Page 24

“Yeah, Aiden.” Emory’s eyes flash before she turns to Mateo. “Teo, why don’t you join us to even the odds?” My wife gives him a sunny smile. It’s a far cry from the cool smirks that I get from her.

Whatever.

I turn Andromeda, running my hands over her neck, murmuring soothing words to encourage her. She responds by arching her neck and moving swiftly across the field. She’s a good pony. I like them fast and responsive. Luxor is supposed to be both.

What if Emory can’t control him? My stomach rolls.

“Watch her, Tris.” I keep my voice low.

He gives me a surprised look. “You’re worried?”

“She’s not experienced.” I watch her canter Luxor across the field. He’s sleek and fast, as promised, and very much not for an inexperienced player. “She seems fine now, but Mateo told me Luxor is aggressive. He bites other ponies in close quarters. And he’s thrown riders before.”

“Fuck.” Tristan tugs at his chin strap. “Yeah, I’ll watch her.”

The match is fierce. Mateo is right—Emory plays better than I expected, as does Sienna, who hasn’t played in years but who has been riding since she could walk.

Emory’s primary skill seems to be distracting me.

I’m worried about her falling, and every time Luxor lunges forward, I think she’s going to slide to the ground.

I miss two shots because of her, and after an hour of play, I’m sweaty and annoyed. This was a mistake.

Why the hell did I suggest polo?

If I’m honest with myself, I don’t have a lot of hobbies, and I think, though I’d rather die than admit it, that I wanted to impress Emory.

I’m a good polo player. Better than good, actually. Mateo is the only player I know who’s better than I am, and I thought… what? That she’d like me after watching me play? Fool.

I gulp my water and watch Mateo flirt with my wife.

“You’re gonna let him steal your girl?” Sienna asks. I didn’t even notice her ride up.

I shrug, like I’m not bothered by it, and my sister snorts. “What?” I roll my shoulders and take another sip of water. “This will be over one day.”

“And?”

“And he’s her type.”

Sienna rolls her eyes. “He’s every woman’s type.”

I watch him grin at her, and something grinds in my chest. “Not like that,” I say. “Mateo is a good person.”

“You’re a good person.”

I sigh. “Yes. I am. But he’s…a smiler. A regular guy.”

“He’s not regular.” Sienna shakes her head. “He’s a model and an international polo star.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I say dryly, and she shoots me a grin.

“What I mean is, Mateo is nice. He has dinner with his mom every week—I know because he puts it on Instagram. He’s warm and he has tons of friends, and he doesn’t freak out if someone he doesn’t know touches him or if he’s caught in a crowd in public. ”

My sister is staring at me with huge eyes. I’ve said too much. Shit.

“Aiden—”

“It’s fine,” I say roughly. “You asked.” I set the water down.

“I don’t begrudge Emory the flirting. One day, we’ll be divorced.

She’ll remarry. She’d be lucky if it were to a guy like him.

I’d be happy for her.” I adjust the clip on my helmet and ride back onto the field without looking at my sister.

When we resume playing, Amy is out for blood, and so is Mateo. She smacks one in and celebrates with me, raising our fists in the air while Emory stares at us with a funny look on her face. Her eyes cut to mine, then skitter away.

My wife is a liability. She’s sweated through her white shirt, and her red bra is violently apparent through the fabric. Mateo cheers a little too loudly every time she and Sienna score. Meanwhile, every time she sees me, she glares.

I could have had her.

It’s a refrain that grows every time I ride close to her.

I could have had her, and now I never will.

A guy like Mateo will charm her. He’ll smile at her and make her laugh, like he is right now. Her head is thrown back as she nearly spits water out from laughing.

My heart does a double thud in my chest at how pretty and unrestrained she is.

After the third time Emory nearly falls, I turn Andromeda too harshly, and she whinnies her displeasure. What are you going to do? Leap off and save her? Get it together.

I clench my teeth and tap Andromeda into a canter. She might not be the pony I intended to buy, but she has a pleasant, rolling gait. Emory matches me stride for stride. “You’re going to get hurt,” I tell her. My words come out harsh. Emory makes a noise of disagreement and nudges Luxor ahead.

“I’m fine,” she says shortly.

“It’s okay,” Amy calls out, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If you’re not experienced, better to take breaks. I took a ton when I started playing.”

Emory’s face tightens, and she presses her heels into her pony. I nudge Andromeda into Luxor’s path. Luxor shies from the other pony, and my stomach lurches as Emory goes off balance. Her foot slips from the stirrup, and I pull Andromeda up and land on the ground as she rights herself.

“Are you okay?” The blood is so loud in my ears that I can barely hear myself talk.

“No thanks to you.”

I move to grab Luxor’s reins, and he snaps at me. I jerk back.

“Good boy,” Emory tells him.

“Everything all right?” Mateo canters up, looking fresh as a daisy. Playing polo against us is a piece of cake for him. He pulls even with Emory.

She smiles at him. “Everything is fine. Aiden and I were just having some friendly competition.”

On their matching black ponies, with their matching good looks, they look good together.

He gives her an easy smile, and I feel it like a spike in my chest. I step back.

I will never be that man, and I’ve never wanted to be.

Smiles don’t come easily to me, nor should they.

I prefer hard-fought happiness, not fake pleasantry.

“Enough chitchat,” I growl. “Let’s play.” I swing up into Andromeda’s saddle.

“I’m not the one chatting, darling.” Emory’s eyes flash with fire before she slides her foot back into the stirrup.

“You should check his girth. It could have loosened when you slid.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she mutters.

But Mateo slides off his pony and comes around to help her. His hand lands on her calf. She smiles at him.

An annoyed sound comes from me.

Emory can fix her girth herself. She doesn’t need Mateo pawing at her.

Emory’s gaze is on my face. Knock it off, she mouths.

My eyes flick to where Mateo’s hand is on her leg and then back to her face. I control my expression, but not before her mouth parts in realization.

She sees it. Weakness.

Luxor chooses that moment to lunge for me again. Andromeda shies with a sharp whinny.

I back my mount away. I don’t want her getting hurt, and I don’t need my wife seeing the emotions I can barely leash.

Fuck.

This was a mistake. I can feel the eyes on me again. Grandfather’s too, from where he’s watching across the field. I can’t draw a full breath.

I’m failing again. This love match doesn’t look real. I’m a jealous mess, even though I have no right to be, and I can’t get myself under control.

I turn Andromeda more sharply than I should and start to trot across the field.

I could have had her.

And now I never will.

My pulse pounds in my ears so loudly that I ignore the commotion behind me until it’s too late.

I hear shouting. I slow the pony, then turn and canter her back to the group.

Amy is next to Emory, saying something I can’t hear.

I catch a glimpse of Emory’s face. Her full pink lips are set in a line, and her face is pale. Something twists in my chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“She fell,” Amy says. “It’s not safe to have her out here if she can’t control the horse.”

She fell. I scan her for injuries, but don’t see anything. “I agree,” I tell Amy, holding my wife’s gaze.

“Screw you, Aiden.” Emory wheels Luxor around and kicks him into a canter.

“Emory,” I shout. She doesn’t respond. Her hair is loose and streaming in the wind behind her as she pounds down the field and onto the bridle path.

“Go after her.” Sienna appears at my side. She’s out of breath from racing up the field.

“You think?”

“Go,” she urges. “And apologize.”

Before I can question her, I kick Andromeda into a run and chase after my wife.