5. Griff
five
Griff
“ T his is gonna be so weird without Jackson and Hunter. I mean, you know you’re my buddy, but it’s like we’re kids on our first road trip without Mom and Dad, you know?”
Jamieson, who can’t stay quiet if his life depended on it—or stop eating—grins at me from the passenger seat of his truck. I’m only driving because he drives a vehicle like he rides a bull: hang on tight and let’s see where this takes us . That’s not exactly joyful for a passenger.
“It will be different for sure. I’ll miss having them around.”
Not that we won’t see them. Jackson is just dialing back the number of rodeos he does this year. He’s not quitting. Since Hunter is his partner in the ring, he’s also hanging back. I’m happy for my friend who finally found love and is easing into a new career with a hydroponic gardening business and all the other projects he and Riley have on the go, but I’ll miss Jackson’s steady presence on the road.
Especially since I’ll no longer have a buffer between me and Jamieson. Jackson is the only one who knows I intended to quit the life of being a rodeo bullfighter. When Jackson announced his reduced schedule, I knew what it meant.
Jamieson would lean on me even more .
There was no way I could go through with my original plan and do my masters in psychology now. As much as it hurts to always be so close to him but never have him, I’d never be able to leave Jamieson like that. Not with everything we’ve been through.
So here I am again, dreading what lies ahead for the next few months. Still in love with my best friend like I have been since we met in college all those years ago.
“Oh! I was thinking—”
“That’s never a good idea, Jamie.” I love saying that just to see him scrunch his eyebrows at me.
“Rude.” He tosses a cracker at me, and I laugh when it sails in front of me and hits the window. He keeps eating crackers from the box, forgetting my teasing, and continues. “I was thinking if you’re up to it, maybe we could do some longer trips this summer? We always had to rush back because of Hunter’s ranch or something Jackson has going on, but since we’re both younger than them and this is our job…maybe we could slow it down?”
Jamieson has never been one to slow anything down. He’s always a rush here and rush there kind of guy. Hurry and wait, so this takes me by surprise.
“What did you have in mind?”
He shakes the empty cracker box and frowns.
“When we go to the rodeo in Manitoba, it’s close to the Ontario border. I looked at the schedule and I might like to explore Ontario for a few days before coming back home and stopping at different rodeos on the way back. Only if you want to, though.”
The truck tires hum along the pavement as I roll around the scenarios in my head. Extra days with Jamieson doing something that might feel like we’re a couple is probably not the best idea. But I’ve never been to Ontario as a tourist either. From the corner of my eye, I can see Jamieson doing that thing he does when he’s anxious. He alternates chewing his top and bottom lip while nodding his head like a bobble head on the bumpiest side road.
“I’m not opposed. I’d need to plan for it, of course. Financially.”
Not that it will cost buckets. Knowing Jamieson, he’ll want to take the camper and go to some kind of pretty park to hike. Which actually sounds nice. We’re used to sleeping in a camper together and I’ve never taken a real vacation either. Ever. Maybe I can handle this one last time before I tell him I’m quitting rodeo and getting serious about pursuing my education again.
“Oh, for sure.” His smile damn near blinds me and I have to remind my brain it’s not a lover’s smile. It’s a happy best friend and nothing more. “Actually, part of the reason I’m asking is that there’s a bull riding event near the town where I got my tattoo. Remember when we did that extra leg to go to the Big Money Bulls event last year? I saw the shop, and he had an opening, so I did it then.”
“I remember. You whined about how much it hurt after.”
“It did!” Jamieson mock-pouts before smacking my arm. “Oh! We’re already at the truck stop. I might grab an extra burger for the road. Do you want one?”
“How do you not weigh as much as a bull? I swear to god, I don’t know where you put all the food you eat.”
Jamieson ignores me as I pull into the busy truck stop with our camper and find a spot near the back next to all the transports.
