Page 31 of Chasing Bandit

Wylie: He’s also dead.

Clay: Dramatic.

Nash: Calm down, Wylie. ??

Wylie: See you fuckers in 15 minutes.

**** Thirty minutes later ****

If Stevie didn’t think I was going to make a scene, she was sorely mistaken.

Yes, I understood that she’d said we could continue dating other people, despite me reassuring her I wasn't interested in dating anyone else, but I hadn't actually thought she would. Maybe I was a tool for feeling that way, for wanting her all to myself, and maybe it was my ego in the way, but I thought I’d been clear. I wasn’t fucking anyone else, and I expected the same from her. Especially after I'd taken her raw.

I wasn't being fair, but the way my jealousy was set-up, logic and reason went out the door the moment she said, 'I do.' I wanted her to myself. For only my eyes, my hands, and my cock. Hearing that she was on a date, likely not wearing her damn wedding ring again, I was livid.

I drove separately from Nash and Clay, determined to find her quickly and whisk her away back to Cameron ranch—where she truly belonged. Stepping into the bustling rodeo pavilion, I scanned the crowd with an intensity akin to a metal detector seeking treasure, mine being the golden hue of Stevie's blonde hair.

I spotted her five sections away, engrossed in conversation with a tall man whose back was turned towards me, sporting a black cowboy hat. Just as I began to stride over, Nash intercepted me unexpectedly with a flat hand pressed firmly against my chest.

“Wylie, think about what you’re about to do. You cause a scene and Stevie’s not going to go anywhere with you willingly," he cautioned.

“I don’t care if she’s willing or not. She’s coming home with me.”

Nash kept his hand pressed to the middle of my chest firmly, as if he thought he was holding me in place. He was a big guy, much like me, but I had always been able to handle my little brother, who was only ten months younger. I knew that with a quick flick of my wrist, I could easily put him on the ground if he dared to stop me, and he was well aware of it too. My anger and I had always been a formidable duo when it came to fighting.

He withdrew his hand momentarily, a smirk spreading across his face. My eyes darted between Stevie, animatedly chatting with the man, gesturing with her bare hand where neither my mom nor my ring were visible, and Nash's wide grin.

“You like her.”

“Fuck yea I do,” I stated without hesitation.

Nash shook his head. “You aren’t even trying to deny it anymore.”

“She drives me nuts, Nash, but I'm crazy about her.”

Nash smiled and nodded again. “The Vector girls have a way of pulling you in and not letting go.”

“She doesn’t want me like that,” I retorted.

Nash shrugged, “Show her why she should. Y’all are already married.” He snorted. “Shouldn’t be that hard to turn this thing into something real.”

“Married on paper only, as she’s enjoyed reminding me every chance she gets.”

He shook his head and laughed again, “Y’all are too much alike but let me tell you, she’s nothing like Lana. Lana was manipulative, controlling, and evil. With Lana, y’all would break up just to make up. I think you fell for Stevie when she came to visit eight months ago for Thanksgiving and you ain’t been able to get her out of your mind since.”

Fucking, Nash.

He wasn’t wrong. When I’d gone to Houston, I didn’t know what I was doing knocking on her apartment door, as if she’d be sitting there waiting for me to haul her ass back to Lonestar Junction but seeing her with another man – a naked one – just a few days after we’d been together, it'd fucked me up.

I thought that was it, but I was never getting over her. Nash wasn’t wrong, she’d infiltrated my life, and I wasn't going to let her go willingly this time.

“I don’t love her.”

Nash shrugged, “You can grow to love someone. You just gotta like them a whole hell of a lot and realize you’d do anything to be with them. I think you already got that going for you now.”

He clapped me on the back of the shoulder and nudged me forward, “Go get your girl. Make a scene for all I care, just make sure you tell her what you want.”

I stalked forward, motivated by my fucked-up feelings for Stevie, possessiveness, jealousy, and rage. She saw me over the stranger's shoulder before he did and before she could utter a word of explanation, I reached her, seizing her waist and silencing her with a kiss. As soon as she responded, parting her lips to welcome my tongue, and kissing me back, any doubts about her feelings vanished.

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