Page 19 of His Untamed Craving
I stare down at my hands, my throat growing tight as the memory of Wyatt's stormy expression replays in my mind—the hurt and betrayal simmering in his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe I'm too much of a wildfire. I see a goal and just blaze ahead, burning anything in my path to ashes.”
Zane shifts beside me, the old wooden slats creaking beneath his weight. "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," he rumbles. "We've all let our passions run away with us at some point or another, right?"
I glance over at him, offering a wan smile. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point there."
"Besides," he adds, "I'd hardly call what you're doing some selfish, reckless pursuit." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins, giving me a playful nudge with one broad shoulder. "In fact, it’s pretty damn noble if you ask me."
I gratefully return his smile, the knot in my chest easing somewhat.
"Zane's right," Aspen adds. "What you're trying to do here is amazing. And if Wyatt can't see that, or at least be willing to have an open conversation about it, then he's not worth your time."
I bite my lip, considering her words carefully. Because as much as I want to agree, to just cut my losses and move on, a part of me can't seem to let go.
"I don't know, maybe I'm just being naive, but I can't shake the feeling like he and I could've had something incredible if I hadn't screwed the whole thing up first. I just wish I knew what I could do to fix it."
The words are barely out before a deep, rumbling baritone cuts through the tranquil quiet.
"I have an idea."
My breath catches in my throat as I whip my head around to find Wyatt striding across the clearing toward us, that powerful frame radiating an unmistakable sense of determination.
My heart kicks into a thundering cadence as I drink him in—the tousled russet waves, the chiseled slabs of his jaw dusted with scruff, those piercing chocolate-brown eyes that had once seared into mine with such scorching intensity.
"Wyatt." His name emerges in a breathless rasp. "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't answer right away, instead slowing as he approaches our table. Aspen and Zane rise to make their excuses, offering the two of us pointed looks.
"We'll give you kids some privacy," Zane mutters with a wink, guiding Aspen away with an arm around her waist.
I watch them go with a bemused frown before dragging my stare back to Wyatt, who has now come to a stop beside my bench. "I figured you never wanted to see me again after..." My words trail off as the weight of our unresolved conflict hangs heavy between us.
"Yeah, about that." He drags one hand through those unruly waves before meeting my gaze head-on. "I owe you one hell of an apology, Delgado."
My brows lift incredulously. "Wait, what? No, I'm the one who—"
He holds up a hand, silencing my protests. "The way I reacted was way out of line. You were right—we did share something incredible out there. And instead of seeing that, instead of opening myself up to where things could've gone, I shut you down completely." He shakes his head, mouth twisting in a rueful grimace. "I was an asshole. Plain and simple."
I open my mouth to protest, but Wyatt barrels onward, seeming to need to get the rest out now that he's started.
"But you know the worst part?" His eyes find mine, burning with an intensity that roots me in place. "I let my stubbornness blind me to everything you're trying to do here. To the real reason behind all of this."
He reaches out then, cradling my jaw with unexpected tenderness. "You're fighting to change lives. To give kids a shot at finding their way, just like this place did for me all those years ago."
Something warm and bright blooms in my chest as understanding blossoms between us. "That's... that's exactly what I want," I whisper.
Wyatt gives a solemn nod before squaring his shoulders. "Which is why I'm going to make this right. You and me... we're going to merge our callings."
I blink. "Wait, what do you mean?"
Wyatt reaches for my hands, enveloping them in his calloused grip with a gentle squeeze. "I want you to have exclusive access to document my expeditions. No holding back, no boundaries."
My eyes widen at the implication. "Are you serious?"
He nods once, his expression one of steely determination. "Yeah, I'm serious. We can create a premium, subscription-based platform where you share every insane, boundary-demolishing stunt up close." That sensual mouth curves in the barest hint of a smirk. "No cheap internet spectacles—just an elite, authentic experience for those willing to go all-in on the adventure with us."
My thoughts are whirling at a breakneck pace, struggling to keep up with his words even as a profound sense of excitement begins to thrum through me. But there's one lingering concern that gives me pause.
"Okay, and what about..." I trail off, gesturing vaguely around us. "I mean, this is amazing, but you know I can't exactly put down roots anywhere. Not with how much I'm on the move with the van and the vlog and everything."
