Chapter 3
Steam billows around me as I step out of the shower and reach for the plushy, deep purple towel hanging on the rack. Night one of Stampede Days is complete, and it was a solid start to the week. I rode hard and scored well, but I somehow fucked up my neck at some point. It’s stiff, and I can barely turn my head. I’m hoping between the ibuprofen I took when I got home, the scalding hot shower I just soaked in, and the heating pad I’m about to put on it when I go downstairs, it’ll feel good as new tomorrow.
Jade brought Suzy to the rodeo tonight so she could watch me. I put her to bed as soon as we got home, and after a quick check in her room lets me know she’s already passed out, I drop my dirty towel in the laundry room before heading downstairs. The lights on the lower level are off, but a glow from the TV shines from around the corner, meaning either Jade or Grady are in there watching something. Hopefully the latter, because I wouldn’t mind kicking back, having a few beers, and watching a movie with Grady. Whereas hanging out with Jade sounds about as appealing as pulling teeth. Grady and I have pretty much always gotten along. Sure, I’d rather spend my time alone when I’m home for a short while, but there are worse people to hang out with.
Peeking my head around the corner, I spot him on the couch. “Hey, I’m grabbing a beer,” I tell him. “Want one?”
He snaps his head in my direction, a smile spreading across his face. “Scared me.” He breathes out with a laugh. “Sure, I’ll take one.”
Two ice-cold cans in my hand, I pad out to the living room, handing one to Grady before I take a seat on the other end of the couch. “What’re we watching?” Really looking at the TV, I add, “Wait, is this Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle?”
Grady snorts as he takes a drink of his beer. “Oh, yeah. Never gets old.”
Huffing a laugh, I say, “Holy shit, I haven’t seen this since I was a teenager.”
Cracking open the top, I bring it up to my lips and let the chilled liquid fill my mouth. I bite back a groan that wants to break free, because this is exactly what I need after a long day at the rodeo. Stampede Days is my favorite event of the year. On the circuit, we go to a handful of similar events, but nothing as special as this one. One of the largest outdoor rodeo and western celebrations, Stampede Days has been around since the early 1900s, and it’s so much more than just a rodeo. There’s a parade, a carnival, tons of small businesses set up in booths lining the street, food, drinks, and on the very last day, there’s a huge waffle breakfast that’s free for anybody in town.
Speaking of… “How was today?” I ask Grady, turning my head and taking him in.
He glances over at me, resting his beer on top of his thigh. “It was good,” he replies, sounding like he means it. “There’s so much to see, so I hope I got some good shots. I think I did, but you never know.”
“I’m sure you did great,” I mutter softly. “Stampede Days is such a huge event; Hannah wouldn’t have hired you to do it if she didn’t think you could handle it or didn’t think you had what it takes.”
One of his shoulders raises in a lazy shrug. “Yeah, but thinking someone has what it takes is a whole lot different than actually having what it takes.”
“Don’t downplay it, G. You earned this.” Taking another sip, a thought pops into my mind. “Did you see your folks today? Do they know about your gig?”
Grady chews on the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head, and I regret bringing them up. “They didn’t go, and I haven’t told them. If they know, it wasn’t from me.”
“Do you talk to them much?”
“Nah,” he mutters before downing a sip of his beer. “I think they both know my heart’s not in school, that I’m doing it to please my dad more than anything else. We’ve never had that smooth of a relationship, but it’s just gotten more and more estranged now that I’m out of the house.”
My heart twinges for Grady. It can’t feel good knowing you don’t have your parents’ support. “How do you feel about that?”
Turning his head and meeting my gaze head on, a smirk tilts his lips. “You my therapist now?” He laughs, the sound making my chest clench, and a chuckle of my own bubbles up. “Dr. Booney.”
“Fuck off,” I tease. “Just trying to have a conversation, dick. And Dr. Booney? What the hell? Why would that be my therapist name?”
That only seems to make him laugh harder. “You fuck off,” he chokes out. “Booney.”
I raise a brow at him, the smile on my face so wide my cheeks hurt. “Are you okay, G? You gonna make it?”
“Fuck,” he gasps, his cheeks streaked with fallen tears. “I don’t know why I’m laughing so hard.” He sucks in a gulp of air. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I think between that and the long day, it’s getting to me.” Grady drags in another breath, letting it blow out through his mouth as he wipes his wet cheeks. “Oh, hell, I needed that. Thanks, Dr. Booney.” He waggles his eyebrows, the teasing smirk on his face contagious as I find myself mirroring it.
Chugging the rest of his beer, he stands up and glances over at me, lifting the empty can as if to ask, “Want another?”
“Sure, thanks.” I finish off the rest of mine, handing him the empty can.
When he comes back, he hands me a fresh can before plopping down on the couch again, and we fall into a comfortable silence as we watch the ridiculous movie. It’s one of those movies that is so utterly stupid that it’s funny. We’re halfway through when I realize I’ve forgotten to grab the heating pad for my neck, but then I realize that the ache is gone.
Hmm, the ibuprofen and hot shower must’ve worked after all.
“How was tonight at the rodeo?” Grady asks, seemingly out of nowhere.
“It was good,” I tell him. “Could’ve done a little better, but I’m happy with my score.”
“Do you feel like homefield advantage is a thing in the rodeo?”
Bringing the beer up to my lips, I take a sip while I think over the question. “Depending on who you ask, you’ll probably get a different answer, but for me, I don’t think so. If anything, I feel like my nerves kick up more when I’m competing at home versus anywhere else.”
“Really?” His eyes widen as he shifts his body to face me more.
“Yeah, it’s all mental, I’m sure. It’s like I know that the eyes on me are people I know, so it makes it feel more, I guess. That probably doesn’t make sense.”
He nods. “No, it makes total sense.”
By the time the credits roll on the movie, we’ve each had one more beer, and the exhaustion is now setting in. I feel like for the first time in a while, I could go lie in bed and actually fall asleep right away. Who knew a post-rodeo cool-down of beer, a dumb movie, and laughter was all I needed?