Page 31 of Buck This
“Oh come on now, I don’t think—” she took off as fast as she could, pushing her legs. Her shoes were sinking into the arena dirt and slowing her down, and whoa, this was harder than she’d thought it would be.
She reached the door, huffing breath, and turned around triumphantly.
“My bull would’ve trampled you fifteen seconds before you reached that door.”
Torrey scrunched up her face. “Admittedly I was on the high school track team and also admittedly, I got last place in most of my races.”
Buck bit back a smile. “Why would you be on a team you suck at?”
“Well, not all of us are gifted with elite athleticism and animals that can do incredible things, jerk. I’m just a human.”
“If you were a shifter, you would be a snail.”
“That’s rude!” She tried to swallow down her laugh. Truly, she did. He didn’t need the encouragement, but she got this vision of her head on a snail sliming her way toward the door and she couldn’t help herself. “Would you still play house with me if I were a snail?”
“No.” His answer was immediate.
“Well, then I don’t know if we were meant to be.”
He kicked out of his boots and pulled his socks off. “We’ve established that.” Seriousness had taken his tone, and it was clear he still had some leftover feelings about what had happened between them by the fountain. “You’re really not going to tell me what you wished for, are you?” he asked suddenly.
“What didyouwish for?” she countered.
His lips tightened into a thin line, and he busied himself with peeling his t-shirt over his head. “My wish doesn’t count. The penny hit the edge of the fountain.”
He moved to unfasten his jeans but hesitated. It was that small hesitation that exposed the scar down his rib cage. It was dark red and angry looking but was clearly long healed.
“What happened there?” she asked, closing the distance between them.
He followed her gaze to his body and shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Oh, it just showed up one day? That looks like it nearly killed you.”
“It did.”
“What happened?”
“Look, you said no talking about anything real. I’m minding your stupid rules.”
Oooh. He hadn’t liked her saying that. Okay. She should respect him and not ask anything else. He could keep his secrets and scars.
“Fine,” she murmured, and gave him her back.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you privacy.”
His sigh was loud, and she could hear the rustle of fabric behind her as he shucked his pants. “I ain’t modest.”
A hollow sensation consumed her middle, and she felt reckless to get rid of it. She didn’t like that he was angry that she didn’t want to share anything real. Or hurt perhaps, which was even worse. “My ex has my stepson.”
The rustling sound behind her stopped.
She swallowed hard and crossed her arms over her chest like it would help to keep her from shattering into a bunch of little pieces. She hated talking about this stuff.
“Aiden was five when I met Caleb.”
“Caleb is your ex?”
