CHAPTER 3
COWBOY
I can’t let her go. I’m still holding her by her shoulders. And I can’t let her go.
Brielle Fowler.
The only girl I’ve ever loved.
But she’s not the girl who was my high school sweetheart. Not anymore. My eyes trail down her body and back up again.
A lot of things are still the same. She’s in shape and her curves are delicate with toned muscles from dancing. Her head is tilted back and she’s looking up at me with the same brown eyes I spent hours getting lost in.
Sometimes, when the world seemed too big and everything was crumbling around me, I would think about those eyes.
I would think about her touch and the way she fit in my arms just right.
I would think about the smile on her face when she would nail a new routine or spin a certain way while holding her body just how she wanted to.
Brielle floated on the dance floor. All rhythm and movement and moments of peace while telling a story with her body that I always seemed to understand.
It felt like I could float just because I had the pleasure of witnessing her rise.
I’ve never felt that since then. Maybe I didn’t want to. Or maybe it’s only possible with her.
And now I can’t let her go.
I almost can’t believe she’s here.
The last time I checked on her she was still in New York. It wasn’t like she ever knew I was checking, but I just wanted to make sure she was safe. At least it’s what I told myself.
Over the years I’ve checked in on her less and less as the distance and time made her into a woman I only knew once upon a time.
Clearly, I didn’t check often enough since she’s standing in front of me and I’m shocked as fuck about it.
She should be in New York. It’s where her dreams took her. I can almost see those spotlights dancing across her skin right now.
As I look closer, I can see how tired she is and the little ways she’s gotten older. I’m sure she can see the same lines and little signs on my face as well.
The last time I saw her was almost 19 years ago. I blow out a deep breath, unsure of how to even begin to understand what is happening right now.
“You know Cowboy?”
I glance over at the woman because of her suspicious tone. I don’t even remember her name. I just know she works for us. It’s always been business and the line between the club and our casino is clear.
When I narrow my eyes, she doesn’t notice. No, she’s too busy staring at Brielle with enough malice to make the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge.
As much as I don’t want to, I force myself to let go of Brielle. What I don’t do is take a step back.
“It just so happens that Brielle and I grew up together.” Brielle looks down, her fingers linking together. I can see the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “We were high school sweethearts. Last time we saw each other was almost 19 years ago.”
Brielle’s head snaps up and her brown eyes flash with pain and maybe a little regret. As much as it hurt, I don’t regret it. Only because she was able to follow her dreams.
It was enough. It was the only way I could love her back then.
I glance at the woman and then flick my eyes toward the door. “I’ve got the rest of the tour.”
Her mouth drops open, but she snaps it closed and turns toward Brielle, her words clipped, “You have everything you need. I do as well. Welcome to Elysium.” It’s obvious that she has to pull those words out of herself. Forcefully.
The door shuts and the silence that follows feels big. Huge. I can feel the pressure of it on my shoulders.
“Cowboy, huh?” Brielle looks up at me with an arched eyebrow, the challenge clear. But there’s no judgement and the same shock I’m feeling is written all over her face.
I shrug one shoulder, the action casual, my voice the same, “Road name. Wasn’t sure what I was looking for when I came to Vegas,” I don’t say the words, but by the small frown on her face she can hear the after you left hanging there, “but I found the Steel Sinners.”
Her brown eyes scan me, slower this time. It takes some effort to keep my arms loose at my sides. She can look.
Fuck, look all you want my Tiny Dancer.
“Yeah,” she nods thoughtfully, “I can see you finding family with a motorcycle club. It looks good on you.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, as if she’s fighting the same kind of ache I feel at having her standing in front of me. “You look grounded in a way you didn’t back then.”
I bark out a laugh. “Grounded? I don’t think many people would talk about the Sinners and being grounded,” I tease her.
But she doesn’t smile. No, her eyes remain serious as she looks at me. “Yeah, grounded. Like you found the place you belong.”
All I can do is swallow hard. Because she’s not wrong. I found everything I was looking for in Vegas.
I never entertained a relationship though. Maybe because I found my woman, the only one meant for me, in a Nevada small town where ranching never would have made me happy and we were too young to turn it into forever.
