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With a shuddering exhale, I allowed my fingers to trail from her cheek, blazing a path down the curve of her jaw and along the slender column of her neck. Her pulse fluttered wildly under my touch, those blue eyes slipping closed as she let out a soft, trembling sigh. Just like that, the last two years of anguish and bitterness between us melted away, leaving only the raw need to feel her warmth and know she was truly here and alive.
My hand came to rest against the side of her neck, fingers tangling in her silky hair. As her eyes slid open again, I drank in every detail, lingering on the slight uptick of her lips and the delicate flutter of her lashes. That spark between us, the one I’d tried so hard to smother, flared back to life, white-hot and scorching, consuming every rational thought until there was nothing left but her.
I could’ve lost her today. Could’ve missed my chance to...
I drew in a harsh breath, forcing myself to let go of that dangerous notion before it swallowed me whole. This wasn’t about me and what I wanted. It was about her, making sure she was okay and that she’d recover.
Slowly, reluctantly, I pried my hand away from those golden strands, letting it fall back into my lap. Kinsley’s eyes fluttered open again, glassy with confusion and something deeper I couldn’t let myself dwell on. Not now, not when she was hurting and vulnerable like this.
“Just rest now, okay?” I murmured, my voice sounding wrecked even to my own ears. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Her eyelids were already drooping, her body surrendering to the pull of medication and exhaustion. But not before her gaze locked onto mine one last time, unspoken words passing between us in that blinding soul-merge of a moment.
Like every other time in our tumultuous history, I felt that undeniable pull toward her light. That irresistible craving to bask in her radiance, even though I knew the blazing intensity would ultimately reduce me to ash.
Because no matter how many times I got burned, I would never stop chasing the sun.
Chapter 14
Cowgirls - Morgan Wallen
Kinsley
Iwoke with a start, my head pounding. This time, the pain was sharper, more insistent, as if it wanted to make sure I didn’t forget the price I’d paid for my recklessness.
Grimacing, I squinted at the clock that read 3:12 PM. It was the day after my accident. Yesterday, I had been groggy and disoriented. I didn’t remember much of what had happened, except that Wyatt was there when I woke up.
Nausea churned in my stomach as I forced myself into a sitting position, the room spinning momentarily. Wyatt was slumped in the chair beside my bed, legs stretched out, with his boots resting on the edge of my mattress. His hat was pulled low over his eyes.
A faint smile tugged at my lips, despite the throbbing ache. Wyatt had been a constant presence, refusing to leave my side.
The doctor had labeled my condition a “lucky escape from a worse fate” with a tinge of disapproval. I knew the risks of riding horses all too well; I didn’t need to be reminded. Yet the sport, with its lessons in discipline, integrity, and humility, gave purpose to both my and my horses’ lives. They would never know a day where they weren’t loved and taken care of. Together, we were doing something special. Nothing would ever stop me.
A knock came at the door, and my parents stuck their heads in. My mom was already crying, of course. They came into the room, followed by my sister, Abby—younger than me by only a couple years—who was staring at me wide-eyed and tense. I was always struck by how much she looked like our dad, with the chestnut hair and deep brown eyes, while my mom and I were spitting images of each other, with blonde hair and blue eyes. We look like two different families. Abby and I might as well be.
“Oh, my goodness! Look at you!” Mom cried. Her blue eyes were rimmed red, so I knew she had been crying long before now and knowing that only aggravated the nausea in my stomach.
“Shh!” I gestured towards Wyatt, who stirred but remained asleep.
“Oh, sorry!” Mom covered her mouth and looked sheepish. “I see you and Wyatt not getting back together didn’t stick for very long.”
“We’re not together.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling, honey?”
“Hey, honey.” Dad planted a soft kiss on the top of my head.
Abby offered a tight smile. I didn’t bother smiling back. She’d probably been dragged here against her will.
“I’m fine,” I reassured them. “Just a headache. I’ll be up and about in no time. You guys didn’t need to drive down here.”
“When your kid is in the hospital, you go to said kid,” dad said.
Mom nodded in agreement and pulled my blanket up around me. “You look cold. Are you cold?”
“No, Mom, I’m fine. I promise.”
“How’s the horse?” Dad asked.
