Page 13 of Knot my First Rodeo

“And you just… do it anyway?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

He studies me for a second, like he knows I’m faking understanding but isn’t calling me out on it.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he says.

“I’m not pretending.”

“Sure.”

I roll my eyes. “I watched videos.”

“That doesn’t mean you get it.”

“It means I get enough.”

He doesn’t argue, just goes back to the dishes, and for some reason, that annoys me more than if he had. I grab another plate to dry, focusing on that instead of the way the quiet is starting to feel heavy.

Something nags at me, a thought that won’t sit still.

My pills.

I freeze for half a second, towel still in my hand. No. I took one earlier, I know I did because it was the last one in the bottle. But—I didn’t see the refills in my bag when I grabbed my Kindle. A slow, creeping unease settles in my chest.

“You okay?” Clint asks, noticing I’ve stopped moving.

“Yeah,” I say automatically, already setting the towel down. “I just—left something upstairs.”

“Alright.”

I don’t wait. Just turn and head for the stairs, trying not to move too fast, even though my heart is starting to pick up.

It’s fine. They’re in my purse. They have to be.

I get to my room and go straight for my bag, dropping to my knees and digging through everything.

Wallet. Brush. Charger.

No bottle.

My stomach drops.

“No, no, no…”

I dump the whole thing out onto the bed, hands moving faster now, tossing things aside, like they’ll magically appear if I look hard enough.

They’re not here.

I know I packed them, I remember putting them in the bag.

So where the hell did they go?

My chest tightens, panic creeping in sharp and fast.

Did they fall out?