Chapter 20
Rosie
I race up the stairs, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I don’t know if it’s from the frantic sprint at the end of the party or… No. I can’t even think about that.
I reach my room and slam the door shut behind me, leaning against it. The cold wood barely helps me catch my breath.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
I mutter under my breath, running a shaky hand through my hair, trying to push away the thoughts threatening to consume me.
What the hell happened out there? I was supposed to be in control, to keep him on edge. This was supposed to be my revenge, my chance to drive him mad. And instead… instead, I was one step away from throwing myself into his arms. Like a love-struck girl with her heart racing out of control.
With an exasperated sigh, I push off the door and start pacing the room, my bare feet brushing against the rough carpet. I can’t calm down. Inside me, it’s a storm—anger, frustration, desire.
Alex.
That damned, arrogant, insufferably sexy cowboy. How is it possible that he affects me like this? With that cocky grin, his swaggering, self-assured confidence that makes me want to slap him and kiss him at the same time... and those arms—strong, capable, holding me in a way that had my whole body screaming for more.
“Stop it, Rosie!”
I snap aloud, shaking my head like I could physically rid myself of those thoughts. But it doesn’t work. I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop imagining him in all the ways that make my pulse race.
I stop in front of the mirror above the dresser. For a moment, I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, eyes shining with a light that both confuses and terrifies me. I’ve never seen myself like this before.
“What the hell is happening to you?”
I whisper to my reflection, my voice tinged with desperation.
I collapse onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and for a moment, it feels like I can’t breathe. Logic says I should be furious with myself. I should be angry for losing control, for giving into this twisted desire. But instead, here I am, smiling like an idiot. Why the hell am I smiling?
I think about the way he looked at me. The way he held me. The heat radiating off his body when we were too close—much too close—and how, even then, I didn’t want to pull away.
You’re a very insolent princess.
You deserve to be punished.
The memory of his words hits me like a lightning bolt, making me burn all over again.
God, how much I wanted him then. How much I still want him. To be taken, held, punished—in every possible way. To feel his hands on every inch of my body, marking me, claiming me.
“It’s just physical attraction,”
I tell myself, though my voice rings hollow even to my own ears. “Nothing more.”
But even as I say it, I twist and turn in the bed, desperate for any kind of release, the need for him gnawing at me.
It’s more than desire. It’s more than a game. It’s something that’s consuming me, filling every part of me until I can’t think of anything else.
Damn cowboy.
“It’s only temporary,”
I murmur, burying my face under the pillow. “Soon, I’ll go back to my normal life.”
But the need doesn’t fade. It never fades. Even after I touch myself, desperately seeking relief in every way I know, imagining that it’s his fingers instead of mine, nothing is enough.
“You’re in trouble, Rosie,”
I whisper into the darkness of my room. “Serious trouble.”
I toss and turn, unable to sleep. My thoughts keep spiraling, always circling back to Alex. Just when I’m about to give up and surrender to a sleepless night, my phone buzzes on the nightstand.
My heart leaps as I grab it. A message from an unknown number lights up the screen:
Unknown: Hey, Princess. Hope you’re resting up—morning chores start early. ;)
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. That teasing, cocky tone... it could only be him—Alex. But how the hell did he get my number? And why is he texting me in the middle of the night?
I type back quickly:
Me: How did you get my number, cowboy? And what do you mean by that?
His reply comes almost immediately. I stare at the screen, rereading his message:
Cowboy: I have my ways, Princess. Glad to see you’re curious. I’ve got some fun challenges lined up for you. ;)
The thrill of his words sends a wave of excitement through me, mixed with something darker. Something dangerous. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to smile.
Me: Oh, really? And what makes you think I’m interested in your challenges?
His response comes back quickly:
Cowboy: Let’s call it a talent for reading people.
Me: All right, Mr. Know-It-All. What’s this big challenge you’ve got in mind?
Cowboy: Tomorrow, just some basic ranch work. I’m sure you’ll manage.
Cowboy: Then, how about a camping trip this weekend? Just you, me, nature, and the stars. Let’s see if the city princess is up for the challenge. ;)
A shiver runs down my spine—part excitement, part panic. Camping? With Alex? Just the two of us?
Me: Interesting, cowboy. I’ll think about it.
I try to sound nonchalant, even as my heart pounds against my ribs.
Cowboy: Do that. And in the meantime, dream of wide-open prairies and bonfires under the stars. Goodnight, Princess.
Me: Goodnight, Cowboy.
I set the phone back on the nightstand, my mind racing, the smile still on my face.
A camping trip with Alex... The thought excites me and terrifies me in equal measure.
Camping. Alone. With Alex.
The panic starts to set in as I stare at the ceiling in the dark. I’ve never been camping before. What do you even bring? How do you pitch a tent? What if there are snakes? Or worse… bears?
Wait… what’s worse, a bear or a snake?
I toss and turn, my mind spinning. I can’t let him know I’ve never camped in my life—he’d tease me for weeks. But how am I supposed to hide my total lack of experience?
And then there’s the matter of being alone.
Me. And Alex.
I can barely resist him when there are other people around.
The thought makes my pulse race.
Will my desire for him outweigh my desire to kill him?
I groan, running a hand down my face in frustration. How did I even end up in this situation?
This summer was supposed to be simple—helping with a wedding, trying not to hate every minute of it not getting lost in the desert with an irritatingly attractive cowboy.
“You’re crazy, Rosie,”
I murmur into the darkness. “Completely crazy.”
I toss and turn, unable to settle down.
How am I supposed to survive this camping trip?
More importantly, how am I supposed to survive Alex?
With those thoughts swirling in my head, I close my eyes, knowing sleep will be a rare luxury tonight.