Page 77 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

But they would never talk about me like that again.

That was for damn sure.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

KAYLANI

The Florida evening was muggy despite it being Fall. I was still buzzing with excitement by the time we made it back to the stalls to check on Atlas. We had taken first place in the FEI speed class.

Not second or third, but first.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. If I weren’t twenty and holding Goran’s hand, I would have skipped the entire way to the barn.

Most of the riders had already cleared out, and the lights were dimmed to a soft golden glow that felt like a held breath after the chaos of the day.

Atlas lifted his head as we approached, ears flicking forward, eyes alert, and a few strands of hay sticking out the side of his mouth.

I smiled despite the ache in my legs and the nervous anticipation of doing it all again tomorrow.

“There’s my handsome boy,” I murmured.

I unlocked the stall and slipped inside. The familiar scent of hay, shavings, and horse wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. Most people hated the smell of horses, but I loved it.

Atlas nudged my shoulder, impatient in his search for the treat he knew I had hidden. I laughed as I pulled a carrot from my pocket.

“You earned an entire basket when we get home,” I told him as he crunched the top of the treat. “Two more days like today and we’ll have all the qualifying scores we need.”

He nickered softly.

“And don’t think I don’t know you saved me again when my brain tried to sabotage us. I love you, Atlas.”

He munched down the rest of the carrot, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

It didn’t matter how old I got. I would always hug my horse the way I had when I was eight years old.

In this stall, I wasn’t Kaylani Mikhailov. I was just a girl who loved her horse. A girl who didn’t know about arranged marriages or family warfare. A girl who had not learned what betrayal or heartbreak felt like. A girl who still believed that dreams come true.

I rested my forehead against Atlas’s neck and breathed him in. Horses never judged anyone. They didn’t care about last names, expectations, or politics. They only cared if you showed up.

And I’d always shown up for him.

When I glanced over my shoulder, Goran was leaning against the stall door, watching us with that unreadable expression that softened only when he looked at me. When he thought no one was paying attention.

I checked Atlas’s water buckets out of habit, but Corey had already filled them. After brushing my hands against my breeches, I stepped toward Goran.

“You’re allowed to say it,” I teased.

He lifted a brow. “Say what?”

“That you were impressed.”

A corner of his mouth curved up. “I was definitely impressed.”

I stepped closer, and the smell of his cologne, mixed with leather soap and dust, wrapped around me. Somewhere along the way, the scent had become synonymous with home.

Before I could overthink, I rose onto my toes and kissed him. It was quick and soft. My eyes stayed locked on his.