Reckless Hearts

by Jessa Wilder

“Didn’t fucking ask for your help,” I snap. “Whatever’s between me and Colt stays between us. Touch him again and you’ll wish a bull stomped your goddamn face in.” Marco backs off fast, hands raised like I’m a live wire. Colt stares at me, breathless, chest rising and falling. “You just defended me?” he says, like he can’t believe it. My pulse hammers in my throat. Shit. Sanity starts to seep back in, leaving me raw and exposed.

“That’s it. Breathe, baby. Come back to me. You’re doing so well. Just like that.” Sight. Dark brown eyes filling my vision. Maverick. His eyes are wide as they search mine, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “You scared me,” he says, his voice breaking around the vowels. “What if you died,” I rasp, my throat raw.

He drops his forehead to mine, trying to reassure me. “I’m okay. Just a broken nose nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

Coupled with Mia’s words, it’s damn near mind-altering. “Everything you’re afraid of could still be true. They could love the sport more. They could say no. But it would still be worth asking. Because not asking? That guarantees you lose.”