Page 35 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

ALBUQUERQUE

what the hell were you thinking?

“I can’t believe you’re skipping tonight,” Rylie complains as she sprawls out on the bed in my hotel room. “All because your dad called.”

“Rylie—”

“I mean, your dad annoys you all the time, what’s new?” She tilts her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “For fucks sake, Faith. All he does is put his nose where it shouldn’t be.”

“Ry—”

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind for you, that’s what I’ll do.” Rolling over so she’s on her stomach, she reaches for her cell phone she had put on the nightstand upon her arrival. “If he thinks he’s going to guilt you about dumping that dirtbag, then he needs?—”

“Jesse and I are sleeping together.”

She freezes for a moment before slowly turning her head toward me, almost like a creepy doll in a horror movie. “What did you just say?”

“Jesse and I are sleeping together,” I repeat, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders by finally saying it out loud. Not being able to talk to anyone about it—about the feelings he has been emoting in me—has been a burden I didn’t realize I’d have to carry.

Rylie shoots up, crawling across the bed to sit directly in front of me as I lean against the dresser. Her eyes are wide, eyebrows practically in her hairline. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, no words coming out as she tilts her head, studying me.

“You and Jesse,” she finally says, speaking slowly as if it’d be any less true if she spoke any less clearly.

“Me and Jesse.” I nod.

“You’re sleeping together.”

“Yes, we’re sleeping together.”

“You and Jesse are sleeping together.”

I sigh as I push away from the dresser and head over to the couch in the corner. “You process this however you need to process this. Take your time.”

Rylie looks ready to blow up on me. Like she wants to rip me a new one, for keeping this a secret or for doing it in the first place, I’m not sure. So I’m surprised when the first words out of her mouth are, “Did you just quote New Girl ?”

“Unintentionally,” I retort, sinking into the cushions and tucking my legs underneath me. “We can definitely talk about that some more, though. If you want.”

She finally scrambles off the bed, practically tripping over her own feet as she plops down next to me with an eager expression. “Yes, because that’s what I want to talk about.” She rolls her eyes. “Tell me everything.”

“Like?”

“When did it start? Who initiated it? How is he in bed? Details, Faith. Details.”

I take a deep breath before I tell her everything.

I tell her about that day on the beach in Jacksonville and what happened in the bar.

She hears all about the gifts, the flowers, the notes, and how he stood up for me in Louisville.

And, despite my initial hesitation, I tell her all about our first time, how he’s more dominant than I had expected.

I tell her about that time in the bar bathroom and how we did it against the hotel window.

But the hardest thing to share with her was what he did for me last weekend and how that had made me feel.

Telling her how he saved me from having to sleep in my car and, despite how comfortable he made me feel to the point where I opened up like I did, that I had drawn a line in the sand the very next day.

It’s something that’s been eating at me ever since we checked out that following morning.

I knew it was necessary. Lines have begun to blur for both of us, and I need to protect my own heart—and his.

This deal between us has become messy, yet it’s one that I don’t want to stop.

When I think about having to see him every single weekend without having him physically available to me, my heart races in an uncomfortable manner.

But more than that, his attention, the way he’s become reliant on me, has sent me into a different kind of panic.

As I sat at home with nothing but time to think about our predicament, one thing became extremely clear to me: I don’t like not being in control.

My emotions have been steering the ship recently, and I can’t control how he feels or what he does.

I can’t realistically get him to stop what he’s been doing or make it so he doesn’t get attached.

And knowing I could eventually hurt him in the end—unintentionally—makes me feel horrible.

I don’t want him to want me in that manner.

The last thing I want is for Jesse to need me.

In the beginning, I bought the superstition thing, especially since all the riders seemed to have one or another.

But eventually it stopped being about superstition and started being a desperation to have me close.

Which, at first, I’ll admit, made me feel special.

It was nice to be wanted by someone. It was a feeling I didn’t realize I had missed until Jesse came along.

But now all it does is make me feel liable for the inevitable.

When the championships are over, that’s it.

