Unfortunately for me, small town rodeos are too much like a family reunion to allow for a quick escape. I’m pulled in every direction by people I know. From Jerry, the middle-aged bar regular who always begs me to line dance with him, to my old high school principal. Debbie from the post office corners me to ask if I can catsit while she goes to Vegas—and who am I to say no when she shows me the little visor hat she had made for the tabby? Everybody and their damn dog are here, inconveniently blocking the lone route out of this hellhole.
After barely escaping the clutches of a group of girls I graduated with, I’m nearly home free. I’d run if I thought my coordination was goodenough. As I’m plodding past the row of porta potties and keeping my eye on the exit gate straight ahead, an unpleasant voice sends shivers down my spine.
“Cass… hey.”
My shoulders fall, and I shut my eyes—but only for half a second because it instantly makes the world feel like it’s spinning out of control.
“Hey, Derek.” I turn to face him. Thankfully, he’s without his mistress.
“How are you doing?” He assesses my body with a raised brow. All the words he’s leaving unsaid play on repeat in my mind. Sure, I’ve put on five pounds since we broke up, but the struggle to zip my denim mini skirt was enough of a blow to my ego for one day. I don’t need him to make me feel even worse, and I know it’s taking everything he has to refrain from commenting on my appearance. It drives him batty that I’m mostly okay with being in a size twelve body. I’ll certainly be even more content with my size now that I won’t hear his negative comments all the time.
“Fine. Great, in fact. I’m doing fan-fucking-tastic,” I say sarcastically. “Having fun tonight?”
What I mean is,why the hell are you at a rodeo in my town weeks after making me feel like the biggest idiot on the planet?
“Yeah. Alyssa had never been to a rodeo, so—”
Thanks to years waitressing in my dad’s bar, my customer service voice is flawless and not affected at all by my alcohol consumption. “That’s…super. Great.So glad that, uh, you brought her here. I’m going to go, so…supernice seeing you.”
“Hope you aren’t going home early because I’m here.”
“No. Not at all. I’m not going home. I was coming over to use the bathroom.” I don’t know why I’m lying, or why it continues to spew out of me. “I’m actually here with somebody, too. We’re having a super fun time.”
Why do I keep saying super?Maybe the alcohol is affecting my speech after all.
“Oh? I saw you talking to Red. Don’t tell me you’re withthatguy? Jesus, Cass. Slumming it with the local cowboys? Sheesh... Even for you, that’s fucked up.”
Even for me?
My brain and mouth are no longer working together, and words tumble out before I get the chance to think about them. “You know what? It’s not nearly as fucked up as bringing the girl you cheated with to this rodeo.”
“Cass, I’m just saying—”
“Don’t say another word to me because the cowboy I’m ‘slumming with’ would love an excuse to kick the shit out of you. Have asupernight.”
Instead of continuing on my journey home, I shoulder-check Derek and march back over to the picnic table, ignoring the alarm bells and red alerts firing in my brain. I know the idea forming in my drunk mind is a terrible one. I also know that after a year of putting up with that asshole, I don’t care. I need to dosomethingto expel the rage pulsing in my veins.
He wronged me in a way that made me feel like a fool. I went months before realizing he had a new girlfriend and I’d been relegated to side-chick. But I didn’t scream, cry, throw his shit on the lawn, slash his car tires, or do any of the things my favourite country songs say he deserves. No, I broke up with him civilly, handing over all his belongings with a tight-lipped smile while she watched from the passenger seat of his car.
I don’t want to be the bigger, more mature, emotionally intelligent person anymore. Not tonight. I deserve to make a terrible decision or two for once in my goddamn life.
Shelby and Denny are nowhere to be seen—though I can make an educated guess about where they’ve gone. But Red’s still sitting at the picnic table, downing beer and watching the crappy band play. Honestly, from where I stand, he’s not bad looking. If I didn’t know anything about his personality, I might find him attractive. Fuckable, even. With tousled red-brown hair under his cowboy hat, tattoos covering botharms, bulky muscles earned from hard farm work, faded denim stretched across powerful thighs, and playful, cobalt-blue eyes. It’s just too bad about the rest of him.
My hands slam down on the table, making him jump. I’m not sure at all what my game plan is, only that it’s fueled by alcohol and hatred. And Red is exactly the kind of guy to go along with it. “Offer still stand to piss off my ex?”
“Why? See something you like, Cass?” His eyebrows raise with a cocky grin lighting his stupid face.
“I might’ve, but then you spoke. Now I’m filled with regrets. Where’s Colt or… literally anybody single, attractive, and less annoying than you?” This was a dumb plan. Just because Derek dislikes Red and thinks I’m “slumming it” by hanging out with the cowboys from Wells Ranch, doesn’t mean I should hook up with one to get back at him. What am I even proving by doing that? Admittedly, my logic is lacking. “Y’know… never mind.”
“Don’t know where Colt is. But I’m free to help and know a good way you can shut my mouth up.”
Massaging my temples, I scan the beer garden. As if being personally mocked by God, the singular pole light illuminating the dark dance floor shines directly on Derek and Alyssa. Grabbing the bottle from Red’s hand, I take a long pull. It goes down like water, and I no longer give a single fuck whether my plan makes sense.
“Lose the chew.” I point to the bulge sitting in his bottom lip. “I refuse to kiss anybody with chewing tobacco in their mouth.”
Before I can finish getting the words out, he’s swiping his finger under his lip and flicking the dark brown tobacco onto the ground. “Anything else?”
“Two rules: you don’t say anything stupid and we never speak of this again. Deal?”
