I grab my shoes, toss a quick “thanks” over my shoulder like this was just some casual, no-big-deal kind of night. Like he didn’t just rewire my brain last night.
Trouble watches me from the bed, one arm propping himself up.
He doesn’t stop me. Which is good. Exactly what I wanted. Right?
I reach for the door just as my phone buzzes.
Harrison
I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see you tonight.
I freeze.
Shit. I almost forgot about Harrison. He’s still here.
I stare at the text like it might rewrite itself. Out loud, without meaning to, I mutter, “Tonight?”
Behind me, I hear the creak of bedsheets.
“You coming to watch us ride?” Trouble’s voice—warm and raspy. “Your brother always seems to think he’s got a chance to beat me.”
I turn halfway, nearly trip over my own boot. “Oh crap. That’s right.”
My brain’s suddenly juggling too many things—my ex, my brother, Trouble, shirtless in bed with thatface—that too pretty for his own good face. And just like that, I am dangerously close to short-circuiting and crawling back into bed with him.
I force a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Can’t wait. Gotta go.”
Trouble just smirks like he’s the damn poster boy for bad ideas and zero regrets. I yank open the door, then pause—because of course I do.
His voice follows me out, “Wear something cute.”
The door slams behind me before I can even think of a comeback.
Wear something cute? When do I not?
After several hours of being paranoid and keeping an eye out for Harrison through my blinds, I do what any girl does in these situations. Force her daddy to go out into the wild with her.
The smell hits me before we even find our seats—dust,leather, sweat, and whatever unholy thing they serve in those plastic concession trays.
My dad walks beside me, arms crossed like he’s being dragged to his own execution. He’s wearing jeans, a baseball t-shirt probably as old as I am, and the expression of a man who’d rather be doing literally anything else.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say, mostly to break the silence.
“I didn’t have anywhere better to be,” he says with a grunt.
I snort. “You could’ve said no if you didn’t want to be here.”
He shrugs. “I like watching your brother get flung off large animals. Reminds him he’s not as invincible as he thinks.”
We settle into two empty seats behind the chute after grabbing our drinks. We’re close enough to see the riders prepping. My eyes scan the crowd, nerves a-flutter. I just know Harrison is here somewhere. Or maybe by “tonight” he didn’t mean this. Maybe he realized it would be best if he went back to the city?—
“There she is.”
I whip my head around, and it’s him—Harrison, out here in this heat, wearing a tailored button-up. I knew my Harrison radar was going off. My dad stands to shake his hand, but isn’t happy about it.
“Here I am.”
“Great to finally meet you, sir,” Harrison shakes Daddy’s hand.
