Not that that was going to happen anymore.
With a sigh, I sunk onto the bed, snuggling up under the blankets as tears streamed down my cheeks. But sleep didn’t come…because my stupid bed sheets smelled like the musky scent of his cologne mixed with tobacco. One night with him, and even my bed couldn’t rid itself of his imprint. He’d left a mark on my soul, a stain on my heart, which might sound dramatic to most people, but it was true.
I didn’t even care if people thought it was insta-love. Or infatuation. It wasn’t. It was more than that. He meant something to me, and my feelings were valid, okay?
In the end, I ended up grabbing my phone and scrolling through Instagram—which led to clicking on his profile. And then his photos and reels. And then I watched like fifty-something of his most noteworthy rides.
Holy God, I was so,so,screwed.
Chapter eighteen
Ode To Bourbon
Hux
Why the hell didwalking away from Quinn give me the same feeling as when the doctors told me I couldn’t ride bulls anymore? Each drunken step I took morphed from anger to regret. But Dad always said I was stubborn as hell. Even if I was wrong, I’d made my bed. Now I had to lay in it.
That kiss though. Fuck, the taste of her still lingered on my lips, her scent still ingrained in my lungs, in my soul. I didn’t think there’d be any erasing her from my mind anytime soon. Maybe ever.
I’d dated my fair share of girls, but I’d never felt such a connection to someone so quick.
I needed another drink. At least I had the—fuck, I’d left the bottle of whiskey. Well damn, I couldn’t go back. One word fromQuinn and I’d spend the rest of the night wrapped up in her. I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye twice.
So on stumbling feet, I aimed myself toward home. Which was a stupid idea, I came to realize, because apparently this drunk, I couldn’t count right, and I kept losing track of how many steps I was on.
I have no idea how long or where the fuck I wandered. I could have checked my phone for the time, but I didn’t care. Not like I had anything to do at home really. I could go paint, I guess, but the desire wasn’t there.
The sudden, familiar smell of the barn and the soft nickering of the horses—no doubt hearing my footfalls and thinking they were getting a late night snack—helped me regain my bearings. I entered the barn and walked the twenty paces to Doc’s stall, unsurprised to find his head hung over the rail as he let out a small huff of air.
“I don’t have shit for you,” I huffed right back, but I pet his muzzle softly before running a hand down his forehead. For a while, I just stood there, petting him. Coming out to the barn, being with the horses had always helped calm me down. They didn’t talk, didn’t ask questions, or give unwanted advice. With the horses, I usually found a level of peace.
But not tonight.
Thoughts of Quinn still plagued me. The feel of her soft skin against mine. Her smell. The lilt of her light, airy voice. Her laugh. Everything about her called to me. She felt so nice. So warm and welcoming. She felt like home.
I hadn’t felt something like that, well, ever.
The sound of bootsscuffing against the dirt and Travis’s god awful guffaw dragged me from sleep. What the hell? Where was I?
The familiar scent of hay and the angry grunts and whinnies from the horses made it obvious enough. Why the hell was I in the barn? Had I passed out in here? What time was it even?
“Well, good mornin’, sleepin’ beauty.” Travis' voice sounded directly above me.
“Fuck you,” I grumbled, slowly standing. Goddamn, I hurt. Every muscle, ever bone, ever goddamn limb. God, I hated getting old. Not that thirty-two was even old, but Ifeltold. Bull riding wasn’t a forgiving sport though. The list of injuries I’d acquired over the years was long and extensive. Not even including my TBI or blindness. “What time is it, even?”
“It’s—”
My alarm rang out, as if it had heard us talking about the time—sharp and loud. Well, that answered that. 5:30. Just like every morning. No wonder the horses were pissed. They wanted breakfast.
“Why were you sleepin’ out here?” Travis asked, his voice light. “I figured you’d be with your girl.”
My girl.
I bit back a curse. Quinn never was mine, nor would she likely ever be now. But it was just as well. I shrugged, not really in the mood to tell him the truth. “I don’t know. Came out here to check on the horses and I must have passed out.” Fuck, my head hurt. Whether it was from the alcohol or the fact I’d slept on the goddamn floor, I didn’t know. Today was going to suck.
“You drank that much?” I didn’t miss the hint of concern in his words. “Things not go good with her?”
Aiming a hard stare his way, I replied, “Don’t ask.”
