Page 68 of Danger

Sawyer’s mouth twists. “Then what? who?”

I take a breath. “It’s Danger.”

She stills. “Danger?”

I nod, then force the words out fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“I overheard him saying awful things about me.” My throat tightens. “I thought things were… going somewhere.” I clamp my mouth shut. “Doesn’t matter.”

Why am I even hurt? None of this is real. I’ve known that from the start.

Sawyer exhales hard through her nose, already offended on my behalf. “Okay. First of all—rude.” She plants a hand on her hip. “Second of all, men are trash until proven otherwise.”

I let out a weak laugh.

“Third,” she adds, warming up now, “Danger Stetson is emotionally unavailable, possibly feral, and absolutely not allowed to decide your worth. Maybe he’s spiraling. Maybe he’s got a murder charge. Maybe he’s hiding a body.” She shrugs. “Unclear. But not your problem.”

Despite myself, I snort. “Why are all of those things probably true?”

She shrugs. “Ranch math. It adds up.”

“What would I do without you?” I ask quietly.

Sawyer flicks my forehead. “Perish. Tragically. The sun would dim. I mean, no one could go on.”

That finally gets a real laugh out of me.

“I just need some air,” I say. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Say the word,” she says instantly. “I will come find you.”

I nod, and she squeezes my arm once, gentle, before turning back.

Once I leave the area, I spot a barn with a few horses wandering nearby. I peek inside and no one’s around. The quiet out here is brutal. No traffic. No noise. Just me, the horses, and a sky big enough to make me feel like a tiny little bug.

I stop walking and blow out a breath. I’m tired of pretending tonight. Of being the fake girlfriend. Of wanting him and not being wanted back. Of how, even though I’m in a fake relationship, I’m still letting a man walk all over me.

So, I do what I always do when I start to feel invisible.

I open my dating app.

It panics at my location, like I’ve fallen off the map. So, I drag the pin to the nearest real town and wait for the universe to send me a sign. The first guy who pops up is named Frank. His bio says: Half turtle. Half boyfriend material.

I stare at his blurry bathroom mirror selfie until I snort, because he really does look like a turtle. A full-on, neck-tucked, haunted-eyed turtle.

The laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it, loud and wild in the empty pasture, echoing like I’ve officially lost my mind.

Yeah. This is it. This is my romantic destiny. Me, falling for another Stetson—who happens to be the older brother of the last Stetson I fell for—another cowboy who absolutely does not want me…

And a reptile named Frank.

I’ve really outdone myself this time.

I’m still giggling when I duck behind the main barn. There’s an empty horse stall back here, and I park myself on a bale of hay, phone still open to Frank’s tragic little smirk. He likes murder documentaries, pigeons, and puzzles. I should message him something savage—maybe recommend a good reptilespecialist, or an exorcist—but I just sigh and let my head tip back against the wood.

I’m contemplating if I already hit my peak in romantic prospects when the phone vanishes clean out of my hand.

“What the fuck?”