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This morning, we were happy—having great sex and everything was perfect. Now, he’s packing up and moving back to L.A. for good.
He wheels his suitcase over to the door, inching closer to me. Instinctively, I back away. Just fractionally, but it’s something. I don’t want to be near him right now, his clean, masculine scent invading my good senses. I need to protect myself, protect my heart. Crossing my arms over my chest, I throw up a barrier between us.
Colt breaks right through, skimming his thumb over my jaw. “I’m sorry, Trix. I never meant to hurt you.”
His voice is low, his touch gentle, his eyes sincere, and all of that swirls together and makes me feel worse.
“It’s fine. Good luck in L.A.” I force hardness into my tone, pushing away all the pain, the hurt, the heartbreak that is Colt Wild.
He drops his hand, wounded. “See you around.”
Then he walks out the door, away from me, and never looks back.
CHAPTER 29
COLT
Walking away from Trix is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.
And I’ve scaled buildings, swam with sharks, and been in more high-speed car chases than I can count.
What are you doing, Wild? Why are you walking away?
Just when things were starting to happen for me and Trix.
Just when things were about to get real. It’s when you always bail, Wild.
It’s what you do. Who you are.
I sigh against the plastic seat cover of my airplane seat, pressing the metal button to try to recline. But the effort is futile. The jackass behind me has his knees locked in at a solid ninety-degree angle, shoved up hard against my seatback. No fucking way am I leaning back even half an inch.
I hate flying. It’s always so cramped, so hot and stuffy, everyone jostling for the better seat, the limited space in the coveted overhead storage bins.
Maybe you’re done with this lifestyle.
Maybe you just made the biggest mistake of your life.
Shoving that depressing thought out of my mind, I shut my eyes and try to sleep through the rest of the flight. I’m sure everything will be different—better—once I land in L.A.
Spoiler alert: Everything is not better once I land in L.A. In fact, everything gets significantly worse.
I land on time, but there’s the typical logjam of flights coming into LAX, so we have to idle on the tarmac for an extra hour.
Now I’m strapped for time, and I jog off the plane to the arrival area to grab the car Stu’s supposed to send for me.
Except he forgot to send the car, so I pull up my rideshare app and jockey with the other million passengers trying to score a lift out of one of the world’s busiest airports.
I finally slide into the first available ride—not a Luxury or an XL, either, but a green, compact vehicle that barely fits me and my suitcase. To his credit, the driver speeds out of the airport and goes as fast as he can until we hit the 405. Then traffic grinds to a complete halt.
Fuck.I’m going to be late.
I text Stu my location and assure him I’m on my way and will be there ASAP. Then I click through my messages, my good knee bouncing up and down a mile a minute.
No messages from Trix.
What did you expect, Wild? She wanted more and you abandoned her. She’s not going to send you a care package anytime soon.
Tossing my cell onto the seat, I lean back and close my eyes, running through the stunt in my mind. May as well dosomething useful to pass the time instead of dwelling on what could have been.
