Page 74 of Firefly Embers

She said she needed the time to get into the competition headspace, and the quiet would do her some good. He hadn’t been able to take time off to come watch her, but we promised to take lots of pictures and videos.

We were a little confused as to why her fiancé, Tanner, wasn’t making the effort to go with her, but no one dared question it.

Wade made mention of how important it was for a rider to stick to a routine and ritual before a competition. Apparently, they were a devoutly superstitious bunch, and deviating from a routine could throw off their entire ride.

The four-hour plane ride was uneventful, much to my dismay.

Apparently, it was Stella’s first time on a flight, and morning sickness was kicking her ass, so I had ended up holding her hair back as she made good use of the included sick bags.

I shot Wade an apologetic look over the top of Stella’s head as I rubbed gentle circles on her back, which he grumpily accepted. I’d make it up to him later.

After we checked into the hotel, Max and Stella retreated to their room, wanting to call Charlie and Stella’s mom, who she’d recently reconnected with, who had stayed behind in Firefly Cove.

Wade and I quickly changed out of our airplane clothes and made our way out to the strip to find something to eat.

Although both of us were exhausted, and the time change would kick our asses in the morning, we walked hand in hand down the busy sidewalk, taking in the sights. We had been to Vegas previously; I’d come out when Wade competed in his second-to-last NFR at twenty-five.

“What cha’ thinkin’ about?” I asked, noticing the Cheshire grin that had spread across his face.

“Do you remember the last time we came to Vegas?”

“How could I forget, hubby?” I chuckled as I tucked myself into his side.

WADE - 25 YEARS OLD

Winning a buckle at the NFR in Las Vegas was a cowboy’s equivalent of earning a Super Bowl ring. There was no greater accomplishment than being named one of the best in the nation.

With the win came perks: a huge gold buckle you could wear with pride, sponsorship and brand deal opportunities, a huge winnings check, and buckle bunnies galore.

What was better than any other event I’d competed in before? I won the fucking buckle, and the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about was there to see it.

No matter that she wasn’t my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be taking her home at the end of the night, and she’d forever friend-zoned me. She was there, cheering me on in lieu of my family, who hadn’t been able to make it, and that’s all that mattered.

We were both currently drunk off our asses at some nightclub on the strip, and Ray was dancing to obnoxiously loud techno music like we weren’t from the middle of nowhere, Georgia.

We definitely weren’t in our element—me in my cowboy hat, starched Wranglers, pearl snap button-down, and boots, and her in a frilly sundress, her hair in a high ponytail, and white rhinestone boots of her own.

The majority of women here were dressed in skimpy, form-fitting dresses that left nothing to the imagination; then there was Ray, shining bright in the middle of the packed dance floor like the shiny beacon of sunlight she was.

She danced with reckless abandon, moving her hips in a circle to the beat. She was mesmerizing to watch, but I averted my eyes because I wasn’t supposed to be staring at my best friend like she was the most beautiful girl in the place, even if she was.

Catching her attention, I waved her over from where I stood on the edge of the dance floor. The bass thumped as she made her way to me, every man’s eyes watching the subtle sashay of her hips and heart-shaped ass.

I cut my eyes in their direction in warning, but this wasn’t Jack’s back at home, and I wasn’t a threat to them.

“Why don’t we find something a little more our speed?” I shouted over the raging music, hiking my thumb over my shoulder toward the exit. She leaned in closer to hear what I was saying, but I could barely hear myself think, much less have a conversation.

Grabbing her hand, I pulled her off the dance floor to the edge of the bar, where it was marginally quieter. I signaled the bartender for two glasses of water, and he filled two small plastic cups with the soda gun before shoving them in our direction.

Clearly, their priority was to keep people drunk, not hydrated.

I leaned forward, my lips nearly pressed to the shell of Ray’s ear as I repeated the question. “Why don’t we find something a little more our speed?”

She nodded gently, taking my hand and pulling me toward the exit. Once we were outside, the air flooded our lungs with much-needed coolness. We both relished ‌the breath of fresh air as we got our bearings back from the sensory overload we left behind.

“Wow, that place was insane!” Ray shouted, not having quite regained her hearing yet. I chuckled, taking her hand and walking away from the club and down the strip.

I’d seen a honky-tonk bar down that way earlier, and I thought we’d enjoy that more than the earthquake-inducing bass we’d just endured.