Before I can say anything, she smiles. “How does mama Arden feel about you being in Vegas?”
At the mention of my mom, I can’t help but grin. “She hates it but tries not to say it outright because she knows I’m where I’m supposed to be.” My head tilts as I look at her and the question slips from my lips, “Why are you here, Brielle?”
The flash of pain in her eyes has my heart stopping in my chest. I’ll admit, my tone was harsher than I intended. But this is a lot.
So many memories are washing over me.
Of times when we rode one of my family’s horses across the land. Of her laughter. Of the feel of her curled up against my side during a movie marathon.
And then it all ended.
I can still remember the way her eyes were filled with unshed tears the day we said goodbye. Even though it was ripping our hearts and souls apart, where she needed to go, I couldn’t follow.
If I would have tried to keep her and allowed her to follow me as I searched for where I belonged, it would have dimmed her light.
She would have smiled, she would have laughed, and we would have loved.
But she would have also, eventually, wondered what would have happened if she had followed her dreams instead of mine.
Even though I haven’t allowed myself to think about it for years, I’m thinking back to that day. The day I lost her. The day I let her go.
“Wherever you end up, whatever you end up doing, I hope you’ll find happiness, Everton,” Brielle’s words were filled with pain, but she was trying so hard to hide it from me.
But she couldn’t. Because it was the same pain I was feeling with every beat of my heart.
She tried to hold back all of her tears. I could see it in the way she was clenching her jaw and holding herself so still. As if it would be enough.
Then one tear escaped and I couldn’t help but brush it away. Our gazes locked and the last thing I wanted to do was look away. The last thing I wanted to do was let her go and head out into the world without her by my side.
But that’s how it needed to be.
“I wish I could go with you,” I tried to hold the words back, but I couldn’t. It was as if my soul needed her to know the truth, needed her to know how much I wished things could be different.
“But you can’t.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.
Still, her words, and the truth in them, felt like shards of glass being rubbed against my skin.
Walking away from her that day was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Staying away, letting her become the woman she needed to be, was an exercise in control.
The only things holding me together, keeping me looking forward instead of drowning in the past, were my brothers and my daughter.
Fuck. My daughter.
My heart sinks. There was a time when the only child I could imagine having was one with Brielle.
That’s not how life ended up working out.
For the first time in years, I’m nervous.
And that’s not the only feeling I’m having.
There is a yearning which is completely foreign and won’t be ignored. It’s not nostalgia. It’s something else.
It’s her.
Brielle clears her throat and straightens her spine. I almost grin at the movement because it’s the same thing she used to do before she tore into me about one thing or another. And, yes, I figured out quickly that she was always right.
Even when she wasn’t.
“I work here,” the words are simple, but the depth of them, the meaning not spoken but understood, rings in the silence around us.
As the moment stretches, she huffs and rolls her eyes in a way that takes me back to a time when I didn’t appreciate how simple things were.
“I was in New York where I was constantly auditioning, working, or teaching classes here and there. It was tough, but I was taking on the life I had been chasing.”
“What changed?”
She waves her hand down her body and my gaze follows. My eyes caress her; I can’t help it.
“While I don’t necessarily feel it all the time, just when my knees are popping and my entire body aches, I’m borderline geriatric in the dance world. I was working less and losing more jobs to young dancers who hadn’t realized the city was going to chew them up and spit them out.”
The edge in her voice, the steel in it, isn’t born of strength but survival and makes me want to pull her into my arms until she can let her body relax. Until she can trust me again.
I clear my throat, suddenly realizing just how close we are. But I can’t make myself step back.
“Why Vegas?” The words are like sandpaper against my throat, but I need to know the answer.
“I wanted to move somewhere warmer and where I could maybe find a job dancing still. The price of living was a factor, along with being close enough to LA where I could audition there as well if I really want to.”
Her explanation makes sense, but I can’t help but feel like there might be more going on here. Like fate stepping in.
My mouth opens even though I have no idea what to say, where to even begin, but the door swings open with a bang which has us both jumping.