Page 33 of Hung Up
Setting the note aside, I lift the lid and gasp in surprise. Inside the box are the white boots with blue stitching that I kept looking at while we were at the vendor fair this morning. I can’t stop the smile from overtaking my entire face as I pull them out and sit down, excited to try them on.
Who would have thought there would ever be a day that I, Faith Thompson, would be excited to try on a pair of cowboy boots?
They fit perfectly—note to self to ask him how he knew my size later—and as I walk around the room, I realize they may also be the most comfortable shoe I’ve ever worn in my life. Deciding they don’t exactly match the outfit I’m wearing tonight, I sit down to take them off, reluctantly slipping my feet back into my heels. Grabbing my notepad from my bag, I leave everything else in the room and make my way out to the arena.
The announcer is announcing the first rider as I search for Jesse, but I end up finding Kai instead. He gives me a smile as I approach and slings an arm over my shoulder, pulling me in for a half hug.
“You’re glowing,” he says teasingly. But once his words register, he grabs me by both my shoulders and narrows his eyes at me. “You’re glowing.”
“I just got a very nice gift, that’s all,” I tell him as I try to stop my smile from growing larger than it already is. “Where’s Jesse?”
“Talking to Wyatt.” He gestures lazily and not specifically to his right. “He’s panicking again for whatever reason. I don’t know why. He’s in third right now, so he’s sitting pretty.”
Stepping away, I weave my way through all the riders—some talking with others, some listening to music, and others leaning against a wall with their hat over their eyes—looking for a certain brown hair, green-eyed cowboy. Turning the corner to head to the chute, I finally see him.
And he does not look happy.
His face is red as he gestures wildly, pacing in front of Wyatt, who looks less than enthused. I can’t hear what’s being said and debate whether it’s worth interrupting. Would my presence make it better or worse?
You know what, he’s a big boy. He can figure it out himself.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” I hear Wyatt call just as I had spun on my heel to walk away. I glance up at the ceiling, silently cursing whatever powers that be, before I turn back around, force a smile on my face, and approach. “He’s being irrational.”
“Oh, so nothing new,” I retort, folding my arms once I’m a few feet away. “What makes you think I’ll be any help? He rarely listens to me.”
Wyatt slaps a hand down on my shoulder. “And yet he still seems to listen to you more than me lately. Reel him in, will you?”
“I’m right here,” Jesse snaps, stopping his pacing to glare at us both. “So if you’d quit talking about me like I’m not, that’d be great.”
“Wow,” I whisper so only Wyatt can hear me. “Imagine if we were actually saying something bad about him.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” he murmurs before turning to Jesse. “Get your head in the game, kid.”
Wyatt walks away without another word, giving me a wink as he disappears. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath before cautiously taking a step closer to Jesse. He still has that wild look in his eye as he continues pacing, his hands running through his hair, and I momentarily find myself wondering where his hat is.
Focus, Faith.
“Okay, Pretty Boy,” I say loud enough to get his attention. Jesse stops and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “What’s got your panties in a wad?”
“That’s not funny,” he grumbles. He turns so he can lean with his back against the wall.
“I can’t try to help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” I close the gap between us so there’s only a foot or two of space. “Tell me.”
He huffs loudly, the back of his head hitting the brick wall. “There’s a tear in my hat and there’s no platform next to the chute for you to watch me from. What’s next? Bad news always comes in threes.”
Jesus, is he ever going to have a ride that doesn’t involve some type of crisis beforehand?
“When do you ride?” I ask.
“I’m in the last half.”
“Wait here.”
I turn to leave without a word. It’s a long walk to the elevator to get me to the main floor, and it takes even longer for me to force my way through the crowd to the Resistol stand. However, it doesn’t take long for me to find Jesse’s black hat, minus the family sigil he had branded on the inside, and I don’t even blink twice at the price tag, knowing that some things are just more important. Half an hour later, I’m finally back under the arena, trying to locate Jesse, only to find him exactly where I left him.
“I have a solution,” I announce once I’m in earshot, and his head shoots up. “I can sit in the stands closest to where the platform would’ve been. And I got you a new hat.”
His gaze softens as he sees the hat I’ve extended in his direction, but he doesn’t move to grab it. I close the distance between us and reach up, setting the hat on his head.Thank god it’s a perfect fit.“Look, I know that you riders have a lot of superstitions, but I think it’s time that you put those aside. Only you can control how you ride. It’s up to you not to let certain things get to you and throw off your game. So what’s it going to be, Pretty Boy? Are you going to let these things tank your score, or are you going to get up there and ride that bull?”
