The words send a wave of heat low in my belly.
With. Us.
Something has shifted.
It’s undeniable.
Exciting.
And as I stand here surrounded by them, buzzing with anticipation for the night ahead, I realize I have never wanted to be part of anusso badly.
Chapter twenty-five
Jasper
TheBustedBarrelispacked now with bodies shoulder to shoulder, boots sliding across the floorboards, and the band in the corner playing a cover of “Friends in Low Places.” I’d bet half the county’s already squeezed inside. The air smells like spilled beer, cheap cologne, and the makings of a good Friday night.
Abbie’s perched on the barstool next to me, one knee brushing my thigh every so often, probably without her even noticing.
But I fucking notice.
Lincoln, Lawson, and Beau migrated over to the pool table a few minutes ago for a quick game, and even over the music and crowds of people, I can hear them arguing about rules like they haven’t played pool at this damn bar at least once a month since we were teenagers. They invited us over, but Abigail looked more than comfortable in her spot, drinking her second beer, which means I was in no rush to leave her. And I’m not about to pretend and say I didn’t like the way she looked at me when I stayed.
“So,” she asks, chin tilting toward me as she takes another drink. “How’s your season going so far? You’ve gone to two events already, right?”
A small grin pulls at my lips. “Keepin’ tabs on me, Red?”
The way she blushes never fails to send all the blood in my body straight to my dick. “Somethin’ like that.”
“I like that.”
She hums in approval before asking, “You’re one of the best, huh?”
“I’m not gonna lie to ya, I’m good. Real damn good.”
“Humble too, I see?”
“Somethin’ like that,” I shoot back.
She studies me for a moment. “Doesn’t it scare you? Bull riding, I mean? I don’t know much about it, but I do know how dangerous it is. You could die, you know?”
It’s the same speech I’ve heard a thousand times, and I give her the same answer I tell everyone else. “You could die right here in this bar, Abbie. I love being on the back of that bull. It makes me feel alive,free. It’s the same way I feel on the back of a horse. If I’m going to go out someday, why wouldn’t I want to go doing something that makes me feel like that?”
She laughs softly. “Yeah. I think I would,” she replies, then her gaze flicks down to my arms. I feel her looking, like a warm hand dragging slow over my skin. My sleeves are shoved up to my elbows, and she’s zeroed in on the tattoos inked there.
Hell, if that doesn’t light me up inside.
“You starin’ at somethin’, Red?” I ask, knowing damn well I’m grinning at her like a fool.
Her blush deepens, but she doesn’t look away. “Maybe.”
My pulse kicks under her stare. “You wanna know what they are?”
She nods, lips parting, and I turn my arm toward her. “These”—I brush my fingers over the chrysanthemums andpansies woven into a darker background—“match my sister’s. They’re our birth flowers.”
Abigail’s expression softens. “They’re beautiful.” Her hand reaches out but stops mid-air. “Can I… can I touch them?”
I swallow harshly. “Of course.”
