Page 13 of Forever Wild

I can’t help but admire her passion for her job, and the way her eyes light up as she talks about it. It’s a trait I find incredibly attractive in a woman, since I’ve always been all-in on profession. Though, after the year I’ve had, I’ve lost some of the excitement I once had, and I worry I won’t be able to get it back.

“That’s really cool,” I say, genuinely enjoying our conversation. “You must have seen some amazing places.”

“I have. It’s actually pretty crazy when you consider the fact that I almost gave it all up a few years ago.”

“You did?” I ask, curious why she would give up something that seems to bring her so much joy. “Why?”

“Oh, normal life things,” she says, clearly avoiding giving me a real answer. “You know how it goes.”

I don’t know. But we also just met, so it doesn’t feel right to pry. We stand in silence for a moment, watching as the range lights dance across the grass. There’s a comfortable ease between us, a sense of mutual respect I haven’t felt with anyone in a long time. I want to take the opportunity to get to know her better, to find out what makes her tick.

“You know,” I say, breaking the silence, “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was a bit of a jerk earlier...”

Bryn waves me off, her expression thoughtful. “It’s all right,” she says finally. “I suppose someone as famous as you probably should assume the worst in people at first. And I’ve been known to rub people the wrong way.” Her mouth tenses at the sides as she says this final part.

Turning back to her tee box, she grabs another iron and starts hitting balls. Taking the hint, I do the same.

We fall into a comfortable silence, both of us hitting ball after ball. Every so often, I catch myself staring and have to physically force my head back down to the ball.

She does have a great swing.

And a great ass.

As the night wears on, I can feel the exhaustion setting in. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up with this, but I don’t want to leave Bryn just yet. It’s as if something is keeping us both here, refusing to let us part.

Finally, after what feels like hours, though a look at my Rolex informs me it has only been forty-five minutes, Bryn turns to me with a smile. “I think I’m ready to call it a night,” she says, lifting her cap and wiping the sweat from her forehead. “Thanks for the company.”

I nod, feeling a sudden pang of disappointment that our conversation has to end. I wonder if they’re leaving tomorrow. “Yeah, I should probably try to get some sleep too.”

As she starts to walk away, I consider asking her to join me for a round tomorrow but quickly shut that down. I may have been wrong about her this afternoon, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t stomp all over my heart and then ask me to pay to have her shoes cleaned before she leaves.

Dragging my hand down my face, I turn to follow her back in the direction of the clubhouse and rooms.

Bryn stops in her tracks, her back still turned to me. I can’t tell if she’s waiting for me or doing something on her phone.

Finally, she turns back around, biting the right side of her bottom lip between her teeth. “Any chance you want to get a quick nine in tomorrow morning? Our tee time isn’t until eleven oh eight, and I know I’ll be up well before that. We could probably play the back nine if we tee off at eight.”

Shocked, I stare at her face, trying to figure out what her angle is.

“You know what,” Bryn says awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with my silence, “that was silly of me to ask. Of course you want time to work on your game alone. I mean, why else would you be out in the middle of nowhere, and with your game as bad as it’s been lately—” She winces. “That’s not what I meant! I mean, I’m sure you know it hasn’t been great, but it definitely hasn’t been that bad, and who am I to talk, anyway? You’re still way better than me. Anyway. I’ll just…go.” She whirls around and hurries off.

Ouch. Not going to lie, hearing that rambling evaluation of my game stings. Even if it’s technically true. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I’d love to have some company out on the course, but I heard Erica loud and clear—no distractions. I also don’t know if my ego can take another round of feedback from this woman.

I take a deep breath, trying to get a handle on my emotions as she reaches the bottom of the hill.

“I’d love to play a quick nine with you,” I shout after her. She stops but doesn’t turn around. I hustle to catch up. “But just to be clear, I’m not looking for any kind of a relationship right now. I just want to play some golf and have a good time.”

Bryn turns to look at me quizzically, and I wonder if I said something wrong. Finally, her face relaxes into a smile. “Me too,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “Just some golf and company. That’s all I’m looking for.”

I nod, feeling a weight lifted off my chest. “Sounds perfect.”

We make plans to meet at the clubhouse at 7:30 the next morning, both of us eager to get some rest before our early tee time.

As we part ways, I can’t help but feel something fluttering to life inside of me. Unfortunately, I can’t tell if it’s my body telling me it’s excited or that I’m in danger and should be running as far as I can in the other direction.

Chapter seven

Bryn

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