I stand taller, running my hand over my stubbled jaw. “She’s family,” I reply, as if that explains it all.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been carrying a lot of hurt around with you for a very long time, enough that you might have said no. Or sent your brothers.” Mom stands, heading for the door. She stops on the threshold, turning to face me. “She made you happy once, Gray. Maybe it’s time to open your heart again and give what you had another chance. You’re both older and wiser this time around, after all.” With that, she leaves me standing in the quiet of the kitchen.
Maybe my mom’s right.
I’ve hated myself a little more every day since the BBQ and how I left things with Avery. But now, it’s time I face her and everything we’ve left unsaid, even if it’s only to close that chapter of my life. Still, I can’t quite silence the voice in the back of my mind that hopes for more.
16
AVERY
I inhale through my nose, my chest expanding as the smell of popcorn, dirt, manure, and saddle leather assail my senses. They cling to the warm air, throwing me back in time to when I was sixteen, and we’d spend our summer nights watching cowboys get thrown around, giggling as the riders showboated.
Music blares from the speakers; it’s something country with a hard twang, but I don’t recognize it. The lights are bright but mainly pointed toward the arena, and as we walk in, food stalls line either side of the main concourse.
Gracie grabs my hand and takes off toward the stands. “Come on, Ave, we need a good spot before the bronc riding starts.”
I can’t contain my smile, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. It’s been far too long since I last felt this free. There’s a familiarity to the rodeo that almost makes it easier to forget the ache that’s been sitting on my chest since the BBQ.
The arena’s buzzing, a comfort to the chaos. Everybody’s here; the men—as well as some of the women—are dressed in their best denim and boots, ready to have a good time. But with the summer heat, I’ve opted to pair my boots with a light floral summer dress that stops mid-thigh.
The stands are starting to fill out, but Gracie manages to snag us an empty bleacher, and we spread out into the seats.
Autumn passes out bottles of ice-cold beer before taking a seat next to Olivia at the far end of the bleacher. “Here’s to rodeo night,” she squeals, raising her bottle and tapping it to anyone within reach.
Kade groans, rolling his eyes, but clinks his against hers anyway. “You say that like we won’t be coming back next week, or for the rest of the…”
His words trail off, and he huffs out a breath, handing his beer to Olivia. I follow his line of sight and see Wyatt by the fencing in a heated exchange with Deacon Hart. Reed follows Kade, muttering something under his breath about how he only came for a good time, not to break up a stupid fight.
Wyatt throws his arms wide, stepping closer to Deacon until they are practically chest to chest. I can’t make out what’s being said, but within seconds, Maddie Hart steps between them, pushing Wyatt away as best she can before turning toward her brother. Kade and Reed lead a frustrated Wyatt back to the seats, being sure to keep behind him in case he tries to chase after Deacon. It wouldn’t be the first time. Their rivalry runs deep.
It doesn’t take long for the buzz of excitement to return to the crowd, and with the sun sitting low on the horizon, I savor how normal I feel. Like, maybe being back home was the best thing for me.
The thought has barely left my mind when a fan approaches. Maybe my wishful thinking jinxed me.
“Oh my God, it’s really you. Can we get a picture?”
I shift in my seat, a practiced smile pulling at my mouth. “Hi. Sure, you wanna do it down by the fence?”
Her eyes widen like she didn’t expect me to agree. “If that’s okay? My mom’s in the third row.”
Standing, I straighten my dress and follow her down the steps, asking for her name and if she’s ever been to the rodeo. I pose for pictures with ease, chatting with some of my fans and reminiscing about old times before the fame. It feels different from when I get approached in Nashville. It’s calmer, and there’s less pressure to be anything but myself.
There isn’t time to linger on the thought though, because the show kicks off with barrel racing, and I head back to my seat. In the arena, there’s a blur of dust and hooves to the soundtrack of the crowd cheering. The energy is all-consuming and doesn’t leave space to think of anything other than what is taking place in front of us.
At least until I feel him.
Grayson.
Something in the air shifts; just enough to set my body on alert and raise the hairs on my arms. I feel his presence like a storm quietly rolling in, filled with pressure.
I glance sideways, my need to seek him out stronger than my will to ignore him. He’s climbing the steps, his Stetson pulled low and his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, revealing the corded muscles in his forearms.
When he reaches our row, he nods to his brothers before taking the only empty seat. The one next to me. I force my attention back to the arena, my heart pounding in my chest, so loud I’m certain he can hear it.
Neither of us speaks, and he doesn’t acknowledge me. Given how he left me in the barn, it shouldn’t surprise me. But I’m hyperaware of him. I can feel his body heat like I’m standing next to the sun. He smells like an intoxicating mix of cedar wood, dust, and warmth; like home and heartbreak wrapped in a bow.
We’re close enough to touch, and once, that would have been all it took to set us off. There was never patience or boundaries between us; we were reckless, obsessed, and completely wrapped up in each other from the time we turned fourteen. But we’re not those kids anymore. I don’t even think he likes me now, not after the way he left me in the barn. My Grayson would’ve never done that.
