Page 100 of Hung Up
Yet I can’t help but think that everything happened the way it was meant to.
“With Carson trailing less than one point behind you today, he is more determined than ever to clinch that spot and take home the championship. What is your plan heading into today’s final ride to make sure that you maintain your spot there at the top?”
“I don’t have a plan.”
My brows furrow a little at that. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised to hear that.”
“I don’t need a plan because I already know that I have this in the bag and that I’ll be the one taking that buckle home at the end of the night.”
“You sound quite confident.”
He shrugs. “I have something that Carson doesn’t: someone to win for.”
Goddamn him, making me blush on fucking camera.
“Well, I know I speak for everyone when I say we’re excited to see what you can do out there tonight.” I turn back toward the camera, ignoring the fact that I can still feel the heat in my cheeks. “I’m Faith Thompson from All In Sports News. We’ll see you when we crown a winner.”
The light turns off, and Evyn gives me a thumbs up before pointing the camera at the ground. Jesse is in front of me before I even slide off the stool, his hands cupping my face as he presses a brief peck to my lips. I beam up at him, about to thank him for not completely acknowledging our relationship on camera, when I hear a throat clear behind me. My eyes widen as I swat his hands away from me, leaping to my feet.
Alicia stands next to Rylie, an unreadable expression on her face.
“I didn’t realize you were coming today,” I say, my voice slightly shaky as I rub my hands down the front of my overalls.
“You should know I wasn’t going to miss this,” she states, closing the space between us and surprising me by throwing her arms around me. “I’m proud of you, Faith.” She pulls back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “You earned this, and I’m excited to be here as you see it through. I’ve also come with news.”
My brows shoot up. “What kind of news?”
I see Rylie unable to contain her excitement as Jesse rests a hand on my lower back. Glancing up at him, I see a knowingsmile on his face, and that only makes me more confused. Why does everyone else seem to know what this is but me?
“I spoke to the PBR Association,” Alicia starts, folding her hands together in front of herself. “They want you to come back next year.” My eyes widen and my mouth parts, but what she says next throws me for a loop. “Ryan wants you to join him at the table.”
“Ryan. As in?—”
“Ryan Beauregard, the face of the PBR, yes.”
When I look back up at Jesse, I can see the hope and excitement in his eyes, but I find myself hesitating. Is this really what I want? To commit myself to something for an entire season and risk losing out on other assignments? Could I really do a full five—almost six—months with one sport? If it weren’t for the guys and for Maxine, I don’t know if I would’ve made it these four months, if I’m being completely honest. Could I handle being up top and away from them?
“Can I think about it?”
Alicia looks a little surprised but nods. “I’ll tell him he’ll have an answer by Wednesday. Good luck today, Jesse. I’ll be rooting for you.”
He tips his hat at her before she walks away, Rylie flashing me two thumbs up before running after her. To think that today doesn’t have to be the last day that I do this brings me a little bit of relief. I just don’t genuinely know if sitting behind a desk is really for me.
“Now that that’s done,” Jesse says, slinging an arm around my shoulders and leading me toward the media room. “I have a present for you.”
“I thought I said no more presents,” I grumble despite the smile on my face. I can’t lie, I’ve grown quite fond of him spoiling me—it’s just more fun if I put up a little bit of a fight about it.
He pulls me to a stop outside the door. “Close your eyes.”
I do as he says, standing in the middle of the hallway as workers mill around and the top twenty-five riders—well, twenty-four since Jesse is busy—prepare for their final rides of the season. There’s anticipation in the air that I hadn’t felt earlier, an anxious undercurrent I can feel as if it were my own. This is what the last five months were for. All the blood, sweat, and tears these athletes shed all led to this moment.
Only one can walk away with the belt.
And I pray that it’s my Jesse Hayes taking it home.
I startle slightly at the feel of something being set atop my head, but I somehow manage to keep my eyes from snapping open. A calloused hand brushes my cheek, tucking a piece of hair back behind my ear before soft lips press against the tip of my nose. I’m practically bursting with anticipation, eager to see what it is—or what it looks like, since I already have a sneaking suspicion what it is.
“Okay, open.”
