Page 138 of Pink and Country

A woman, with her blonde hair tied in a long ponytail swinging down her back, passed me, her little white pooch pulling on its leash. We exchanged polite smiles, and she gave me a slow once-over. She grimaced, and I cocked my head to avoid her judgmental stare. I knew I looked like shit. But who cared?

A shiver ran through me. My clothes, drenched in sweat, stuck to my skin. Without moving from the ground, I tilted my head back, closed my eyes so the sun, peeking through the tall pine trees, could warm me up.

After a moment, the adrenaline left me, and I felt lightheaded.

Images of April, driving away, flashed behind my closed eyelids. I held my breath. My pulse spiked. She fucking stole my heart away. My chest was empty. A dark cave.

Acid filled my mouth, and for a second, I feared I’d throw up. I dropped my head between my knees. Breathe in. Breathe out.

My eyes burned, and my head pounded. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate something, showered, or shaved.

My hands trembled.

I choked on my saliva.

A blazing rock sat in my stomach.

April. I had to talk to her. See her. Hug her. I’d given her enough time. It was time for her to come back home. To come back to me.

But before making a move, I needed a plan.

My fatal mistake had been to give up and let her go. What if I’d held to her tighter? What if I’d seated her with my team? They were used to dealing with these types of situations. She would’ve realized people cared about her. Maybe it would’ve reassured her. My head spun, too many what-ifs swimming around.

April left because she freaked out. How could she believe my career was the most important thing in my life? I understood why she was scared, but she was wrong about everything else. Taylor was giving me daily updates, and I knew April was as miserable as I was.

My life meant nothing without her in it. It had lost all its magic.

My legs grew stronger after a moment, and I resumed my run. Instead of going back home, I turned around and headed for Dahlia’s.

I reached her front door and let myself in without knocking. After kicking my shoes off, I pounded through the house.

Dahlia was here. Somewhere. My patience was more fragile than a flimsy thread. I rushed upstairs and found my friend in her bedroom, draped in a towel, her hair wet.

“Carter, dear God, you scared me. What are you doing here?” Dahlia tightened the towel around her and eyed me with a frown. “You could’ve knocked. Or called. Or waited outside my room,” she criticized gently, folding her arms over her chest.

“Sorry, Dah. It couldn’t wait. I need to talk to someone, or I’ll go crazy.” I ran both my hands through my hair.

“Go downstairs, make some tea. I’ll meet you in a minute.”

I groaned but did as she said.

Busying myself in the kitchen, I tried to calm myself down. I was tracing the wood pattern of the countertop with my index finger when Dahlia joined me.

“Carter, relax. You’re making me dizzy.” Her eyes traveled over me in slow motion. “When was the last time you actually slept?” Worry passed across her eyes. “Or showered?”

I gazed around and shrugged, clueless.

“These episodes aren’t healthy, Carter. You’ve been having too many of them lately. Have you seen a doctor?”

“I don’t need a fucking doctor, Dah. I need her,” I barked. Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. My head is a mess.” I rose to my feet and paced the room, my fingers interlocked behind my head.

“Have you talked to her?”

“No,” I answered, dropping my shoulders forward. “Taylor keeps me updated every day.” The reason I made a detour to come here returned to my conscious mind. “Dah, I asked her to marry me.” The words escaped my mouth and left a trail of fire in their wake.

Dahlia’s jaw slackened.

“You did?”