The next event starts, and I try to refocus my attention. Every muscle in my body is aware of Grayson beside me, and I’m scared that if I relax, I’ll make a fool of myself by doing something stupid like trying to ask him what the hell happened in the barn. A rider vaults from the chute, and the crowd roars, the sound crashing into me like a cold wave.
Two girls approach, urging each other on as they climb the steps, their focus on me. The younger of the two steps forward, briefly looking back at the other as they hover slightly behind.
“Miss Blake, can I get your autograph?”
I lean forward, reaching for my clutch and praying that I have a pen. “Sure, honey. What’s your name?”
She shuffles on her feet, and if at all possible, her smile stretches wider. “Daisy.”
I scrunch my nose up, twisting my mouth. “No way, that’s my mama’s name.”
Daisy lets out a squeal of delight, turning toward her friend, her smile just as big. I rummage through my purse, coming up empty before a pen appears in my line of vision. Surprise renders me speechless as I look at Grayson, who’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tense. I take the pen as if he might snatch it away at any moment.
I use the napkin Daisy holds out to me and scrawl my signature across it before handing it back to her. “Who’s your friend?” I ask, leaning forward.
“That’s my sister, Tabitha. She’s not as big a fan as I am,” Daisy says, puffing her chest out.
“Hey, I’m telling Mom you lied.” Tabitha holds out her own napkin, and I duck my head to hide my grin. When they’re both armed with their signed napkins, they rush off, excitedly squealing as they race back to the third row.
I shift in my seat, trying not to look at Gray. Of course my body betrays me, seeking him out. His jaw is tight and his brow furrowed. Although he keeps his eyes forward, the drumming of his fingers on his denim-clad thigh tells me he might not be as immune to my presence as I thought.
“Rumor has it Banks is going to return to the arena next year,” Kade shouts to Wyatt, who only raises his brows in return, his focus somewhere in the crowd. If I had to guess, he’s trying to burn a hole into the back of Deacon’s head.
Reed wraps his arm around Gracie, and she snuggles into his shoulder. “You cold?”
She lifts her gaze to his, resting her hand on his chest as she shakes her head before settling back. Is something going on between them? I mentally kick myself for not asking sooner. Sure, I noticed how close they were at the family dinner and the BBQ, but I should have asked Gracie.
I can’t quite make out what Autumn and Olivia are talking about, but they both bolt up as the rider heads for the gate, hooting and hollering just like they used to when we’d come to the rodeo back in high school.
Wyatt stands, stretching his back out. “Y’all want anything from concessions?”
Reed and Kade reply in unison. “Beer, please.”
I clear my throat, praying my words come out strong and clear. “One for me too.”
Grayson stands, and my stomach twists. It feels like I’ve failed a test. “I need to speak to the sponsor rep. I’ll go with you.” His voice is rough and controlled.
I watch as Grayson and Wyatt amble down the stairs before they disappear from view. It’s only then that I allow myself to breathe, the crowd around me falling back into focus.
Gracie moves to sit next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. “You okay?”
Isn’t that the million-dollar question?
Will I ever be okay if seeing him affects me like this? Should I take his advice and leave town, pretend that nothing happened between us? The thought sends a sharp pain through my chest, robbing me of air.
No. I’m staying. I’m done running away.
If Grayson doesn’t want to talk to me or have anything to do with me, that’s fine. But I’m not going anywhere. At least for now. We’ll have no choice but to see each other.
I smile tightly and squeeze Gracie’s hand. “I’m fine.”
Autumn’s gaze burns under my skin, and I dart a look over to her. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.
I give her a lopsided smile to tell her it’s okay. None of what’s happened between me and Grayson is anyone’s fault but our own.
By the time the last ride finishes and the announcer has thanked the sponsors—Wild Heartlands Ranch included—the stands have begun to clear. It’s dark now, the floodlights from the arena blocking out the stars, but I know they’re there. They always are.
I trail behind the last of the Wilde clan, lost in my own thoughts and the lyrics that aren’t quite clear enough to capture but have been hovering on the outskirts of my mind all morning. When we reach the parking lot, the hush that follows the chaos of the rodeo settles around us. Suddenly, the distance we are from town doesn’t just exist, but I feel it as I watch people head for their vehicles.
