Page 108 of The Hearts We've Broken
My fingers weaved through his hair, and I leaned in as his hands cupped my face and our lips brushed.
I wasn’t exactly sure what the future had in store. But if fake dating Mikey Tucker had taught me anything, it was that sometimes the best things in life come unexpectedly.
epilogue
FOUR MONTHS LATER: NATIONAL FINALS RODEO, LAS VEGAS, NV
Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been with us for the past nine days, watching the best cowboys and cowgirls in the world compete for the title of World Champion. Tonight is the night where seven new champions will be crowned!”
I surveyed the crowd in the Thomas & Mack arena. Despite it being a sold-out event, I knew exactly where Juniper would be.
All of the trials, sweat, pain, and tears of this year had led to this moment. My ride tonight would determine whether or not I’d go home with a gold buckle. I could practically taste victory on my tongue. I had it within reach, and there was nothing that would tear it from my grasp.
“Best of luck tonight, Mikey.” Maverick walked up to shake my hand. He was a shoo-in for the worldtitle—and deserving, at that—but the average title would also be between us tonight.
“Thanks, man.” Teasingly nudging him with my elbow, I whispered, “You wouldn’t mind bucking off tonight, would you?”
Maverick laughed at the joke, the sound warming my chest. “Man, you know I’d love to do that, but my agent and sponsors would have my head.”
“I know, I was just messing. May the best bull rider win.”
He tipped his hat as he continued on to chat with some of the other bull riders.
As the rodeo went on, I started to mentally prepare myself and get in the zone, the same routine I’d gone through my entire bull riding career.
Eight seconds. Anything is possible if you can hold on for eight seconds.
I repeated the mantra in my head, letting the world around me fade.
Colter and Reid had roped well, securing a world title for themselves, and Jake ended up placing fourth in the average.
The barrel racing flew by, and when the announcer called out that it was time for the bull riding, I was ready, both mentally and physically, to do whatever it took to win.
Maverick and I were near the end of the section, so I sat down, closing my eyes and letting my breaths slow again.
As each cowboy performed and my ride inched nearer and nearer, the nerves in my stomach swelled more and more. As did the affirmations repeating in my head.
This is it. Whatever it takes to win. You can do it.
Five more riders.
Three more riders.
Maverick’s up. Two more.
When the cowboy immediately before me hopped into the chute, I stood, brushing off my jeans and gathering my gear.
“Up next, we’ve got a bull rider who hails from the great state of Montana. Not only did he have quite the comeback this summer, he’s had one hell of a year. He’s taking on Whiplash tonight! Mikey Tucker!”
I pulled on my helmet as the announcer read off our stats, climbing up onto the chute to mount the bull. I’d seen videos of this one. He was mean, but that was exactly how I liked them. All I’d have to do tonight was hang on for dear life, throw in a little flair, and hope the judges scored me fairly.
Maverick rode before me, so he was there to help. Even though we were competing against each other for the NFR title, I trusted him. He played fair and wouldn’t do anything to endanger me or cause him to catch a fine.
I heated up the rosin on the rope until it was sticky enough on my glove. Maverick pulled my bull rope, and I wrapped it around my hand. Scooting up to my rope, I nodded before tucking my chin and gritting my teeth.
Although the world around me was chaotic—rock music playing over the screaming crowd, bullfighters ready to step in should the ride go awry, dust flying, and fellow bull riders shouting encouragement—I was completely calm. Serene. At peace.
Whatever happened with this ride, I’d be giving it my all, and regardless of what the news and social media said about me, I knew I’d had a damn good career, with plenty more to come.
