Is this really it? The moment I cross that invisible line I can never uncross? The moment my marriage, my family, my entire identity, forever changes? My heart slams faster, rattling in my chest as I step out of my car.
Then I see him. Leaning against his bike, wind-tousled hair, a soft grin tugging at his lips. Logic, guilt, self-fucking-control—flies out the window. My body moves before my brain catches up. I’m choosing feelings over consequences.
I’m choosing him.
He steps closer, reaching for my hand, and I swear the world shifts underneath me. There are no words. Only tension. And in a split second, that line between us disappears.
I climb onto the bike. He passes me a helmet, secures his own, and the engine rumbles beneath us. I grip his hard abs, my palms burning against his body heat, and my stomach becomes a battlefield. Butterflies. Bumblebees. Every nervous creature imaginable swarming inside me.
It’s terrifying and fucking incredible all at once. And still… I don’t let go.
Dylan turns his head slightly. “Do you trust me?” he yells over the roar of the bike.
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “Should I? Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” His smile deepens. “Hold tight.”
The city blurs into fields, and for the first time in a while, I leave my worries, fears, and expectations behind on the dusty road.
As we slow down, we pull up beside a sprawling countryside stable. Rolling hills with scattered autumn leaves stretch endlessly, and horses graze in open fields. It looks like something out of a movie. How have I never been here before?
“It’s my family’s ranch,” he says, helping me off his bike. “But my dad’s getting older, and my sisters wouldn’t know the first thing about running it. So, I’ve been thinking about selling.”
“Don’t,” I blurt out, taking off my helmet. “This place is magic. I grew up on a farm with horses, goats, cats—you name it. I never even realized how much I missed it… until now.”
His eyes flicker with curiosity. “You ever think about leaving the city?”
I hesitate, taking in the view again. “Not really,” I admit. “I moved a lot as a kid. Nashville was the first place I didn’t have to leave. I guess I needed stability, and it kinda just… stuck.”
Dylan walks toward the fence, and leans against it, watching me. “Is that what you want? To be stuck?”
The question hovers, heavy and confusing as I imagine a life out here. I don’t remember the last time I felt real peace. I miss the girl who found comfort in the quiet countryside, and somehow, he brings her back to life.
His fingers trail over the rough wood, his voice soft and steady. “It's peaceful out here.”
“You read my mind,” I say, smiling, wishing I could be inside his mind.
There’s a stillness out here I haven’t felt in forever. I used to hate the quiet. Hated being alone with my thoughts. But standing here with him, it doesn’t feel so terrible. It feels more like… home.
And I wonder—what if peace is a person?
The thought rattles me. I’d built a life in the city. I’m not about to throw it away. So why can't I shake the feeling that maybe I’ve been wrong?
Dylan nudges me toward the stables. “Ride with me?”
I glance at the horses nearby, admiring their majestic presence. “Ride what?” I blurt, biting my lip.
His smirk deepens. “Me, if you’re lucky.”
My heart jumps.
“My horses, Jenna,” he corrects, teasing.
“I’m not sure,” I mutter, my heartbeat racing. “I’m… a little nervous. Of the horses—and you, maybe even more.”
His smile shifts from teasing to something softer.
“You scare me the hell out of me,” I admit, the words spilling out quickly. “How you make me feel scares me. Being here with you when I know I shouldn’t scares me.”