“Anyway, the tattoo guy’s name is Marko, said he knew a place we could stay if we ever came back close and wanted to. His boyfriend lives on a ranch or something. ”
“Well, that’s nice of him. No hotel bills would be nice.”
“Nope. He said we’d just need to worry about food, and the place is ours for as long as we want.”
Even though my brain shouts no, my heart can’t get on the same train. It’s hard to say no to Jamieson. Especially when he seems so excited about it.
“It sounds great, Jamie. Let’s do it!”
When my best friend whoops with excitement and beams that smile back at me, the one with full dimples that makes my skin tingle, I know I’m not getting out of this summer with my heart intact.
“Hey, Griff! Good to see ya!”
Mitchell, one of the longest-serving bullfighters on the circuit, smacks my shoulder in greeting.
“Hey Mitch! They let you back here again, did they? I thought you were gonna quit.”
He snorts. “If I do that, they might be forced to offer your grouchy ass more rodeos. I can’t let that happen.”
“Always a comedian, aren’t you?”
Mitch laughs as he sits beside me and tapes his ankles. “Gotta keep it light in here, sunshine. So, how’re things? I heard Jackson is partially retired. Without him and Hunter, is it just you and Jamieson from Kissing Ridge now?”
“Yep. There’s a new crop of youngsters coming up soon, though. That’s something Jackson and Hunter are working on, too. Kind of like a rodeo skills camp or something.”
“That’s so, Jackson.” Mitch shakes his head with a fond smile. “So, you’re the only one left to keep Jamieson in line? You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Heh, yeah, but I’ve been doing it for years. Ever since we were na?ve university kids. I’m used to it.”
Which is true. Ever since we met at rodeo practice and he took me for a beer after, I’ve been following Jamieson like a shadow. From keeping him safe at the bar to being his fake emergency call when he had to get out of a bad date, I’ve been there.
Without Hunter to follow him to the bar, someone needs to monitor him and tell him when to stop singing sea shanties. The guy seriously can’t read the room while singing. Which means it’s up to me. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.
Mitch tosses his tape into a duffle bag and stands with a slap to his thighs. “Well, see you out there, sunshine.”
Mitch has always been a role model to me. We both put ourselves into the paths of dangerous bulls to keep the riders safe as a job with zero hesitation. While most of us, I admit, are a little unhinged most days, Mitch has always been steady. He’s a guy I could picture at a desk job. Mitch is likeable and always put together, right down to his pressed button-up shirts. He says he loves this life, though, and I see it every time we work at an event together .
It took me a few years to be truthful to myself and admit that I wasn’t always happy being a bullfighter. Yes, it takes a skill that I seem to have, but knowing the way Jamieson is and not trusting anyone else to keep him safe, I accepted the offer to be a regular on the rodeo circuit with him. It’s easy enough to make sure I work the same rodeos as he competes in. For the few that I’m not working, I still go with him and give him my pre-ride report.
It keeps him calm and performing his best while he rides, and I sleep better, knowing he’s safe. I’d call that a win-win.
The music pounds through the ground as the announcers hype up the crowd for the bull riders. Jamieson already went through his pre-ride routine, and now I do mine.
It’s nothing as intricate as his. I simply take a moment to ask the universe to keep us all safe tonight, and I pat the scar on my calf to remind me how close I came to losing Jamieson.
Nothing intricate. No big chants or anything.
Just gratitude.
And an extra wish for Jamieson.
I’m exhausted and pissed off.
Every bull rider but one so far has been an asshole. Who stays in the ring and plays to the crowd just steps away from an angry bull who would stomp you into the ground without a second thought? Have some damn thought of your safety, for fuck’s sake.
My throat burns from yelling at the assholes while almost taking a hoof to the head. Thankfully, there are only two more riders to go tonight, and Jamieson is up next.
My heart always lodges in my throat when I watch him in the bucking chute. His six-foot-two frame should never ride a bull with such grace, but that’s Jamieson for you. He always seems to do the unexpected.
