Page 73 of The Playboy's Playbook

After paying for a parking tag, I slowly drive the truck forward and park in an empty spot in the grassy field. I hop out of the truck and walk over to help Laila down. I place my hat on my head as we stand looking at each other for a breath. I pull her hand to my lips and place a kiss on her knuckle.

“And best of all, she’s beautiful.”

Kids are running around, laughing with their friends, begging their parents to buy them more funnel cakes and cotton candy. The announcers’ voices blare over the loudspeakers, competing with the music that’s playing in the background.

The air smells strongly of fresh cut grass and livestock. Guys are dressed in their Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, and hats. Girls are dressed in summer dresses, cowgirl boots, and holding koozies with drinks in them as they snap pictures for their next social media post.

Laila and I walk hand-in-hand through the crowded field to get to the main part of the rodeo. I can feel her tense up when people look at us and start to point and whisper.

I wish we could enjoy our evening without judgmental eyes and not-so-quiet whispers. She doesn’t deserve people to look at her differently or talk about her because she’s with me.

Walking beside her, holding her hand, running my thumb reassuringly over her golden skin – which is glowing in the late summer sun– is perfect. It’s normal. It’s like we’re back in our bubble, safe and sound from the troubles of adulthood.

We finally make our way to the main arena, which is putting it nicely considering it’s just a dirt ring surrounded by wooden fences. Last year, there was a different organization hosting, so for this one, most of everything is outside of the sports complex instead of inside.

I can see why this is a better arrangement, though. It allows for more competitions and for more people without the constraints of the fire marshal rules. The riders are conversing amongst each other, groupies flocking to them, batting their eyelashes for a chance at the cowboys taking them home.

I guide Laila over to a spot high in the bleachers, away from the cameras that are recording the spectacle. I wipe off the seat for her before she lowers herself on the steel. She immediately crosses her legs and wraps her arms around herself. Either her guard is up – rightfully so – or she’s uncomfortable being here.

Or both.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” I offer, trying to ease her mind and mine.

She smiles softly and shakes her head. “I’m okay, thank you.”

I nod and sit next to her, keeping an awkward amount of space between us. Soon, the announcer comes over the PA system and says that the barrel racing is about to begin, sending the crowd into a fit of cheers.

“You ever been to an outdoor rodeo?” I ask, turning my attention back to Laila.

She straightens up a little and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Nope. This is my first one.”

My brows shoot up. “Really?”

She gives me a tentative smile, which is better than the slight grin she was giving me earlier. “Eh, I’m not a big fan of being outside. I don’t like big crowds.”

“So what made you say yes to me?” I ask, partly wanting to know the answer, partly regretting I even asked.

“I wanted to see you again,” she answers so low I almost miss it.

The loud crash of the gate opening signals the start of the barrel racing, but my eyes are trained on Laila, hers on me. The crowd around us is loud, full of excitement, cheering on the rider, but it’s like she and I are in slow motion.

We’re in a crowded space, but it’s just us.

How I want it to be forever.

Chapter Thirty-Six

LAILA

Icouldn’t recall what happened at that rodeo if someone paid me a million dollars. I was lost in Matthew the entire time.

We just sat on the bleachers like a pair of lovesick idiots smiling at each other and not saying a single word. If I were a passerby, I would’ve thought it was cute, but in actuality, we probably looked stupid.

After the rodeo, we walked back to his truck and he drove me to my mom’s house. Instead of going inside, he laid some hoodies he had in his backseat on the cab of the truck and we laid down and stargazed.

Stargazing is a romantic thing between lovers and considering we’ve had no contact for a year, this should be the last thing we should be doing together.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Matthew asks, breaking the tension.

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