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I slam the screen door behind me so hard it rattles in the frame. My boots thud against the porch as I storm down the steps, fists clenched. Daddy’s voice is still ringing in my ears.

Good. Let my little brother choke on the damn responsibility.

The summer sun’s sharp and hot already, baking the dirt path as I march toward the stables. I don’t care where I’m going, just that I’m not in that house one second longer. House? More like mansion. But it’s always been my home.

I need air. Space. Wind in my hair and hooves pounding under me. I need my horse. I need quiet.

Rounding the corner by the tack room, I freeze.

He’s there.

Shirtless. Covered in sweat and dust. Muscles coiled like a predator’s, one hand on the reins of my favorite mare, the other holding a saddle like he owns the damn world.

Hudson.

My breath catches before I can hide it. His back’s to me, but I’d know that frame anywhere. The way he moves, the lazy confidence in the tilt of his shoulders. The boy who used to race me across pastures like we were chasing fire.

“You planning to steal a horse, Stable Boy?” I call out, voice steadier than I feel, using the name I used to tease him with, automatically.

He stops.

Turns.

And grins.

His voice is deeper now, a slow southern drawl that drips like molasses. “If it ain’t the Horse Princess herself.”

He’s older. Bigger. Broader. More than a foot taller than lil’ ol’ me. That wild boy I knew has grown into something more dangerous, something feral and beautiful. And Lord help me, I feel it everywhere. A hum under my skin. Down deep in my belly. A pull.

“You look like hell,” I say, crossing my arms, trying to ignore it.

“And you look like trouble. As usual.” His eyes rake over me, slow and shameless, from my worn jeans to my tank. “All grown up now, huh?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s been years. Years since the town turned on him. Since the rumors started swirling about monsters and mutilated horses and madness. Since his daddy ran off and Hudson got stuck with that snake of a preacher next door.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

His grip tightens on the reins. He doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Leavin’,” he says finally. “Paradise ain’t paradise anymore.”

The mare flicks her ears, maybe sensing she’s about to be stolen. I step closer, dust swirling around my boots.

“Take me with you.”

His head snaps up, startled. “You serious?”

“Yeah.” Another step. Close enough now I can see the freckles across his nose, the scar by his jaw from where he fell off the roof of the hay barn when we were thirteen. I’ll be damned if I let him steal from Paradise Falls. Mama’s favorite, Firecracker. Too bad I don’t have my .38.

But I almost convince myself, as I try to stall him. “I don’t want this place. I can’t stand James. I don’t want any of it.”

He stares at me, searching my face like he thinks I’m playing a joke. Like the years that passed between us weren’t so full of silence and ache.

Ain’t I? I could just as easily be serious. His doubt is eating me up. “You ever think about me?” I ask, voice soft.

His hand drops from the saddle.

“All the damn time, Sophie Montgomery.”

The kiss comes like a strike, fast and hard. His lips crash into mine and I don’t hesitate, I don’t think. I melt into him like I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day he left. Since the day I stopped believing in happy endings.

He presses me back against the barn wall, one arm around my waist, the other braced above my head. His mouth is hot and desperate and tastes like dirt and sunshine and everything I ever wanted.

“You still kiss like a damn horse girl,” he mutters between breaths.

“You still kiss like you were born in a barn.”

He laughs. A rough sound that vibrates through me, making me tingle where I shouldn’t.

“I missed you, Horse Princess.”

“I missed you more,” I mumble, not wanting to admit it.

The heat rises between us, coiling low and tight like a summer storm about to break.

My fingers slip into his hair, still damp from sweat, tangling at the nape as I draw him closer.

His breath brushes mine, ragged and hot, and when our lips meet again, it’s desperate, hungry, like we’re trying to devour every second we’ve lost.

His hand slides to my backside, gripping like he means to keep me tethered to this moment. Against his hard erection. My nails scrape the back of his neck and he groans into my mouth, deep and low, the sound rattling straight through me.

I’m thinking about giving him everything. Right here in the dust and hay, under the slanted light of a barn we used to race past as kids. About letting go of every rule I was raised on. And hell, of seriously tearing off this life like a too-tight dress and losing myself in him.

I’m thinking about burning this whole damn legacy to the ground and building something wild and free with him from the ashes.

We break apart just long enough to breathe. He goes for the waistband of my jeans.

“Not here,” I say in a panic. “I’ll pack a bag,” I whisper. “We ride out before anyone notices.”

Did I just decide to run away with him?

“You’re serious,” he says, his whole face smiling.

My heart melts. I nod, slowly.

I am.

His thumb brushes across my bottom lip like he’s sealing the promise between us. “You sure?”

“I don’t care where we’re going,” I tell him, the truth finally pouring out of me. “As long as it’s not here.”

“I’ll finish saddling the mare,” he says, voice hoarse as he registers my resolve. “Meet you back here in an hour?”

I nod, already halfway gone.

He kisses me again, softer this time, like he’s memorizing me. Pulling away, he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. Then he turns back to the mare, tightening the cinch strap with steady hands while my heart gallops in my chest.

I slip out of the barn, eyes burning with everything we just lit on fire.

And I don’t look back.

I run to the house, heart pounding, shoving things into a duffel. Jeans. Money. A flashlight. I don’t even remember what I pack. I’m just high on hope and hormones and the wild idea that maybe I can outrun this place with the boy who has always looked at me like I hung the moon.

I get back to the barn. I wait by Firecracker.

The hour passes.

Then two.

Then three.

The sun rises higher, and my hope sinks lower.

By the time I give up, I’m shaking. I walk the whole damn property, barefoot, dust sticking to my skin, hoping I’ll find him leaning against a fence post, hat tipped down, telling me he got delayed.

But he’s not there.

He never shows.

Hudson is nowhere to be found.

I go back to college the next day. I throw myself into school. Parties. Work. Boys who kiss soft and mean nothing.