Wild Eyes (Rose Hill, #2)
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Read between July 28 - August 3, 2025
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“My hero,” she sighs without even looking up.
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I found home in a broken glass I found home in the words that he gave me She peeks up, catching me watching her. But she doesn’t hide the words. She just grins. “Careful Weston. Your number-one fan is showing.”
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I’m so happy for my girl that I could burst.
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BREAKING NEWS: Skylar Stone is a stone-cold badass who completed her own album and released a banger of a single that everyone loves almost as much Weston Belmont, her number one fan.
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I know he thinks I’ll leave. Leave them all behind for the city lights. With my album recorded, it feels like we’re barreling toward that moment. But the longer I spend here, the more impossible it feels to
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Emmy’s small hand wraps around mine, and her voice cracks when she tells me, “I had a bad dream.” “Hey, hey. That’s okay.” I push up on an elbow and reach forward to swipe a hand over her hair. “We all have bad dreams sometimes.”
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West stirs and throws an arm over me as I lift the covers. “Oh, no.” Emmy’s small hand lands on my forearm. “You probably had a bad dream too. You should stay.” Then she crawls up onto the bed, rolling herself over my body to wedge herself between West and me. “I had a bad dream?” I whisper as she hunkers down. “Yeah. You had a bad dream and came to my dad. He’s the best at making you feel all warm and happy inside.”
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West’s deep chuckle rumbles across the sheets, and I can hear the smile in it. And Emmy is right. I feel warm and happy inside. “Go to sleep, girls. No bad dreams allowed here,” West rasps sleepily as he edges back to make more room.
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“I should go.” West’s arm reaches across Emmy and his big, calloused palm rubs over my shoulder. “Stay.” This is the second time he’s asked me to stay. And so, I do. With watery eyes and warm, happy insides, I stay in bed, listening to them breathe in unison. And the significance of the invite isn’t lost on me.
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“What’s wrong?” West’s voice is downright glacial from across the kitchen, and when I look up at him, his eyes trace the tears on my cheeks like they offend them. “Who made you cry? I’ll fucking⁠—” I hold a hand up and give him a watery smile. “Happy tears” is all I choke out before waving him forward.
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I can’t help but feel so loved in the way he rushes to defend me.
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It never gets old. Him. The way he is—it’s ...
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“Fuck…” His head shakes and I know he must be reading it over again. “Fuck yeah, Sky. That’s my girl.”
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“That’s my fucking girl,” he whoops, and I squeeze him harder. My number-one fan.
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“That’s how you should always feel. God, I’m so proud of you, Sky.”
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I melt so completely that I hope I’m stuck to him forever.
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We haven’t really talked about forever. Me, too afraid to insert myself into his life. Him, too afraid to ask me to stay. Both of us too shit-scared ...
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“I know.” His chin rests on my head so I can feel him nod. “I’ll come back though, okay?” His arms clamp down on me tighter. “You fucking better.” “I promise.”
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“But I also don’t want you stuck here. This is incredible. You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve to soak up every moment. To go after every dream. I want us, but I want that for you more.”
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The truth is, my dreams have changed. “I promised that I’ll be back, and I meant it.” This time, when he nods, he doesn’t say anything. He just holds me. For a long, long time.
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Then you came Set fire to the lies I honed Now I’m hoping
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I found home in a broken glass I found home in the words that he gave me
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I shrug. It’s fucking awful, is what it is. She left a week ago, and I’ve been moping ever since. I know her promise to come back is not a hollow one, but I miss her so much, it hurts.
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And could I settle for having only snippets of time with her? Yes.
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I’ve fallen in love with her.
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“Are you addicted to Skittles?”
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“Want some?” His superior look fades as he reaches for the bag. “No orange ones.” “What? Why?” His brows furrow as he takes the candy. “I know you’re accustomed to getting everything you want, but no orange ones.”
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“Working on something? Does this mean you’re finally going to tell us something about yourself? Because right now, I’m pretty sure you’re a secret porn star.”
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“I am not a porn star. Though I am flattered by the guess.”
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“Tabitha.” If I thought I was stunned before, it’s got nothing on how I feel now. “Like Tabby? Chef Tabby? Bighorn Bistro Tabby? Wants-to-kill-you Tabby?”
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“Yep.” Rhys nods
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God, I’m so in love with her.
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“Sky.” I breathe her name like I need it to survive. “Hi.” Her simple, breathless greeting feels much the same. “Hi.” “I miss you.” “Fuck, girl. Me too.
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“If you needed proof of how much I miss you, there it is. Number-one fan and all that.”
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NOT-SO-BREAKING NEWS: I miss you.
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I felt secure in myself for the first time. Because, for once in my life, I knew where I belonged—what I was going home to.
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When the tires hit the gravel driveway, I sigh and melt back into the town car’s leather seat. Home. Sure, I stayed at a house I own in Los Angeles, but this? This is home.
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Excitement surges in my veins, and a sense of peace wraps itself around me at the prospect. Yes. This is where I want to be.
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It’s only been a week, and I missed him. I’ve never truly missed a person.
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She never likes anyone. But she likes West.
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I nod, lips pinched together, and look back and forth between the bird I love and the man I love. Because I do. How could I not? Did I ever stand a chance? It wasn’t even a choice. It just is.
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Then he’s gone, and West’s eyes bore into mine. “Get over here, fancy face.” He holds one arm out, and within seconds, I close the distance between us. My head on his chest, my arms clamped around his ribs. He grips me, holding me tight against his hard body, and I feel it again. Home. “I never want to leave again.”
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“Then you don’t have to leave. Literally, whatever you want. It’s yours. Me. This place. The future. Just tell me what you want, and I will do everything in my power to give it to you.” I sigh as his words sink in. The future. I very much want that with him.
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My eyes flutter shut, and I inhale his signature smell, the soap, the light pine scent that always permeates the air here in Rose Hill. Home.
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He turns on me and my gaze lands on his baby blues, flashing with need. With love.
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“It felt like I couldn’t breathe when you were gone.”
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“I’ve never felt like that before. It feels like that sometimes when the kids are gone. But you too? It was…” “It’s almost like you’re my number-one fan.” I reach out and caress his forearm to comfort him.
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“No, Skylar.” His eyes snap up to mine. “It’s almost like I love you.” I hiss in a harsh inhale. He couldn’t breathe while I was gone, and I can’t breathe right now. “Almost?” My voice shakes. “There’s no almost. No question, no doubt in my mind. I love you, Skylar Stone. I think I fell that day on a backroad. The first moment I laid eyes on you.”
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I’m not sure anyone has ever loved me like that. With such surety. With no qualifiers. I never have. Until now.
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“Well, thank god for that. Because I’d hate to love you the way I do and not have you do the same.” Then I kiss him.