Page 41 of The Hearts We've Broken
“I mean, I don’t think anyone likes losing, but it’s a part of life. Sometimes you have to fall off the bull to get better. If you never fail, then I don’t think you can learn.”
The expression on her face shifted into something curious. “That may have been the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Mikey Tucker.”
“I’m not a complete idiot,” I mumbled.
“I know you’re not.” Her voice was soft, gentle, and her eyes burned into me.
I suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Hey, what’s that?” I pointed toward another hole, and she turned her head, giving me just enough time to slide in front of her and rest my hands on her waist. By the time she looked back at me, my lips were on hers. She kissed me back, but the moment was cut short when she pulled away.
“What was that for? Rule three, remember?” She slid out of my grasp, walking over to her golf ball to take her next shot.
I knew the rule, but I didn’t regret the kiss, even if I did it to get the subject off me. The moment felt a bit toovulnerable for comfort. Did the trick, though, and the game was back on.
We finished all eighteen holes, and Juniper ended up beating me by an embarrassing length. As we left the course, her stomach growled, so I pulled her to the bar for drinks and snacks. We didn’t have anywhere to be today, so it may as well have been five o’clock.
“So…” Juniper stirred her drink.
“So?” I lifted a brow.
“You said I don’t know much about you. Tell me something about you.”
I placed a finger on my lip, tapping it as I thought up something interesting enough about me. “The first time I got on a bull, I got thrown off so hard, I couldn’t get out of bed the next day. But I kept coming back and got better at it to the point that hitting the ground hurt a little less.”
Her eyes widened. “If it hurts, why do you do it?”
“The thrill is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. Yeah, it’s dangerous, but not many people can say they’ve ridden hundreds, hell even thousands, of bulls in their lifetime and lived to tell the tale.”
“Couldn’t you get the same thrill out of a roller coaster, or I don’t know, skydiving?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Pretty sure skydiving and roller coasters both have risks associated with them.”
She threw her arms in the air. “Mechanical bulls, then.”
“You worried about me, Peach?”
Her gaze held mine, frozen in time. But then she whispered, “Yes,” and my heart fluttered in my chest.
“It’s what I love most in the world. It may be dangerous, but I’ve gotta say, it wouldn’t be the worst wayto go. I’d at least know I went out doing something I was passionate about.”
She rolled her lips, changing the subject. “What are your tattoos?”
I looked down at the ink on my arms. I had full sleeves and a hand tattoo. I was surprised she hadn’t noticed the one on my hand and said something about it sooner. It usually got a laugh out of people.
I pointed to each of them, describing what they were. “I got this skeleton in Colorado when I was twenty-three and the hand of cards when I was twenty-six. It’s an ace-high royal flush, the luckiest hand in poker. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra luck on my side.”
“And your hand tattoo? What does that say? Say…when?” She tilted her head, a frown appearing on her face.
“Tombstonereference.” I gave her finger guns, showing off the tattoo fully.
She gave me a blank stare.
“I’m your huckleberry?” I continued, but was met with nothing. “Doc Holliday? Don’t tell me you don’t know…” My voice trailed off when her expression changed into subtle guilt. “Peach,” I whined, drawing out the word.
She shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t watch movies.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
