He’s harder than he used to be. No longer mean, but cruel instead. His gaze is sharp, angry as it snares mine, keeping me trapped in place. His jaw is wide and scruffy, like he hasn’t bothered to shave in weeks but still trims the beard from time to time. The lips that pull back into a scowl are plump, a deep pink colour. Andshit, there are so many tattoos on his neck alone. They disappear beneath the collar of his shirt, and I’d bet far past it.
His jaw is so tight I can see from here when he grits it and grips the rope handed to him. Without looking away from me, he lowers himself into the horse’s saddle and adjusts his grip on the rope. It’s the same as when we were younger, only this time, there’s no fear in his eyes. The minuscule flame of it I’d see at these shows back then has been snuffed out. I’m not sure if it was because of the repeated pain of this sport or the oozing confidence he seems to have now.
I hear his name called out across the arena and steal a small inhale, teasing my lungs. Rowe’s nostrils flare before he looks away from me and nods at the cowboy at the gate. It all happens so fast, I don’t have time to do anything but watch in tense silence.
The horse takes off, kicking its legs the moment it’s free of the chute. The crowd screams and cheers louder than they have during the other events thus far when Rowe’s body goes flying up out of the saddle for half of a second before settling back into it. His boots sweep down the horse’s front with every buck, and I almost find myself lost in time watching him control the horse in a way that should be unnatural in this setting. With a horse like the one beneath him bucking like a maniac, he should have been flat on his back in the dirt already.
He isn’t, though.
The eight seconds pass, and he uses the saddle of the cowboy now riding alongside him to haul himself off the bucking horse. He drops to his feet then, steady despite the shooting pain that I know he has to be feeling in his thighs. I lean forward, my ass almost off the metal seat as I watch him walk to where his hat flew off a beat ago and pick it up.
The buzzed head of light brown hair gets covered with the hat instantly before he starts toward the exit. His chaps are the same colour as his shirt and boots but have deep plum accents that I know match the colour of the Painted Sky logo. It’s the same as the patch on his vest and the branding stamped onto the inside of the arena.
Rowe has to feel me watching him. I’m doing nothing to hide it now, almost like a tiny part of me wants him to look my way again.
I get what I want a second later. Stopping directly beneath where I’m sitting, he glances up. The muscles between my brows twitch when that once soft, grey gaze fills with a storm so violent it hurts to look at. My heart thrashes, old feelings I’ve kept buried deep inside fighting against this new hatred that he’s flashing me.
It’s more intense this close. I blink quickly, as if maybe his anger is a mirage. Only, it’s not, and the longer we stare at each other, the harder it is for me to look away. I think he knows that, too, because as quickly as he looked at me, he’s turning his attention to one of the women sitting along the edge of the arena.
She shouts something I can’t pick up, shuffling closer to the railing, before he hands her his hat. His anger flips off as if it was never there to begin with, and I grit my teeth together. The woman takes the hat and dumps it onto her head. That’s all it takes for me to stand again, this time not giving my body a chance to argue.
“Okay, sure, we’re leaving now,” Lacey says, following me quickly when I start to storm past the other people in our row.
I take the steps down quickly, avoiding looking at where I know that asshole has to be standing there watching now. My pulse thumps in my ears, my skin hot with rage as I fan the hem of my shirt, trying to get some cool air on my damp stomach. The shorts I’m wearing are so damn tiny they crawl up my ass with my quick pace, and I’m too far past caring to adjust them.
“Tilly! Wait up,” Millie calls, voice slightly breathless.
Lacey hums in agreement before asking, “What the hell was that about?”
That’s a great question. ConsideringI’mthe one who has the right to be pissed athim, not the other way around. I’ve been waiting all this time to finally get the chance to ream him out for what he said to me in his letter and the way my heart broke after.
Millie reaches me first, her high heels not slowing her down. She blows out a breath and pulls her hair over her shoulder to expose her neck.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I pin my gaze on the parking lot in front of us and shake my head. “I stopped talking about Rowe a long time ago.”
“He won’t go home with her,” Lacey says, falling in line on my other side. “I don’t think he’s been with anyone in years.”
Stopping, I turn to face her. “I don’t care. He’s not my fucking business. If he wants to fuck a bunny, let him. Maybe it’ll loosen him up a bit.”
“I know how you used to feel?—”
“Don’t,” I bark, fisting the material sticking to my stomach. “That was a long time ago. I don’t give a shit about him anymore. Let it go.”
Hurt flicks across her expression as she nods. I swallow past the swell of guilt and try to drain some of my anger.
“Whatever I felt for him died after he went to prison, Lacey. I moved on. Got married. That back there was nothing more than Rowe being Rowe. Okay?” I soften my tone as much as I can, hoping it’s enough to fix the damage I’ve just done.
Lacey flashes me a half smile and grabs my hand, squeezing once. “Okay. Consider the topic dropped.”
“Thank you.”
“I still say we go to a bar,” Millie puts in, using the key fob in her hand to unlock the doors to Shade’s car.
It’s parked a few feet ahead of us, sandwiched between one lifted truck with rust all across the tailgate and another that looks like it’s been off the pavement a day in its life. I nod at her and slow my pace until I’m a bit behind the two of them, my lingering rage too strong to ignore just yet.
“Yeah, let’s do that. You guys get in and get the A/C on. I’ll be right there,” I say, already searching the parking lot for a very specific truck.