He drew a solid bull. A strong bucker and if Jamieson keeps his form, they should score high and end in the money. His head nods, and the chute doors open. His bull doesn’t stray from its usual pattern, and he looks comfortable out there. I think he might even be smiling.
The buzzer sounds for his eight seconds, and I spring into action, waiting for his dismount or to lure the bull away. He hits the ground and stumble-runs towards me as Mitch draws the bull’s attention to the exit chute.
“All clear, Jamie.”
Jamieson immediately stops running and bends to brace his hands on his thighs.
“Thanks, Griff. Great ride, huh?”
Jamison sags, and I grip his arm tighter as I lead him over to the exit.
“Yeah. Should be a good score. You okay?”
He nods. “I shouldn’t have skipped my pre-ride snack. Just a little woozy.”
“Jamie,” I practically growl his name. “The one time you need to eat, and you don’t. You can’t be crashing while on a bull! ”
Jamieson eats constantly, but he needs to eat before he rides. His metabolism is one I’ll never understand because the adrenaline of an eight-second ride is enough to make him lightheaded. He learned that early, and we always make sure he eats something light before he warms up.
Soft brown eyes stare at me through the cage of his helmet.
“I know, Griff. But you’re in the ring, and I know you’ll keep me safe when I fuck up. I’ll go have a snack now.”
Then the fucker slips through the gates and into the back. His score of 88 booms from the speakers in the announcer’s voice, and he’s in the lead. After the last rider has a great ride and bumps Jamieson into the second spot, he’s the first to congratulate the winner after the event.
I listen from the bench where I unwrap all the tape from my ankles.
“You’re always so smooth out there, Jamieson. I don’t know what it is about you, but you’ve just got it.” The other bull rider, Cody, playfully punches Jamieson in the shoulder. “What are you doing after? Do you want to get a beer?”
My hands shake as I keep my head down and focus on my task. Here it comes.
“We’re always at the bar after. I’ll see you there.” Jamieson can’t help being friendly. It’s just the way he is, but Cody isn’t looking for a group drink.
Cody hesitates. “Oh, yeah, of course. Maybe I’ll buy you a drink later.”
“It should be me buying. You won, after all. ”
Clearing my throat, I draw their attention as I toss my used tape into the garbage. “He’s right, Cody. Winners don’t buy their own drinks.”
He flashes me a tight smile. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”
It’s so small I almost miss it. Cody thinks he snuck in the perusal, but I notice. Jamieson never does, though. Male or female, if you’re not throwing yourself at him, he doesn’t pick up on flirting.
Which is a whole other kind of heartache for me when I need to spell it out and watch him hook up with people who aren’t me.
“Let’s hit the showers before the drinks.”
We fall into a comfortable walk, his six-foot-two and my five-foot-eleven amble together easily, and he throws an arm over my shoulder. We find the truck in the back parking lot and, after tossing our gear in, Jamieson turns to me.
“Sorry for scaring you in the ring. I was really hyped up for tonight, and I knew I should’ve eaten something, but I…I just didn’t. I’m sorry, and I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
“It’s fine, Jamie. You’re just being you.”
He huffs. An annoyed sound I don’t hear often from him. “No, it’s not fine, Griff. You have a hard job, and I was selfish for not thinking about how that would affect you. I worry too, you know.”
“What? Why would you worry?” He does that thing again where he bites both of his lips, and my heart rate kicks up. “Jamie? What are you worrying about?”
With a sigh, he levels me with a gaze that almost kills me.
“Sometimes I worry you’ll get sick of my bullshit and leave. I know I’m a lot, but…I need you and…yeah, I just don’t want to stress you out with my stup idity.”
God dammit. Why would he say something like that now, after all these years?
Clearing my throat, I pop my hip into his. “I’m not going anywhere, Jamie.”
He huffs a breath. “I notice you didn’t disagree with the stupidity part.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Let’s call it poorly calculated risks instead.”
And just like that, we slip back into our usual roles, and everything is as it should be. Me pining for Jamieson and him remaining clueless.