Chapter Twenty Four
Maeve
I collapse on the cloud-like mattress, letting out a proper sigh as all the tension drains from my body. What started as a lovely afternoon at the lake, which honestly was one of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever seen, turned into a small crisis situation that I’ve seen one too many times.
I’ve seen my fair share of panic attacks.
That’s what happens when you have a mum who used to base her life and her value on whatever scumbag waltzed into her life, hooked on whatever they were selling, then leaving when she wasn’t useful.
Leaving little me to pick up the pieces, or try to, because she always lashed out.
The memories of sitting on our exposed wooden floor where the carpet had been ripped up, begging her to breathe just for her to verbally abuse me and blame me for being around.
Like I wanted to be there. Like I wanted to see my own mother in that state anytime someone rejected her.
I’m not saying Colt is like my mum.
No, he is far from it. But I saw the glint of panic in his wide eyes as I pulled away.
I tried to do it softly. Not to startle him.
I don’t even think he knew he was repeating “Unloved. Unwanted,” in soft breaths.
In that moment, instinct kicked in, and I knew I had to bring him back to me but also set my intentions clearly.
It would be too harmful to him and our friendship, which does mean a lot to me, to let him continue thinking this is more than it is.
And I get it—that desperate need to grab onto anyone who makes you feel seen. How you convince yourself someone’s perfect for you when you are just bloody terrified of being alone.
Been there, got the T-shirt. Well, the T-shirts of the men I fell into that trap with, wearing them as I scurried away when things went south. Hence the hiatus from men—well, until now.
A vibration tickles my upper thigh. I pull out my phone, which is probably feeling abandoned today, to see that I also have a best friend who likely feels the same way.
Iris: Hey babes. How’s things?
Iris: Girl, why you not responding?
Iris: Don’t think I won’t come over there and search for you.
Then my eyes land on another message under a name I put as a joke in my phone, never thinking I would ever actually have a message from him.
Cowboy Batman: That, angel, was never going to be a one-time thing. I need more of you.
Well, fuck. What a day.
Deciding that my mind is too fried to even fully acknowledge Wade’s message, I open Iris’s messages and hit the little mic button.
Don’t have it in me to type, but I know I need to get all this off my chest. I begin listing the day I’ve had, leaving no detail out.
From starting my day with Wade’s face between my legs, spending the day with Colt straight after, and his response to my rejection, then the new text from Wade.
There’s no such thing as TMI amongst besties— or so Iris says, likely an excuse to be a nosey git, but I love her for it.
A blue tick appears right away. Then, as expected, my phone rings. Knew she couldn’t resist.
I swipe to answer, but before I can even say hello, her voice practically explodes through the speaker. “Right, hang on. You were pissed off at Mr. Moody Cowboy two days ago, and now he's eating you out on garden furniture? Maeve, love, you'regonna have to fill in the gaps for me here.”
Well, shit. I’ve accidentally ghosted my best mate for two days. Oops. But in my defence, I’ve been slightly distracted by secrets and an eye-rolling orgasm.
I do as she asks and fill in the gaps. Given the number of gasps coming from this girl, you'd think she's landed a role in a period drama.
“Girl, this is mental!” Her voice racks up about three octaves.
“How you think I feel?” I roll onto my side, clutching my phone tighter against my ear. The fairy lights I’ve strung above my headboard to make the room feel more like mine cast a warm glow across the room, making everything feel like a warm hug.
“Oh yeah, boohoo, poor Maeve. Must be awful having two cowboys after you.” Her tone drips with sarcasm.
“Ha. Ha. Hilarious.” I shift on the bed, the soft duvet bunching under me, words already tumbling out before I can stop them.
“But seriously, I've had to gently friendzone Colt, then talk him down from a full-blown panic attack because of it—all while secretly being absolutely parched for his father, who apparently wants me back after twenty years of celibacy.
I didn't come here for this, Iris, I came here for me, to figure out my own shit, not to get caught up between a father and a son.
And now,I'm sat here thinking about Wade constantly when I should be focusing on literally anything else, and Colt's looking at me like I'm some sort of lifeline that I can’t be for him, and—”
Iris cuts me off, “Right, Maeve, stop and breathe.”
I breathe in through my nose, taking in the lavender-scented air around me. A scent that is supposedly calming but ain’t fucking doing anything for me in this moment.
“I just don’t know what to do, Iris. Everything has been going so well.
I’ve proved to myself that I’m good at what I do.
The procurement stuff has worked, the suppliers trust me, and half the town seems to know my name now.
For the first time in years, I’m not just passing through somewhere—I’m contributing.
I’ve built something here. And every morning I wake up feeling content with where my feet have landed.
I just don’t want to mess it all up. But I can’t ignore this either.
“Do you want my opinion?” Iris asks.
“You’re just gonna give it to me regardless, so why ask?” I force a laugh, trying to disguise the mental spiral I am in, even though Iris knows full well I am spiralling.
“You’re correct there! Now listen, you have spent most of your life putting everyone else first. You had to grow up a lot quicker and sacrifice a lot at a young age for the sake of others.
These trips are about giving yourself permission for once to do what you want.
So don’t let a couple of men and their drama stop you from doing that.
You’ve told Colt how you feel, made it clear to him that there’s nothing more than a friendship.
And you’ve got a cowboy who wants you after years of choosing to be alone.
That’s kind of a big deal, Maeve.” I hum in agreement, because I never really thought of it like that.
Sure, it had baffled me to realise he’s chosen me after all this time, but I never stopped to think that it means something to Wade.
“You can’t keep denying yourself things for the sake of others’ feelings, especially when you’ve been upfront about yours. And come on, even if this isn’t the place you feel you can settle, at least you get a shit tonne of orgasms while working it out”
“I don’t know, Iris… This feels more than just one of my passing trips. This actually feels like it could be the place, y’know?”
“Why not just focus on the now, babes. One crisis at a time, yeah?”
“And having one more secret to keep from Colt?” My voice is smaller than I intended. I hate the idea of keeping so many things from him, even if it’s in the name of protecting him.
“I mean one of those secrets isn't yours to tell, is it? And it's none of Colt's business who you fancy shagging.” She says it so matter-of-factly. Typical Iris.
Though, she has a point. Or maybe it’s my delusional brain taking the reins.
Either way, I know this will hurt Colt if he finds out.
But I know with certainty I want Wade. His irritating qualities and everything.
The fact that he is on my mind as often as he is shows me that.
And if I can have a bit of fun with him on the sly, while also helping him sort things out with Colt...
Well, that's basically doing good, init?
There goes my delusional brain again.
I huff out a laugh, flopping back against the pillows. “You're right.”
“Sorry, what was that? Didn't quite catch it.” Her voice is absolutely dripping with smugness now.
“Oh, piss off, Iris.” I laugh this time, the tension in my shoulders finally releasing.
“Right, get off this phone and go shag that cowboy's brains out.”
“Iris, it's gone ten at night. Bit late for that.”
“Semantics, babe. Just go get him.”
We say our goodbyes, her voice fading as I pull the phone away from my ear. The room feels suddenly quiet without her chatter filling it. Just me, and the faint thuds of my own heartbeat.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet finding my pink fluffy slippers in the dim glow of the fairy lights.
I grab my phone from the bed and shove it in the pocket of my oversized pyjama bottoms. I don’t allow myself time to care about how I look, running out the door before the doubts catch up.
There’s a cowboy out there who wants me just as much as I want him.
And I’m not waiting another bloody minute.