“You’re in a mood.”
“I’m fine.”
He grabs my wrist, pressing his two fingers against my pulse as if he’s giving me a human lie detector test.
“Okay.” I yank away from his hold and roll my eyes. “Brantley is going to a strip club after this.”
“Oh. Gross. Those places are nasty.”
I raise a brow. “You’ve been to one?”
“Yeah?”
“Mason!” I jump back in my seat.
“Not for the dancers. Do you know how many calls we get to those places?” He shakes his head.
“I guess not.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near it. They’re full of cheating husbands, drunk fights, and cheap perfume.”
“Well, that’s exactly what I want to hear.” I sigh.
“Sorry. Just tell him not to go.”
“Ha! Right. ’Cause that’s how that works.”
“What? If my girlfriend told me she didn’t want me to do something, I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, but most guys aren’t like that.”
“Well, there’s plenty that are. Maybe he’s not your guy.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, and the conversation ends there when Mason’s phone rings again, leaving me in my thoughts for the time being.
Brantley’s out and about all the time; he’d never cheat on me. I do trust him and know him enough to believe that.
We sit and watch the arena fill up quite a bit. There are these two women in front of us talking to Mason and me, but really, I think they’re just into him. I can tell he’s attracted to onemore than the other. Of course she’s blonde.
* * *
The rodeo starts, the crowd’s noise level rising and falling in volume with each ride. Finally, Brantley’s up. My heart starts racing a little more. No one’s gotten hurt yet and I pray it stays that way.
The bull flies straight out of the gate, bucking and spinning as hard as it possibly can. My eyes fight to watch the clock and him all at the same time. He gets thrown off just past six seconds, almost landing on his feet, and manages to get clear from the bull, running off to the side while they coax the bull back into the pen.
“Not too bad,” Mason says, sitting back in his seat and sipping his drink.
“Yeah,” I mutter and glance at the time on my phone. “Ready to go?”
“For real? You don’t wanna watch a few more?”
“Not really.” I stand and walk out of the seats. I hear him say bye to the women he was talking to and his boots clunk down the bleachers behind me. I decide I can’t just leave without saying bye to Brantley. I want to, to prove a point, to let him know I’m angry, but I know that’s not right. So when we reach the first set of doors, I turn around to Mason.
“Just go out here. I’m gonna go say bye.” I groan.
“Addie.” He grabs my arm, turning me back around.
“What?”
