My boots aren’t made for walkin’ they’re made to run . . .

Most like to call me emotionally absent. I’d like to think I’m just smart. Heartache is something I won’t have twice. Burn me once, shame on you, but burn me twice, shame on me. Love destroys a person. I decided early on emotional attachments were something I needed to steer clear of. Hookin’ up—that’s something I can do.

I was raised by the toughest, the emotionally shut off. I was raised by cowboys. Ranch hands and Daddy taught me everything I know.

Since I was old enough to walk I’ve been one of the boys. I can rope and ride with the best of ‘em. I know how to work by the sweat of my brow. I’ve been drinking grown men under the table since I was sixteen. I can flirt my way into a man’s bed with ease. And I push away like a pro. But let him look at me the way he does and nothing makes sense.

Fisher Austin—the college quarterback I met at a Halloween frat party. He tried to kiss me. Football players are off limits. My own personal rule. But every turn he’s there. Mutual friends make staying away difficult. He makes me question things. And that’s something I hate.

Finals week—home free. Three weeks. Daddy’s ranch. A summer that would change everything.