Page 49 of Jinxed Hearts

Dylan Wyatt Freaking Hayes. Leaning against the bar, eyes locked on mine like I’m the only one he sees. His worn jeans and fitted T-shirt make it impossible not to notice the muscles bulging beneath.

My heart skips. Trying to focus on the dance steps is impossible when my eyes keep sneaking glances at him. He looks completely relaxed, chatting away, like he hasn’t just turned my night upside down by simply existing.

Izzy catches me ogling him. “Oh, I see what you’re looking at,” she teases, not realizing I want to do a hell of a lot more than just look. “Let’s show Dylan and his pretty decent-looking friends our riding skills.”

My face turns bright red. “Bad idea. I’ll probably break something at this age.”

Izzy grins. “Stop overthinking. Tonight is about fun, remember?”

Before I can argue, she—or the tequila—convinces me that the mechanical bull’s a great idea. The crowd cheers each rider on, whether they last eight seconds or fall in two.

“I don’t know about this,” I say, nervously looking around at the bar. But she’s already chatting up the guy running it, laughing at whatever he says as she signs us up.

Next thing I know, the operator’s giving me a cheeky smile. “Hold onto your panties, sweetheart.”

I climb on, gripping the cool leather, acutely aware of every gaze in the bar. The bull jerks forward. I sway left, then right, tequila-fueled confidence kicking in.Yee-haw.Itstarts spinning faster, and suddenly I’m launched. I end up flat on my back, sprawled across the padded mat, soaking in the adrenaline.

Dylan walks toward me, that damn smile impossible to ignore.

“So that’s what you look like riding… a bull,” he teases. “Not bad. Maybe if you were closer to my age, you could’ve lasted longer.”

I roll my eyes playfully as I push myself up, wobbling slightly. “Careful. I might be older, but I can still kick your ass.”

He laughs, offering his hand. The moment our fingers touch, jolts of electricity shoot through me. I pull back quickly. Damn it.

He steps back, eyes glistening. “I’d like to see you try. But first, let me show you exactly how it’s done.”

I fight the urge not to gawk at him as he strides toward the bull. “Fifteen seconds,” I say, my lips curving. “That’s all you need to beat.”

He throws me a cocky grin, hopping on. “Easy.”

And suddenly, I don’t care how tonight ends. It’s just me, tequila buzzing in my veins, and Dylan—owning the entire bar. He moves effortlessly, his hard, defined body in sync with each violent jerk and spin.

“Holy hot damn, I wish I was that bull right now,” Izzy groans, wide-eyed. “He really knows how to ride that thing.”

I swallow hard, unable to look away. I hate that she’s not wrong. My cheeks burn when he glances my way, smirking.

Fuck. Me.

With one final spin, the bull throws him off, but he lands smoothly, rolling onto his feet with ease.

Dylan strolls over, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Not bad, right? I usually last a lot longer than twenty seconds, though.”

I roll my eyes. “We don’t need to know that.”

Dylan moves closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “But youwantto know.”

The noise of the bar fades. And all I can focus on is the way he looks at me, like I’m the only woman in the room. I catch Izzy out of the corner of my eye watching. My stomach flips. How long before she starts asking questions or tells her brother about Dylan?

Izzy breaks the tension. “Speak for yourself. I’d take notes if it wasn’t my turn next.”

I force a laugh, pretending not to notice Dylan’s lingering gaze. But Izzy sees more than I’d like her to, she just doesn’t know how far this has gone.

The rest of the night flies by with laughter and easy conversation. I try to play it cool, but my senses are hyper-tuned in on him. Every look, every word, every smile sets off sparks that feel thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Thankfully, every so often, Izzy pulls me to the dance floor whenever one of her favorite song comes on. We laugh and spin around, swaying our hips like no one’s watching. Except someone is watching. Dylan. And I like that he’s watching.

On our way back to our booth, I stumble over my own feet, bumping straight into Dylan. He catches me, instantly steadying me.