That was our deal. After Arlington, I would never see him again.

He’d go and live his life for the summer back in Montana with his family on their ranch, and I’d go back home to San Francisco and find a new assignment.

That was the only clear thing in all this: where it is heading.

And the worst part is, over the last couple of weeks, I’ve found myself dreading that date.

Every time I cross a day off the calendar I have hanging up in my apartment, a wave of disappointment rushes over me.

Truth be told, I’m not ready for it to end.

That’s the one thing I’ve been willing to admit to myself over the last few days.

Our physical chemistry is undeniable, one I’ve never experienced with anyone else, and I don’t want to lose that.

And truth be told, our emotional chemistry has only begun to grow in the process.

There’s no denying we’ve become attuned to one another—anyone can see that.

But I know if I pull back on that front, I can throw away our deal.

And while I know I’m not able to give him what he wants—more—I’m too selfish to walk away from the sex.

“Jesus,” Rylie breathes as she runs a hand down her face. “That’s a lot to unpack.”

“You’re telling me,” I murmur, tucking my knees into my chest and wrapping my arms around my shins. “I don’t know what to do.”

She studies for a moment with an unreadable expression, one that has the hairs on my arms standing on end in anticipation. “You’re falling for him.”

My eyes widen, and now it’s my turn to look like a fish out of water. “What? No, I’m not.”

“Faith.” She tilts her head to the side, flashing me a dubious look.

“You can lie to yourself and everyone else, but you can’t lie to me.

I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.

Hell, I’ve watched you put work on the back burner to be there for him.

That’s something I'm pretty sure you’ve never done for anyone. ”

“That’s not true.” She narrows her eyes. “I’ve done it for you.”

Rylie scoffs. “We’re friends. I don’t count.”

“So are me and Jesse,” I retort.

“You’re friends-with-benefits, Faith. It’s completely different.” She crosses her legs and turns her body to face mine, reaching for my hands. “Talk to me.”

My brows furrow. “About?”

“What are you afraid of?”

Well, here we go, I guess. “I’m worried he’s getting too attached.

We both agreed that once the championships were over, that was it.

But the way he’s become reliant on me and feels this need to protect me, I know it’s not just physical for him anymore, which means he might end up with his heart broken after this is over. I don’t want that for him.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” She sighs, glancing down as she contemplates how to phrase what she wants to say.

When she looks back up, I find myself holding my breath.

“Honey, if you’re only thinking about him—his actions, how he’s going to be impacted—that means you’re not addressing your own feelings on the matter. ”

I shake my head. “That’s not true. I know I don’t want our arrangement to end before it has to. I know that I don’t want to lose that physical connection that we have.”

“You’re being avoidant.” I’m about to respond, but she holds up her hand. “You are. You have begun to watch every ride of his. Why?”

“Because he asked me to?” It only comes out as a question because I can’t figure out where she’s going with this.

“And you said yes because?”

“Because he said it’d help him ride better.”

She nods. “And you care about how his rides go.” It’s not a question, so I just shrug. “Why are you worried about how he’s going to handle the end of your agreement?”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Mhm, which means you must…” I just stare at her. “Faith, come on. You care about him.”

“Of course I do,” I respond, voicing something that I haven’t until now—even to myself. “But that doesn’t mean I’m falling for him.”

Rylie looks at me, disappointment riddling her features.

However, before she can say anything, my phone rings, putting our conversation to a screeching halt.

I grab my phone off the dresser and see Kai’s name lighting up my screen.

Clicking ignore, I turn my attention back to Rylie, only for it to ring again, this time with a call from Wyatt.

“Go ahead and answer it.”

“Hey, Wy, what’s up?”

“Jesse got hurt.” Those three words almost make my heart stop. I leap off the couch and begin to pace, my thumbnail between my teeth as Rylie stands, looking at me with a concerned furrow in her brow. “He’s heading to the hospital. The one near the arena.”

I run to the door and slip into my sandals, not bothering to change out of my lounge shorts and ratty tee. “How bad is it? What happened?”