Chapter 57
The moment J.D.had called my name, I'd realized he was up to something. I'd figured it out halfway to him, and then we'd kissed, right there in front of everyone. They'd all seen, from the riders to the fans - and certainly the staff and management.
But the show must go on, and so it did. Cletus was cracking his family-friendly jokes, entertaining the masses while the bulls started moving into place. The big screens were filled with highlights of past riders. The dirt was soft and freshly smoothed under my feet, the lights were bright above my head, and the smell of too many people, cheap food, and livestock blended into something almost magical.
"Hey," Jorge said as the three of us grouped up, giving space for everyone else to get into place. "You good with that, Tanner?"
"With what?" I asked, trying to think of the latest problem we were clearly facing.
Which made Isaac grin. "Going to assume that's a yes, since he doesn't have a clue."
"With J.D. kissing you at work," Jorge clarified, lifting a brow to show he was honestly curious.
But I waved him down. "Nope, that's cool. He said he wanted to come out. I told him I did, and that shit?"
"Fucking making it sound like we were sidelined for a sponsor change?" Isaac grumbled, proving he'd picked up on that as well. "Yeah, fuck that. The way I see it, if Sousa has an issue with Tanner being all 'gay' where anyone can see, then it's his own damned fault."
"He's kissed Cody a dozen times after her rides," Jorge pointed out. "The way I see it, if they are ok with one and not the other, then that's a fucking hate crime."
"Well, not a crime," I countered.
"Should be," Isaac said, slapping my shoulder. "Riders are moving into place."
"This should be a new guy," I warned the rest. "He's replacing the rookie that got hurt last event."
"Ah." Jorge nodded. "So, let's move in close, make sure we don't get in his way, and remind these boys why we're the deviants, right?"
"You don't get paid for that unless the fans hear," I reminded him with a grin.
He just shrugged. "Think of this as me getting used to the new term. I mean, did you see the bonuses?"
"Yeah, we're finally getting paid," Isaac agreed.
Not as much as the bull riders, but he wasn't wrong. For the first time, we'd be making enough to live on the road without counting pennies. Jorge could take care of Aubree the way he wanted. And while that was amazing, I kept feeling like there was a catch. Like something bad was going to ruin all of this.
But that was when the announcer took over, making it clear the first rider was strapping in. Together, the three of us moved to the gate for that chute. On the other side, a few cowboys called out to us, but it sounded like good things.
"Move like you haven't had a few weeks off," Jorge called to us.
I nodded to show I heard, but Isaac moved up a bit, since he was currently the point man for our triangle. In front of us, the bull was having a little tantrum. I saw the rider jump onto the rails, waiting until the animal calmed. Then someone grabbed his rope, and the new guy started all over from the beginning.
This time, it seemed to work. The arena fell silent as the fans waited with anticipation. Cletus was still talking, but slower, clearly waiting. The beautiful metallic clank of the gate was all the warning we got.
A massive, pitch-black bull exploded out of the chute. All four of its feet were off the ground, and this thing wasn't playing around. Up on its back, the rider was fighting to stay in place, clearly hanging on for dear life, but his position was good.Damnedgood.
"We have a contender," I said, easing back to make sure this guy had space.
"Which way's he going?" Isaac asked, shuffling to be ready for anything yet staying out of the way.
"He's gonna break left!" Jorge snapped a split second before the bull did just that.
I watched the rider lean, pull himself back into place, and then start spurring. Yeah, he was going to get one hell of a score for this ride. That bull's heels were way up in the air. The snot he was slinging would make some impressive pictures, but that much head movement would travel down the spine, adding difficulty.
And each time the bull kicked out, we adjusted. When it reared up, we gave it room to plunge. On the massive digital clock, the seconds had to be speeding past, but my eyes were locked on this rider. He had this. He was clearly going a full eight.
So I wasn't surprised at all when the buzzer went off, the lights went crazy, and he was still up there, still spurring his heart out.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Jorge called, waving his hands. "You're good!"
