It’s so fucking childish and juvenile.
But that doesn’t stop me from reaching a sore, gloved hand into the air and catching it. I can hear her laugh through the buzz in my ears, and fuck, I’ve never loved anything more.
32
TILLY
I want to leave.
Rowe’s been finished riding for what feels like hours now, and I’m growing antsy. The women beside me don’t share the same issue. They’re hooting and hollering for the bull riders now getting a dramatic welcome, while I’m considering how much it would hurt if I jumped over the railing. Millie’s screaming so loudly I can feel my ears ringing as the music rises and the crowd shows more interest than every event prior.
I want to roll my eyes. Truly, I’ve been so many of these things in my lifetime that maybe the appeal of bull riding has worn off. Everyone always hypes it up to the point of annoyance when personally, I think it’s lame. There are more interesting things to watch at a rodeo.
Yeah, I’m incredibly biased.
“Try not to look like someone’s got a noose around your neck, Tilly,” Ash says once the crowd’s quieted.
My brother’s leaning past Lacey’s body, because of course he chose to sit beside her. The oblivious turd is clearly crushing onOak Point’s resident sweetheart. There’s not much room for me to talk, though, considering my past with his best friend.
“Stop yanking on it, then,” I tell him.
Millie laughs beside me, and I glance over, catching the possessive, tattooed hand clutching her bare thigh. Her pink jean skirt is high on her legs, but I’m not one to judge there. I could cough too hard and taste my shorts at this rate. Yet somehow, Rowe still refrained from pulling over onto a dirt road and fucking me on the way here.
It wouldn’t have been a romantic first time, but I’d hope he’d know by now that I don’t need one. Twenty years ago, maybe. Now, the only thing I want is to have him any way I can.
Shade strokes Millie’s skin with a thick thumb and cocks a brow at me. “Do you want my pass? I’m pretty sure Rowe meant for you to have it anyway. I just stole it before he could hand it over. You could head down to see him.”
“Woah, was that a genuine offer?” I ask, blinking repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck off, Tilly. You make me seem like some big, bad wolf. I’m a sweetie pie. Ask Millie.”
I choke on a laugh, tightening my grip on the cup of beer Ash brought me a few minutes ago. “You mean the Goldilocks you stole from Grandma?”
“Hey!” Millie gasps in mock outrage. “There was no grandma.”
“Close enough.”
Ash shakes his head at us and takes a swig of his Coke. “You’re going to wind up thrown over the railing, Shade.”
“How much do you think it would hurt to land on the dirt if one did fall from here?” I ask, trying to grab an answer to my earlier metaphorical question.
Lacey tosses a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “It doesn’t look that high. Maybe a twisted ankle.”
“Don’t justify her thirst for my blood, Lace,” Shade pleads.
I tune him out and stare behind the chutes, trying to catch another look at where Rowe’s snuck off to. When he pulled himself over the gate after finishing his ride, I hoped he’d come right up here to us. Clearly, he hasn’t.
My pulse jumps when I see a dirty black hat and then the cowboy beneath it. He’s walking beside the guy I caught manning the horses and their riders behind the chutes earlier. There’s no anger on his face. If anything, he looks bored, and that’s a whole lot better.
Rowe comes further into view a second later, and I scoot forward on my seat, clasping my hands between my knees. The dust and dirt on his clothes make him that much sexier, and fuck, I can see him fidgeting, adrenaline still working its way out of his system. I swallow the excess moisture in my mouth and clench between my legs.
I’ve always wondered what he does to work through the high that he always spoke about feeling after finishing a ride. When the ache hasn’t fully set into his joints, and all he can feel is a buzz in his blood that burns from head to toe. Back when he first started competing like this, he’d sneak off somewhere for hours afterward. My mind ran wild those days, but now . . . now I don’t want to wonder. I want to know.
“I don’t see a ring from here. If you went down now, I bet they’d let you back.”
Every muscle in my body clenches when I hear those words. Snapping my head to the side, I stare at the two women sitting a row ahead of us, far enough to the right that I can’t automatically reach down and pull their hair out.
The one running her mouth has a blonde bob that’s been chopped higher in the back and a tan cowboy hat over it that’s a size too small. Her friend is giggling beside her, all of her attention on the chutes and the men surrounding them. There’s a flower tucked behind her ear and a pair of chunky seafoam-green earrings getting tangled in the thick, wavy length of her calico hair. I don’t punish myself with examining what she’s wearing.
