Page 105 of Ride the Sky

A dark swear blasts from Wyatt’s lips. I gape at him. He’s unhappy in a way I’ve never seen him.

“I was a damn fool, Trouble.”

“You’ve gone soft, asshole,” I whisper, a warm shiver racing up my spine.

He sits up, pulls me into his arms. His eyes don’t stray from mine. “Damn fuckin’ straight. Soft for you. Every damn time.”

I run a finger over the tense furrow on his brow. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Something full of longing and pain. “I didn’t know back then. But I know now.”

My pulse accelerates.

I shouldn’t. But I ask it anyway. “Know what?”

Conviction burns in his dark gaze. “What you mean to me. What you—”

I kiss him. Before he can say more. Before he can wreck this perfect night with more perfect words.

Wyatt groans as he melts hungrily into the kiss, wrapping me tighter in his arms.Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear all over again.

I let him hold me, let myself feel like that girl from three years ago. Dangerous. Wild. Free. But most of all, home.

Iwake to dull sunlight slowly creeping in through the windows. My heart pounds out a lazy rhythm. My body’s relaxed and damn content. I feel fucking alive for the first time in a year. All because of her.

I roll over on the bed, wishing I could freeze-frame this moment in time. The sight of Fallon, beside me, is an instant hit of dopamine for all my senses. Sprawled naked in the tangled sheets, sunlight kisses her beautiful body. Her caramel-blonde hair’s a wild halo around her that I ache to run my fingers through.

Perfect. So goddamn right I can barely breathe.

I sit upright and run a hand over her toned, tattooed thigh.

There’s no girl like this in the world, so she must be my girl.

My girl.

That’s what she is. After last night, no fucking mistake about it. Fallon’s back. Even in sleep, her stunning face is fierce, defiant. I reach for her, tracing a finger along the high arch of her cheekbone. As if reminding myself last night wasn’t a fever dream. Even if it felt like it. Fallon’s pleading whispers, her heat, drenched for me and me alone.

Hell, my brain’s still reeling from the overload of information. We both dropped so many bombs, I don’t knowwhere to begin. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that first kiss. Fallon’s forgiveness.

I give her one last look then climb out of bed to find a pair of underwear and drag them on. After settling Fallon’s walker close to the bed, I head to the kitchen to make coffee.

When I return to the room, I find Fallon sitting up in bed. She’s curled up against the pillows, covered in the sheets, phone in her hand. She studies me with an emotionless expression.

“How do you feel?” I ask, crossing the room to hand her my cup of coffee. I sit beside her.

She sets her phone on the nightstand. “Tired. Sore.” A coy smile curls her lips. Aims straight for my heart. “Well fucked.”

Pride fills my chest. Then, because I’m a fucking goner, I ask, “Are you okay with what we did last night?” My voice is a rasp. I’m desperate for Fallon, but I can’t fucking help it. I’ve loved her this long. Won’t stop now.

Her face softens. “No regrets.” That softness changes to a strange hesitation. She takes a small sip of coffee. “For either of us, right?”

“Right.”

Eyes downcast, Fallon scoots to the edge of the bed, putting her mug on the nightstand.

“Hey, we’re not done.” I catch her wrist and pull her onto my lap.

“Ugh,” she says, shoving at my arm. “We’re not cuddling.”

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