Bad Intentions explodes into the arena like a bomb going off, twisting, spinning, and bucking with vicious intent. Levi stays on, one hand in the air, body moving with the bull’s rhythm. It’s terrifying and beautiful and completely insane.
The crowd is on its feet, screaming. I find myself standing too, heart pounding as I watch Levi hang on for dear life.
Six seconds. Seven.
The bull spins hard, then reverses direction. Levi adjusts, reads the movement, and stays on.
Eight seconds. The buzzer sounds.
“Eighty-seven points!” the announcer shouts. “That’s a qualifying ride!”
The crowd goes wild as Levi dismounts, and the bullfighters move in to distract the bull. He climbs over the fence, pumps his fist in the air, and takes a victory lap around the arena.
Despite everything, I find myself smiling. Actually smiling. Because watching someone succeed at something dangerous and stupid is strangely exhilarating when you’ve spent the last week watching your own life fall apart.
“He’s insane,” I say.
“There’s a little bit of that in each of us.” Calder looks down at me, and something in his expression makes my breath catch. “You’re starting to fit right in.”
Do I want to fit in? Do I have a choice? His world is now my world. The whiskey has dulled some of my emotions, and instead of sinking into those thoughts of despair, I let myself forget why I’m here in the first place.
Then I see her.
Allie.
She’s down near the concession area, her copper hair as bright as fire in the sand and metal surroundings. And beside her, looking every inch the wealthy matriarch, is Emma Porter.
Shit.My heart clenches inside my chest.
“Calder,” I whisper, grabbing his arm. “Allie. And Mrs. Porter.”
His body goes rigid beside me. “Don’t look at them.”
“But—”
“Don’t.” His hand covers mine, squeezing hard enough to make me wince. “If they see you react, if they think something’s wrong, this all falls apart.”
But it’s too late. Allie’s seen us. Her green eyes lock onto mine across the space, and I watch her face transform into shock, then confusion, then something that looks like anger.
She knows. Of course she does. She’d have seen the paper.
Emma says something to her, following Allie’s gaze. For a long moment, both women just stare at us. Then Emma places a hand on Allie’s shoulder, says something sharp, and starts guiding her away.
But not before Allie looks back one more time.
The expression on her face breaks something inside me. She looks betrayed. Hurt. Like I’ve abandoned her for the enemy.
“It’ll be okay,” Calder whispers. “You can talk to her soon, once things die down a bit.”
I nod, but inside I’m screaming. It feels wrong to let her walk away, to let her think that I chose this and that she wasn’t there with me.
The rodeo continues around us—more riders, more events, more cheering. But I barely register any of it. All I can think about is Allie’s face, Emma’s sharp assessment, and the way hope flickered and died in the span of a heartbeat.
Then Calder’s phone buzzes.
He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and goes completely still.
“What?” I ask. “What is it?”
