Page 55 of Dallas Rivals

“Careful,” I warn, grabbing her gently by the arm and pulling her back. “You never know what could be hiding under there.”

I hand her a pair of work gloves, a helmet, and knee pads.

“Thanks,” she says softly. Her voice is dull, flat—and for a second, I realize how much I miss the feisty version of Miss Saint-Clair.

I want to explore what I felt—what she made me feel.

Yeah, I know I told her that once we stepped out of the barn, everything would go back to normal. But hell… she touched me, and my body didn’t freeze. It reacted. It woke up.

She made me feel a kind of closeness I haven’t felt in years, and now all I can think about is what it would be like to feel it again.

“Cala…” Her sad eyes find mine, waiting, like she’s bracing for me to tell her what to do.

“If this is too hard, I can handle it,” I say, gesturing toward the wreckage—what’s left of her life. “You don’t have to see any of this.”

It’s like someone flipped a switch inside her. She forces a smile and puts on the gloves and helmet I gave her. That fake brightness irritates me a little—especially after what happened yesterday. But if anyone knows what it’s like to shut down and pretend, it’s me.

“Not a chance,” she says. “Let’s get to it. Maybe some of my books survived.”

I doubt it.

We spend the next forty minutes digging through the wreckage, two people picking through the ruins like a pair of strays scavenging for scraps.

Nothing’s salvageable. She stacks broken dishes neatly to one side while I sift through splintered wood and soaked fabric, watching her out of the corner of my eye, trying not to think about how her hand felt on my skin.

“Don’t worry, everything can be replaced,” I tell her, handing her what’s left of a shattered plate.

She gives me a soft, broken smile.

“No… not these. They were my grandmother’s.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“She passed them down to my dad—said they were meant for the day I built a life of my own.”

Her voice trembles just enough to make my chest tighten. “I kept them safe for years. Guess you never realize how much something matters until it’s gone, right?”

I nod slowly, studying her face. Her dark eyes are rimmed with tears, catching the light just enough to make it hard to look away. When she finally lifts her gaze, something hits me square in the chest, sharp and hot, like a spark I didn’t see coming.

I take a step closer before I even know what I’m doing—drawn in by that damn look on her face. I want to taste her again, to see if that fire’s still there. I open my mouth to ask if I can kiss her, but what comes out instead is⁠—

“So… ex-boyfriend, huh?”

Cala blinks, caught off guard. If Kill were here, he’d probably smack me for being such an idiot.

“Yeah,” she says after a pause. “It’s… complicated.”

“So… you two thinking about getting back together?”

I go back to digging through the pile just to give my hands something to do—find a pink bra, drop it fast before she sees it.

Cala freezes completely, then moves away from the wreckage, sinking down onto the grass.

“I don’t know. Should I?”

She’s asking me?

“You’re asking me for advice?” I peel off my gloves and wipe my hands on my jeans.