Page 94 of The Hearts We've Broken
I scoffed. “All right, in that case then, strike up a fake-dating arrangement with her under the guise that you want to make your ex jealous. You’ll both realize pretty quickly that the feelings you thought were just for show weren’t so pretend.” I caught myself at the end of my sentence andlooked at Nico, who had a smug expression. “I—that’s not what I meant.”
“I think you knowexactlywhat you meant, Junie. You said it yourself. It may have started as fake, but youbothknow you have feelings for each other. Thanks for the tip, though, I’ll keep that in mind.” He winked, heading around the corner to the back office.
Dammit. I walked right into that one.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
mikey
Asteady wind blew through the arena in a small town about forty-five minutes outside of Billings. It was a small rodeo—much smaller than the Fourth of July rodeo in a couple weeks. While some guys might have grumbled about the smaller crowd, I was grateful for it.
I wanted to lie low and keep the attention off myself for a couple weeks—give myself just enough time for people to forget about me and Juniper. That way I could come back swinging at the Home of Champions Rodeo and leave everyone no choice but to talk about my bull riding skills instead. It was a great idea in theory, but I didn’t have high hopes for it in practice.
Travis had tried to talk to me about the situation, but really all he’d done was accuse me of ruining my chances at sponsorships.This is the worst thing you could have done for your image, he’d said.
My head probably wasn’t on straight, but I’d told him if he ever talked to me like that again, he wouldn’t be my agent anymore. He shut up real quick. I ended up callinghim to say I was sorry, that I did appreciate his work, and he’d apologized, too, letting me know he’d be taking care of any media attention that came up.
Luckily, the press had been quiet lately, at least in terms of me and the persona they loved to bring up. I hadn’t tried to replace Juniper by getting a new girl in my bed, so any claims of that would be blatant lies without proof. The guys could attest to that, too, because I’d spent nearly every second I could with them.
Each time we’d gone to Rudy’s for a beer, I’d expected Juniper to be there, but she wasn’t. The idea of her taking different shifts just to avoid me felt like a knife to the heart, but that was what I deserved. A few tourists had come up to me, wanting to take their chances on a one-night romp, but I didn’t give them the time of day.
No one compared to Juniper. I was convinced that no one ever would.
I needed to focus on my ride tonight. Even though I wanted to believe that the competition wasn’t fierce, anything could happen. Bull riding wasn’t like football or hockey where you could predict the outcome based on who you were competing against. That alone was both a blessing and a curse.
After the national anthem played, I stayed behind the bucking chutes to focus and prepare myself for my ride. Normally I was able to let the world around me fade, but every time I closed my eyes, instead of a successful bull ride, the only thing I was able to visualize was Juniper.
A vision of her sitting next to me in my truck flashed through my brain, and my eyes flew open, the roar of the crowd and hooves pounding the dirt filling my ears.
Focus.
I closed my eyes again, the bucking chutes in front of me. In my brain, I straddled the chute gate where my four-legged opponent stood waiting. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my knees onto the bull’s back, but then the scene changed and instead of a fifteen hundred pound beast beneath me, it was Juniper, her hair splayed out on the bed like a halo.
Frustration rippled through me as I opened my eyes once again. The sun beat down on my back and sweat pooled on my forehead, wet strands of hair sticking to my forehead.
Instead of forcing a visualization that clearly wasn’t working, I stood, brushing the dirt off my jeans. Maybe music would help me. I quickly grabbed my headphones from my bag, replacing them with my baseball cap. I slid them over my head and ears then turned on my pre-competition playlist.
This is it.
Heavy bass drums thumped in my ears as an electric guitar played. I shook out my limbs then once again squatted to the ground, letting the world fall to the wayside.
I was on the back of the bull in the chute now, adjusting my rope to my preference. My hand gripped the bull rope and ran my hand up and down it, the pine smell of rosin filling my nostrils. After wrapping the rope around my hand to secure it, I looked to my spotter. My face contorted in confusion as my gaze focused on ice-blue eyes and blonde curls.
Fuck this.
She was everywhere. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t escape her.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.
“It’s the matchup of the night, folks! Taking on Relentless Revenge, we’ve got a cowboy from up the road in Silver Creek, Montana. Put your hands together for Mikey Tucker!”
A feeling of dread settled in my chest the minute I sat on the bull, but I pushed it down, forcing it into the depths of my mind.
The bull thrashed in the chute and the metal rattled as I tried to control my breaths. I worked quickly to secure my hand and the rope, ready to get this over and done with.
Bells from an AC/DC song rang over the speaker as the announcer shouted his encouragement and wound up the crowd. Electric guitar started playing over the loud, deep ringing, and I tucked my chin before I nodded.
I threw my arm up as the gate opened, and the bull entered the arena with an explosive buck. The ride was going well. Even though he was working against me as a fierce competitor, I managed to move my body with him. We flowed together like a powerful river as dust flew up, surrounding us in a hazy cloud. The blinding arena lights overhead seemed to flicker as the bull spun, whirling around like a muscular, beastly tornado.
