Page 13 of Untamed

I make quick work of showering and getting cleaned up, then I shovel down some of the meatloaf Skylar—one of the girls who works at Oakridge—cooked and brought over to our bunkhouse for dinner.

Something stirs inside me, a mix of adrenaline and restlessness, though from looking at me you wouldn’t tell. On the outside, I keep a blank mask in place, stoic, grumpy, the guy everyone expects me to be.

“In a rush?” Tex asks, his brow raised with curiosity.

I pick up my guitar, eyeing Tex as the heat of the other guys’ stares heat my back. They’re all waiting for my answer. Yet, there’s no rule that I owe them one. I could just ignore them and walk away. But doing that might stir their curiosity, lead to one of them trailing me to the barn where I’ll be with Mila. I can’t risk that, so I grumble out a vague response.

“Nah, just meeting a friend in town.” The lie rolls off my tongue without second thought. Even if they do follow me tonight, they won’t find my truck. I had the foresight to park it behind the barn earlier, out of sight.

Tex nods, unfazed. “Alright. Have fun.”

Not bothering to respond, I slip on my boots, grab my hat and head out of the door without a backward glance.

With long strides, and a buzz of energy in my veins, I cross the yard. The moon hangs high, its light bright against the dark sky, while the stars twinkle above, either a warning or a promise,I can’t decide. The lights are off in the barn, and the door is still closed, which can only mean one thing. Mila is not here yet.

I grab the handle, slide the door open, step into the dark space and close it quietly behind me. Instead of heading to my usual spot, I make my way to the small loft above the stalls. At least there we’ll have a little more privacy should anyone venture out here. I push the old, rickety door open, and place my guitar on the small round table before settling on the couch to wait for my audience.

The minutes tick by. Ten turn into twenty, which then stretch into thirty. For a moment I think Mila isn’t going to show and a wave of disappointment settles deep inside me.

Then I hear it—the roll of the sliding door, followed by soft footsteps on the concrete floor. My ears perk, and my heart rate kicks up in anticipation. A smirk curves my lips, and the blood in my veins burns a little hotter when I hear the creak of the staircase.

Mila is coming.

Chapter Eleven

MILA

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. My gaze moves to the hay bales like a moth to a flame and my chest tightens when I don’t see Colter’s familiar frame. Frowning, I spin around, scanning the space. Nothing. Did he decide not to come? My cheeks burn as embarrassment claws at me. How foolish I was to believe he’d be here. Was this just some attempt at a cruel joke? Humiliating the rancher’s daughter?

Tears stab the backs of my eyes. Wrapping my arms around myself, I turn toward the door, desperate to get back to the lodge and escape the shame that swallows me. But then a creak overhead stops me.

My heart lurches and I freeze, eyes snapping to the loft. Hope takes flight inside me, fragile but… insistent. I step toward the wooden stairs, my pulse racing. Is Colter waiting for me up there or something else entirely? Exhaling a breath, I place one foot on the steps, climbing slowly as if bracing myself for whatever awaits me at the top. Maybe I am. In the short time I’ve known Colter, I never felt like he was out to use or demean me. It has to be him inside the loft.

If I am being honest, from the moment I met him, I’m sure I felt an intensity between us. Could it all be in my head?Something I conjured up because I wanted it to be real? Maybe. But if that were true…why else would he ask me here?

At the top, I pause, breath catching as awareness settles over me. My heart pounds so hard, it aches. I imagine it’s the way an addict wanting their next high would feel. I am on the verge of something big, unknown, and it terrifies me.

I’ve told myself repeatedly that this isn’t wrong, that there’s nothing wrong about meeting Colter here. But I know better. This is more than watching him strumming his guitar in a barn. It’s the pull I feel when he’s near, an attraction so strong it threatens to drag us both under. And yet, I can’t ignore it. Not even when I want to do the right thing. Not even when I know I should stop this before it begins. Because if I don’t, I might cost Colter everything. His job. His future. And for what? A summer full of sex? Because come fall, I’ll be forced to leave this place.

Blood rushes to my ears, my heart kicking up to an unnatural rate. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, yet I can’t bring myself to turn around. Not even when the loud voice in my head screams at me to run. Inhaling a calming breath, I try to settle the chaos inside me. It doesn’t disappear completely, but it quiets enough for me to grab the handle and push it open.

My gaze instantly finds Colter. He is sprawled on the couch, legs spread wide, and a guitar resting casually across his lap. His grumpy expression is firmly in place, but he oozes confidence with the nonchalant look in his eyes. My breath catches in my throat, pulse stuttering under the weight of his stare. His eyes sweep over me slowly, deliberately, like I’m standing here completely naked. Panic surges and I freeze. Oh, Shit. In my urgency to get down here, did I forget to put on clothes after my shower? My gaze drops to my body, and I exhale in relief. Matching sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Fully dressed, thank God.

So why is he looking at me like that?

“You weren’t on the hay bales,” I blurt out, wanting to cut through the thick tension in the room. The words hang awkwardly in the air, and I roll my eyes at myself stating the damn obvious.

His lips twitch, a hint of amusement flickering in those green eyes. “I prefer the privacy of the loft,” he drawls lazily.

My lips part, stomach tightening at the huskiness in his voice. Privacy? He didn’t seem too concerned about privacy the other night, with that woman straddling his lap and his dick swinging like he didn’t have a care in the world. So… does that mean he wants to be alone with me? Does he feel this connection between us too?

Jesus. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s probably nothing like that. Maybe he’s just particular about who he lets watch him play? Yeah, that’s got to be it. If he liked an audience so much, surely he’d be strumming out songs for the guys in the bunkhouse?

Sighing, I step further inside, closing the door behind me, and cocooning us in our own little bubble. The silence wraps around me as I pad over to the round table by the kitchen counter, pulling out a chair before sitting down. It’s been a long time since I last visited the ranch, longer still since I spent time up here in the loft. Dad had it built for the foaling season, a place for staff to stay close when the mares were ready to give birth. But from what I heard, no one uses it anymore. Dad prefers to send the mares to stud these days.

I glance around, taking in the small space, and a smile tugs at my lips as childhood memories surface. Hiding up here during a game of hide and go seek with Nova. It took her nearly an hour to find me and that only happened because Maverick and Brandon stepped in to help her. She was furious, her cheeks bright red, dark hair a mess. We didn’t play that game for a long time after that.

“Something funny?”

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