Page 71 of Resisting Isaac

Maybe Wild Canyon is full of wild women and that’s what he prefers.

At first, I thought maybe I needed the space, too. Thought the quiet would help. But all the silence has done is make my feelings louder.

I miss his voice. His smirk. The way he says my name as if it tastes like honey on his tongue.

Ugh, I miss his tongue.

But more than the physical connection, I miss the way he looks at me. The secret smiles. The winks.

Damn those winks.

I glance at my phone again. I don’t even know if hehas my number. But Ivy has access to it, so he could get it if he wanted it badly enough.

I’m standing near the stables about to check on Star, who Isaac abandoned after his Fight Club scene, wondering whether I imagined all of it, when I hear Mikayla’s voice cut through the air.

“I don’t care if they fire me,” she’s saying, low but clear. “I’m going to hook up with him before this is over.”

I freeze.

“I mean, it’s not like they could actually enforce the fraternization rules,” she continues, laughing. “How would they know unless they were, like,in the vicinity?And honestly? Worth it. That man looks like he could wreck me and make me say thank you afterward.”

Another female voice chimes in. “There is definitely something about hot cowboys.”

“Right,” Mikayla purrs. “The things I would let that man do to me…”

I don’t hear the rest.

I turn and walk away before I can vomit or punch something. Or both.

She’s not wrong. About any of it.

Isaac could ruin a woman. With a single look. With one of those quiet, deep-voiced words that slip under your skin and stays there for hours. I think he became part of my DNA the night we met.

He’ll flirt and tease but then he just watches. Waits. And when he speaks, he puts his cards on the table face up.

I should’ve seen this coming.

Of course, someone like Mikayla would go after him. She’s beautiful. Somehow adorable and sexy at the same time—which pisses me off a lot. She’s the kind of perfect that makes you hate your own reflection a little. And she doesn’tcare about rules or consequences. She just takes what she wants.

And the worst part?

A dark, ugly part of me is terrified she might get it.

It’s not like he owes me loyalty or fidelity or anything. We’re not a couple.

I swallow hard, pulse thrumming in my ears as I duck into the shadow of the stables. I close my eyes and remember how he ravaged me after the storm, the way his body owned mine. His hands on my hips and his mouth on my neck like he couldn’t breathe without me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but the memory doesn’t fade.

It’s been a week without him. And I’ve barely slept. I’ve been edgy and restless and altogether unwell.

And now?

Now I feel like I’m breaking.

Because he didn’t even say goodbye.

Because some other woman is circling like a vulture before he’s even returned.