Page 69 of Entwined Hearts
I picked at my nails, staring at the paperwork on my desk while nodding. “That at least takes care of one thing.”
“You’ll win this, Savannah,” Levi said, sounding awfully sure.
I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “I wish I had your confidence.” While it objectivelylookedlike an easy win, I knew this hearing was going to only be part of the fight, not the end of it.
21
Weston
Well, it was out there. The world now knew I was retiring and wrapping up my eighteen-year career with a final ride in ten days. It’d only been three days since I told Austin, and it still hadn’t sunk in all the way. I bounced between knowing in my gut it was the right decision and regret mixed with fear.
And that gnawing, crushing pit in my stomach feeling was not something I expected to feel right now as I slid into the chute. It’d been seven weeks since I rode, the longest I’d gone since I was twelve. I expected to feel the same rush of adrenaline, the excitement, the sense of purpose, I felt every time I rode.
But I didn’t.
Now, I just wanted to get off.
That wasn’t an option, though. I had to practice for my final ride. At least this once to get the nerves out. I refused to let my last time on a bull in front of a crowd be anything less than my best.
I still technically had five weeks before I was healed enough to be doing this, but what Matt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. So here I was, a few towns over in Copper Creek at a practicearena, more scared than twelve-year-old me who would’ve sold his soul to get on the back of a bull.
I shook off the unease and nodded. The gate flew open. My heart seized. My bones rattled with each buck. My muscles ached with the strain to hold on. It’d only been seconds, and I was exhausted. Where was the rush? The high that always hit at this point? The pride?
“Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed under my breath as I clung on for dear life, counting the seconds in my head. Three… Four… Five…
I bailed at six seconds, managing a dismount that didn’t land me on my ass. Or worse, my shoulder.
I couldn’t catch my breath, each one harder than the last. “Jesus Christ,” I panted, looking up at the overcast sky. It felt harder to bounce back than any other time before.
And there was the final sign I didn’t know I needed, that it was time to hang it up.
“You good, Mr. Tate?” the kid working the chute asked.
“Weston,” I grunted, taking the water bottle he offered me. “I’m fine. Thanks, kid.”
“That was awesome!” he said, looking at me like I was his version of God. I winced. Normally, that kind of idolization made me proud, but I just wanted to point him in the direction of someone else.
“My balance was off. Leaned too far back. Got off too early,” I murmured, draining half the water.
His smile faltered. “Still. I’ve never seen you ride in person before. Glad I could before you retired. Do you have any advice?”
“Don’t ever let your focus slip,” I said, clapping his shoulder as I went over to the fence. It was common-sense advice, but advice everyone needed to hear. I was proof of what could happen if it wasn’t followed.
A familiar face was propped against the fence, giving me a smirk that got us an ungodly amount of free drinks whiletouring. Clay Blackwood was the actual playboy of PBR that everyone made me out to be, never sticking with the same girl for longer than one night. We’d been friends for years and grew up training together. And with me out of the way, he’d be moving up to the number six slot.
“You don’t look like a man excited for his final ride.”
I huffed a laugh. “Is anyone?” It was heartbreaking. Bittersweet in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Fair enough.” We clapped hands, reaching in for a hug. “How’ve you been?” He texted a few times since the accident to check in, and I was grateful for it.
“Hanging in there best I can. You?”
“You know me, making the most of every day,” he said with a wink that made me sad. I’d miss keeping him in line on tour. “Know what you’re gonna do next yet?”
I pulled my vest off and draped it over the fence. “Was thinking about training. Maybe judging, but don’t know that I want to be on the road anymore.” The thought of being away from Sav for any amount of time after all the years we’d lost already felt like a sucker punch to the gut.
“Why don’t you just do it at that Golden Circle place?”
