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I blink hard and look again, but whoever I saw is already gone. Swallowed by moving bodies, hats, and people heading toward the concessions. My pulse keeps pounding anyway, sharp beneath my ribs.

“You okay?” Clint asks, instantly moving closer.

I force my mouth to move.

“Yeah.”

Tripp’s brows pull together, but before he can say anything, an announcer calls for the next photo, and Clint’s attention shifts just enough for me to shove the moment down.

It wasn’t him… couldn’t be him. Peter doesn’t know where I am, nobody from back home does. It was someone that probably just looked like him. Plenty of guys wear leather and have dark hair. Lord knows plenty of guys are unfortunately shaped like bad decisions.

I breathe in slowly, and turn back toward the guys.

Briggs is watching me again. His buckle catches the light, dust clinging to one side of his jeans. He saw something. Maybe not what I saw, but enough to know I’m not quite right.

I lift my chin.

I’m fine.

His eyes narrow slightly.

The photographer tells them to get closer, and Clint pulls me into his side without asking. Tripp slides in on my other side, still grinning, still making some comment under his breath that makes me elbow him. Briggs steps into the frame last, close enough that his arm brushes mine.

The camera flashes, people cheer, and standing there between them with dust on my boots and my heart still beating too fast, I realize something with enough force that it nearly knocks the air out of me.

I didn’t run out here because I forgot myself. I ran out here because this is where I wanted to be.

With them, in their world, where everyone could see.

Briggs shifts beside me, his hand flexing once near his thigh, like he wants to reach for me and doesn’t.

I look at him anyway.

Let him see me there.

Let him see that I chose the dust, the noise, the horses, the rodeo, the whole messy life he keeps acting like I’m too young or too city or too something to want.

His jaw twitches.

Clint leans down to kiss my temple, while Tripp says something ridiculous about celebrating properly tonight, and while Briggs stays quiet and stares at me.

I’m not standing outside anymore, Briggs. I’m already in.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

Clint

The first sign the night is about to get out of hand comes when Autumn heads into the bathroom and tells us she packed a surprise. The second sign comes twenty minutes later, when the door opens. I look up from where I’m sitting on the bed, and immediately forget whatever Tripp is saying.

Autumn stops just inside the room, and does a slow turn.

Christ almighty… Lord, give me strength to not fuck my omega every hour tonight.

The denim romper hugs her in all the places other men shouldn’t notice. Thin straps disappear over her shoulders, the shorts show off legs I’ve spent weeks pretending not to stare at, and when she turns around, the lace-up back takes years off my life.

Beside me, Tripp goes completely silent. Which might be the most shocking thing that’s happened all day.