Page 42 of Hung Up
“See you later, Pretty Boy.”
15JESSE
LOUISVILLE
it’s not a date
“You’ve been a verygood luck charm for me as of late,” I tell Faith as we stand alone in a secluded hallway not far from the chute.
“I’m sure all the sex really helps,” she responds with a shrug, leaning against the wall.
I tilt my head. “Technically, all the sex I was having before you was making my scores worse.”
“What was the one thing I said I wanted you to stop doing?”
“Calling you Sweetheart?” She shakes her head. “Going down on you if I won’t let you reciprocate?” Faith looks like she’s going to smack me, so I quickly say, “Okay, sorry. I’ll stop mentioning my past escapades.”
“Thank you.” She sighs as she lets her head fall back against the wall. “Can I ask you for a favor?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re asking me?”
“Unfortunately,” she grumbles before she straightens, avoiding eye contact with me. “I need you to give me some space today, but you can’t ask me why.”
“Okay,” I drawl, folding my arms over my chest. “Why not?”
“I just said?—”
“I didn’t ask you why, I asked you why not.” I take a step closer to her, closing the gap between us. “What’s going on, Sweetheart?”
“It’s just that?—”
“Faith,” an unfamiliar male voice calls out, growing louder the closer he gets. “Where did you run off to? That blonde one is done, let's go.”
She sighs loudly before looking up at me with an apologetic, strained smile. “I have to go. I’ll see you out there, Pretty Boy. Good luck.”
Faith slips past me before I can stop her, heading to the end of the hall to emerge into the main hall of the arena. I wait a few seconds before following her, taking a quick scan of my surroundings before stepping into the chaotic throng of riders and workers. My eyes instantly find Faith, and my brows furrow as I see who she’s with.
He’s the same height as she is in her flats—she opted out of the jeans and blouse with her boots that she wore last weekend for an all-red jumpsuit and little black flats—and is sporting a lanyard identical to Faith’s. He’s got a beard similar to mine, and the sides of his head are shaved short with the top longer, with gel keeping it upright.
That hairdo alone screams douche bag to me.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Faith is standing as rigid as I’ve ever seen her before as he gestures wildly with his hands. I see her lips moving before he waves his hand off to the side toward the chute as he interrupts her, and her eyes narrow. I’m unaware that my hands have balled into fists at my side until my palm begins to hurt from my nails digging into them.
Who the hell does he think he is to be talking to her like that?
I’m about to go over there and say something, step in and put this fucker in his place when I hear my name being announced over the loud speaker. Faith’s head turns in my direction, our gazes locking for a moment before she turns her attention back to the man in front of her. She’s pointing toward the arena and takes a step to the side when his hand wraps tightly around her wrist.
I’m moving now, heading in their direction, when Wyatt steps in my path. He wordlessly rests his hands on my shoulders and spins me around, pushing me toward the chute and not giving me any slack to turn around to go back there and give that man a piece of my mind. Approaching the chute, Wyatt smacks me on the back and climbs up, his eye now on the thrashing bull in the entrapment. I pull my glove out of my back pocket and slip it on, taking a deep breath before I climb upward.
Swinging my leg over the top, I brace my hands as the men around me hold the rope and gesture for me to get on. I pulled Ghost Rider for tonight. He’s got a power rating of 90.5 with eighty-seven outs, but he’s one of the few bulls who stays closer to the gates. So, if I can hang on, my score could increase significantly more than any other bull. I slip my hand into the rope and tighten it as much as possible, making sure I can still flex my fingers before I tightly grip the coarse material in my palm. I glance up at the platform to see that Faith isn’t sitting there.
You got this,I tell myself, closing my eyes as I take a deep, steadying breath.She’s still watching you. You got this.
I nod and the door flies open, and Ghost Rider gives me a run for my money. He’s twisting before he leaps, and I lean inwards with him right before he tries to buck me off. I slip slightly but hang on, squeezing my thighs tightly to try and regain my position. I’m not where I want to be on his back, but by some miracle, I hear the buzzer before he can throw me off. Yankingmy hand free of the rope, my breath hitches as he surprises me with another twist just as I’m trying to dismount.
Flying into the ground, my eyes widen as I see nothing but hooves coming straight toward me. Frantically digging my boots into the dirt, I hastily roll away and leap to my knees just as the wranglers flag down his attention and get him out of the arena. I’m breathing heavily as I climb up on shaky legs, barely registering the crowd cheering around me.
That was close, too close.
