Page 27 of Ride Me Reckless

"She ain't Tessa," Rhett added quietly. "But that don't mean she won't try to be."

I clenched my jaw.

Kenzie was sweet. Eager. Talented as hell. But she wasn't the girl who'd kissed me with tears in her eyes and asked nothing from me but the space to fall apart.

She wasn't the girl who still haunted my nights, even after all this time.

"Let's get through the party," I finally said. "And keep your damn mouth shut."

Rhett chuckled and lifted his bottle in salute. "Your wish is my hangover."

As we walked back toward the lights and laughter, I felt that low thrum in my chest again.

Like something was coming.

Or maybe, something I hadn't finished with was already here.

The fire was crackling by the time I made my way back to the edge of the yard. Beer in hand. Boots planted just outsidethe ring of light. That's where I liked it—close enough to see, far enough not to be seen.

Kenzie's birthday bash was in full swing. A couple dozen folks from the rodeo circuit, all loose-limbed and loud, circled the bonfire like it was a damn altar. Someone passed a guitar, someone else passed a bottle. The karaoke machine had mercifully died, but the stories hadn't. Too many lies wrapped in laughter.

And then there was Kenzie.

She was radiant tonight—tight jeans painted on, her boots kicking up dust as she flitted from group to group. Her top shimmered under the string lights, and glitter dusted her collarbone like she'd rolled in stardust on purpose. She was holding court, eyes bright, smile aimed to kill. Every guy within a ten-foot radius was already a casualty.

I took a long pull from my beer, leaned against the fence, and looked anywhere but at her.

"You act like you're at a damn funeral," Rhett said, sliding up beside me with his own drink and a smirk that knew too much.

"I'm just tryin' to avoid a hangover," I muttered.

He snorted. "That ain't why your jaw's grinding like a fencepost in a hailstorm." He tipped his bottle toward Kenzie. "She's legal now, you know."

I gave him a look. "Don't start."

"I'm just sayin'. Girl's got plans—and you're in about half of 'em, far as I can tell."

I said nothing. Just stared into the fire like maybe the answer was buried in the flames.

After a beat, Rhett shifted, more serious. "Morris, Kenzie's father, mentioned something a while ago," he said, keeping his voice low. "Tessa is just scraping by in Dallas. Barely had enough to make the race. You knew that?"

My grip tightened on the bottle. "Nope."

"Well, she is. Morris loves to gossip. Lovelace is a small town, you know. Reckless needs a new tranny, and they're deep in credit card debt. Tessa's driving on fumes."

"She always was stubborn," I said, forcing indifference into every syllable.

Rhett laughed, but it wasn't mean. "You've got the loyalty of a damn hound dog, Colt. Even after she ran you over."

"She didn't run me over," I muttered.

He raised a brow. "Then what do you call leavin' without a word? You didn't even check in after?—"

"Drop it," I cut in.

He watched me for a second. Let it settle. "You're still in it, brother. Whether you like it or not. How many times have you two hooked up during her recent visit?"

"None of your business."