Page 140 of Reckless Hearts

I nod, or I think I do. “Sticky.”

Maverick chuckles behind me. “We’ve got wipes somewhere.”

He rolls away and rustles through the duffel bag in the corner. When he comes back, his touch is gentle. He cleans me first, quietly, carefully, then Colt.

“Better?” he asks.

I hum and curl back between them. “I don’t think my bones work anymore,” I murmur.

Colt grins. “That bad, huh?”

I don’t say anything after that. I just breathe.

Let my guard drop.

Let my heart settle.

Let myself stop thinking about what comes next.

For once, I don’t brace for goodbye.

I just let myself be here.

Held.

Wanted.

Home.

Chapter 46

Maverick

It’s early.That pale, gray-gold kind of dawn that doesn’t give a damn if you’re not ready.

I slam the tailgate shut and rest my palms on the edge of the truck bed, letting the silence settle around me. There’s not much left to pack, just a few last-minute things Callie’s grabbing from inside, but I don’t move. Don’t talk. My chest is too full.

Colt’s next to me, adjusting a ratchet strap. I watch him out of the corner of my eye like he might fall over. Like if I blink, he’ll vanish altogether.

We spent our childhoods here, barefoot summers and bruised-up winters, secrets traded under porch lights and fireflies. It’s quiet now. Different. But in the kind of way that settles into your bones instead of sliding off your back.

Two weeks. That’s all it was. But fuck, it changed something.

Colt nudges me with his shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I lie because I’m not sure how to explain what this place feels like now. Like coming home to a version of myself I didn’t know I missed.

He doesn’t push. Just nods and turns back to the strap.

Behind us, the front door opens. Callie steps out with her hair twisted up and a duffel slung over one shoulder. She looks like summer and heartbreak. Like every good thing I ever thought I couldn’t have.

Colt’s mom meets her at the bottom of the steps and pulls her into a hug so tight it makes my throat close. “This will always be home, you know,” she says, quiet but not casual. Loaded.

Callie doesn’t say anything right away, just hugs her back and nods into her shoulder. When she pulls away, her eyes are a little glassy, but her smile’s easy.

Colt’s dad clasps my hand in that no-bullshit way he always does, then gives me a look like he already knows. Like he’s waiting for me to figure it out too. “Come visit, anytime,” he says, then glances at Colt and Callie like he’s drawing a damn map for me.

I nod, jaw tight. “Thanks.”

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