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I stumbled out of the truck, my knees buckling underneath me. Wyatt grabbed me around my legs and threw me over his shoulder. His ass looked great. He carried me into the trailer, setting me down on one of the leather recliners.
He looked around my mobile home and scratched the back of his head. “Geez.”
“Like it?” I threw my arms out, showing off my fancy new digs. “Wait, who am I kidding? Of course you don’t. I’m a spoiled rich girl who hasn’t earned any of it.”
Wyatt’s shoulders slumped. He sank down into the chair next to me, putting his face in his hands. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through his soft hair.
“I don’t want to fight, Kins.” Wyatt’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yet that’s all we ever do—fight or fuck.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest.
Wyatt flinched as if stung, his eyes squeezing shut. The pain etched on his face made my heart ache. I wanted to smooth away the furrow between his brows and erase the hurt I’d caused.
Unsteadily, I pushed myself up from the couch, the room tilting slightly as I found my balance. I took a tentative step towards Wyatt, then another, until I was standing right in front of him. His eyes were still closed, his jaw clenched tight. I could see the rapid pulse at his throat and the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.
Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself onto his lap, straddling his hips. The couch’s leather creaked beneath our combined weight.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open, his hands automatically coming up to rest on my hips, steadying me. The heat of his touch burned through the thin fabric of my dress.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of his ear as I whispered, “So, let’s not fight.”
Wyatt inhaled sharply, his fingers flexing against my hips. “Kinsley.” My name was a plea and a warning all at once, his voice husky and strained.
“Hmm?” I nuzzled into the warm skin of his neck and placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss just below his ear, feeling his pulse jump beneath my lips.
“You need to go to bed.” Wyatt’s words were barely coherent, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against my mouth.
“I’m trying to,” I murmured, trailing kisses down the column of his throat. I lingered at the hollow above his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin.
Wyatt’s breath came faster, his heart pounding against my chest.
Suddenly, he stood, his hands gripping my thighs as he brought me with him. I gasped in surprise, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist. The world spun as Wyatt carried me the few steps to the bed, then gently lowered me onto the mattress.
For a moment, he hovered above me, his hands still on my hips, his eyes dark and intense. I could feel the heat rolling off his body, could hear the ragged sound of his breathing. I wanted to pull him down to me, to lose myself in his touch and taste.
But Wyatt pulled away, his hands leaving my body and the warmth of him disappearing. “Good night, Kinsley.” His voice was thick with an emotion I couldn’t name.
I reached for him, my fingers grazing the front of his shirt before he stepped back out of reach. My heart sank as he turned away, each step he took increasing the distance between us.
I watched him walk away.
“Wyatt, please.” My voice was small and pleading, barely recognizable to my own ears. “Don’t go.”
He paused at the door, his shoulders tense, his hand gripping the handle. For a moment, I thought he might turn around and come back to me. But then he shook his head, and my hope withered.
“I can’t, Kins.” His voice was strained. “Not like this.”
The finality in his words cut deep, and a familiar ache bloomed in my chest. This was how it always ended between us—with misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and unresolved tensions hanging in the air like a thick fog. I wanted to be angry, to lash out and blame him for all the problems between us, but it wasn’t just his fault. We were both guilty of letting our pride and stubbornness get in the way of what we truly wanted.
As Wyatt slipped out of the trailer, I curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.
I was tired of crying over Wyatt, tired of my heart being ripped apart every time he walked away from me. But no matter how hard I tried to steel myself against the pain, it always seeped through the cracks.
Tonight, I had allowed myself a moment of weakness, a moment of hope that maybe we would find our way back to each other. But as the cold, empty space in the bed beside me attested, that hope was fleeting.
I wanted to forget our problems, to ignore the baggage we carried and simply bask in the warmth of his love. But love alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. And that gap grew larger with each passing day.
Chapter 12
