“Sure as hell have. I’ll catch you later.”
Riley nodded as Gabe walked away, his gaze falling back on Wildfire.
Her beautiful hazel eyes were trained on him. Not narrowed, but carefully neutral. It was her poker face. It didn’t give anything away. His girl was tough, and she didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, so he was used to seeing that guarded look on her face.
He just wasn’t used to it being directed at him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.
Something in his gut clenched. She really didn’t want him here.
He’d been traveling nonstop for more than twenty-two hours to get back to Oak Creek, convincing himself the entire way that the breakup hadn’t really meant that she’d wanted their relationship to end. That it was some kind of message on her part.
Maybe she’d been trying to tell him that she needed more from him—more face time, more calls, more something—but didn’t want to come across as clingy or needy. That would definitely be something Wildfire would do.
They’d always agreed to tell each other if the distance was becoming too much, that they would figure out a new plan if needed, where his schedule wouldn’t be such a weight. They’d been committed to each other from the beginning, to making it work no matter what.
He’d flown her out to places to stay with him when she could. They’d met for romantic weekends all over the world when her own nursing career had made an extended stay too difficult. He showed up in Oak Creek every chance he got. They had video chatting and sexting down to a science—every single day, without fail, for three years they’d talked to each other in some way.
He refused to accept that what they’d built together could just fall apart without any warning at all.
He’d hoped beyond all hope that when he arrived here she would be happy to see him.
She wasn’t.
“I’m racing. That’s why I’m here.” That hadn’t been the plan, but it could become the plan now.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said again. “You’re not on the registration list. The race filled up three months ago, and I know you haven’t registered.”
He let his backpack drop from his hand to the ground and narrowed his eyes. Now he was starting to get a little irritated.
“I don’t have to be on any list. It’s one of the perks of being a past winner. You can show up for the race any year and you’re guaranteed entry.”
Now her eyes narrowed. No doubt she’d be checking to see if that rule was actually true.
Let her check; it was.
“What about Sri Lanka? I thought you weren’t coming back for another few weeks or…at all.”
“Like I said, I made a detour.”
People were starting to come out to get a look at Gabe’s devious obstacle course. The Linear Tactical office was handling athlete check-in, so it made sense for them to see it before heading off to where they’d camp tonight.
But he didn’t pay attention to them at all. His eyes stayed pinned to Riley’s.
All he wanted to do was cross over to her and yank her to him. Shake her. Kiss her. Both.
Get her to tell him what the hell was going on and demand she explain how she could cut him out of her life with such surgical precision.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You shouldn’t have come here, Riley.”
Goddammit. He was getting fucking sick of her saying that. “I don’t need your permission to do anything anymore, now do I, Riley?” He spat out her name the way she had his.
More and more people were starting to mill around the roped-off obstacle course. Some of them were competitors, but some of them were their friends from Linear Tactical. The fact that the two of them were having a standoff was going to be pretty obvious to everyone.
She stepped closer. He knew it was for privacy rather than a desire to be close to him, but his body didn’t care. His body responded to hers the way it had from the very beginning: with complete awareness.
“I want you to leave,” she hissed out.
“Too fucking bad, Wildfire. I’m not going anywhere. Now do you want to finish this conversation out here in public, or do you want to find somewhere private where we can talk? Because we are going to talk.”
Her teeth gritted, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t bluffing. If she wanted to fight out here, he would do it.
But he was going to get some answers.
She jerked her thumb toward the huge warehouse to her right. “Linear training facility. I’ll give you ten minutes. And then you’ve got to go.”
She looked almost scared.
Screw the Linear training building. Screw all the people around. He needed to know what was going on. Now.
He took a step toward her, but she sidestepped him before he could touch her.
“Hey, Phoenix,” Bo Gonzales called out from a few yards over. “Didn’t think you were going to make it this year.”
He glanced over at the other man. “Never a hardship to show up and beat you, Bo.”
Bo’s lips pressed together as the other people around chuckled.
“Inside,” Wildfire whispered as she slid past him. His body tightened in a primal way at her very scent. It took everything he had not to grab her and pull her to him.
He let her go.
But he wouldn’t for long.
Riley rushed away without looking back at him, heart pounding in her chest. What the hell was he doing here?
Her hands shook and her legs felt weak, but it had nothing to do with MS.
And everything to do with how Boy Riley had always affected her.
She’d had to physically stop herself from touching him when he’d come close. God, all she’d wanted to do was reach out and touch the back of his head, run her thumb across his temple. That was how they’d greeted each other for years now, since sometimes more overt public displays of affection weren’t appropriate.
The “hey, you,” they called it.
She looked down at the fingers that had so wanted to touch him. The same fingers that had first given her the indication that she had some sort of problem a few months ago. The tingling and numbness were early signs of MS. She’d ignored them for as long as she could, her brain refusing to accept what could be happening, until other symptoms had also appeared.
She beelined it to the training warehouse. Nothing had changed in the situation with Riley. She had to convince him to leave, and she didn’t want to do that in front of an audience, especially since she was afraid she might have a complete breakdown while doing it.
She walked inside the huge, empty building. Nobody would be using it today as everyone prepared for the race. The Linear guys used this space for all sorts of training, and Riley had been in here numerous times, so she knew where the lighting switches were. She flipped on the bare minimum, keeping the warehouse dim.
She and Riley wouldn’t be in here long enough to need more than that.
She needed to be calm, but firm. Just convince him to go, not stick around for the race. He didn’t really want to be a part of Wild Wyoming—hadn’t ever talked about racing it again.
He was here because of her.
She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm herself as much as possible. She just needed to convince him it was in both of their best interests to move along.