Page 31 of Wyatt

I inhale a lungful of the familiar smells. For a split second, my exhaustion and nervousness lift. I’m fifteen again, and my best friend, Wyatt Rivers, is beside me. There’s no weird energy. No looming moves thousands of miles away. I don’t have a care in the world other than filling the hours of a crisp November afternoon with more of this: fresh air, family. Familiar rituals that are simple but satisfying.

I really don’t want to leave.

Being with Wyatt always feels like coming home.

Heat hits the back of my eyes, my chest squeezing. I look out the open window as Wyatt parks the ATV on the crest of the ridge overlooking the river.

He kills the engine. Without a word, he reaches for the thermos and unscrews the blue plastic cap. The scent of cinnamon, along with a hint of fiery whiskey, fills my head as he turns the cap upside down and fills it with cider.

He holds out the cap to me, steam rising off the cider’s surface. His eyes flick over my face, and his smirk disappears, a pair of indents appearing between his brows.

“What’s on your mind, Sal?”

I hate how easily this man reads me.Knowsme.

I love it so much it hurts.

Wyatt’s fingers brush against mine as I take the makeshiftcup from him. The heat between my legs blares to new life at the quick, casual, and yet somehow hot-as-hell contact. I remind myself that Wyatt’s like this with everyone.

Still can’t help but feel special. Singled out.

Wanted.

I gingerly hold the cup, heat stinging the pads of my fingers. “Nothing. Everything.”

“Lucky for you, we got all day.” He rests his bent elbow on the doorframe, his hand gripping the ATV’s roof. “Talk to me.”

“I had a really good morning.” I blow on the cider. “And it’s making me not want to go back to New York.”

It’s the first time I’ve said that out loud. Feels…nice, if I’m being honest.

Wyatt’s chest rises on an inhale. “Well, yeah. It’s heaven out here right now.” He gestures out the windshield. “No one in their right mind would wanna leave. You’d feel different if it was the dead of July, a hundred ten degrees, and you were stuck doing preg checks all day. Much as you love sticking your arm up cow butts.”

I laugh for what feels like the millionth time today. “I do know my way around cow butts.”

“You’re a goddamn expert. And because you’re an expert, you’d get bored real quick.”

Bringing the cider to my lips, I lift a shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d still love it, despite the heat and the excessive amount of ass jokes people make when I’m around to break the ice.”

Tilting back the cup, I let the cider hit my lips. It’s hot, fragrant. Equal parts strong and sweet.

“Good?” Wyatt’s gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth and back again.

I smack my lips. “Fall in a cup. Here.”

I pass him the cup and he takes it, rotating it in his enormous mitt of a hand so that his lips hit the same spot minedid. He didn’t do it on purpose. But a quiet yet potent rip of electricity courses through my skin nonetheless.

What I’d give to have his mouth on mine.

I am suddenly starving for this man’s touch. Any man’s touch really. Wyatt’s touch is at the top of my list, but obviously that’s not happening, so I’ll take what I can get.

Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity to satiate that hunger again? The second I’m back in Ithaca, I’ll be hitting the ground running. There won’t be time to go out or meet people. And I can’t jeopardize my career by hooking up with a colleague. I’ve also been there, done that. Got theThis guy made me feel like shitT-shirt.

I either speak my mind or forever hold my peace.

Wyatt makes a shockingly sexy, deeply satisfied rumble of pleasure as he swallows the cider. “Damn, Sunshine, that’s delicious.”

You’re delicious, I think as I watch him take another long swallow before handing the cup back to me.

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