Layla’s POV
The desert gets quiet at night in a way that makes your thoughts loud.
I parked my car near the old water tower outside town, where the pavement turns to dirt and the sky feels bigger than the world. The moon was full and white, hanging over the desert like a streetlight God forgot to turn off.
Colt was already there, leaning against his bike. Black Harley. Chrome shining. He had his arms crossed over his chest, boots dusty, jaw tight like he’d been waiting a while.
“You came,” he said.
“I said I would.”
The wind pushed my hair into my face. I tucked it behind my ear and walked closer. My heart was beating too fast, and I hated that he could probably hear it.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just needed air.”
“That clubhouse is a damn pressure cooker lately.”
I gave a sma
