his hands leaving my body and the warmth of him disappearing. “Good night, Kinsley.” His voice was thick with an emotion I couldn’t name.
I reached for him, my fingers grazing the front of his shirt before he stepped back out of reach. My heart sank as he turned away, each step he took increasing the distance between us.
I watched him walk away.
“Wyatt, please.” My voice was small and pleading, barely recognizable to my own ears. “Don’t go.”
He paused at the door, his shoulders tense, his hand gripping the handle. For a moment, I thought he might turn around and come back to me. But then he shook his head, and my hope withered.
“I can’t, Kins.” His voice was strained. “Not like this.”
The finality in his words cut deep, and a familiar ache bloomed in my chest. This was how it always ended between us—with misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and unresolved tensions hanging in the air like a thick fog. I wanted to be angry, to lash out and blame him for all the problems between us, but it wasn’t just his fault. We were both guilty of letting our pride and stubbornness get in the way of what we truly wanted.
As Wyatt slipped out of the trailer, I curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.
I was tired of crying over Wyatt, tired of my heart being ripped apart every time he walked away from me. But no matter how hard I tried to steel myself against the pain, it always seeped through the cracks.
Tonight, I had allowed myself a moment of weakness, a moment of hope that maybe we would find our way back to each other. But as the cold, empty space in the bed beside me attested, that hope was fleeting.
I wanted to forget our problems, to ignore the baggage we carried and simply bask in the warmth of his love. But love alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. And that gap grew larger with each passing day.