11. Walker
Walker
I stare, jaw on the floor, as Phoenix turns and walks out of the makeshift barn. I don’t have a plan when I tear after him out of the barn, but a thank you for the information is probably a good place to start.
He called me Quick Shooter.
Not only does he remember…he wants me to know he remembers. That has to mean something , right?
“Phoenix, wait!”
He doesn’t.
“Phoenix , please. ” He doesn’t stop, but I catch up to him easily enough since my legs are now slightly longer than his.
Sensing that I’m right behind him, he finally stops. “Walker, don’t. ”
I’m still adjusting to hearing my name come out of his mouth again, but it sounds so good rolling off his tongue, even in anguish.
“Don’t what , Phoenix? Say thank you? Say I’m sorry? I can’t be here, can’t see you , and pretend like nothing happened between us. ”
Still facing away from me, he drops his head and I see his back expand with his breath when he finally responds with a half-assed glance behind him.
“ Now you want to admit something happened? I figured you’ve been content spending your life pretending it didn’t. Don’t think you being here changes anything.” The ice in his voice wraps its cold tendrils around my heart.
Jesus Christ. I wasn’t prepared for this reunion and although I should have anticipated it after our run-in, I also wasn’t prepared for this level of animosity.
But fuck all if I’m going to walk away from Phoenix again. If he really thinks I’ve spent the last eight years pretending that night didn’t happen, I’ll spend the next four days convincing him otherwise.
As luck would have it, I draw forty-two and take my time surveying the horse that corresponds to my number now that he’s in the stall. Feisty and hellbent on avoiding eye contact, I smile because I see so much of his owner’s current demeanor in him.
I don’t try to pet him or force my company onto him.
Instead, long after everyone has left the barn, I sit outside his stall listening to the sound of his hooves as he shuffles.
He’s left-side dominant which is interesting.
Heavier steps to that side and a restless energy I know all too well.
Like he’s trying to run from something, but the walls keep closing in.
“We’ll get along just fine tomorrow,” I tell him as I stand an hour later and wander back to my camper. And I’ll be ready for that second kick .
Knowing I’ll be on a bronc raised and owned by Phoenix somehow calms my nerves.
It’s like a part of Phoenix, himself, will be with me tomorrow, and I can already feel my victory.
Unfortunately, this is a go-round rodeo, which means I have three rides over three days, and the highest cumulative score will win.
There’s also no guarantee that I’ll draw one of his horses for my other two rides, so I’ll make sure the first ride is flawless.
When I pull the door to my camper open, I just want to head for the small shower and reflect on every look, every moment, every interaction I’ve had with Phoenix today, but Jonas looks miffed.
“You been out there with that horse this entire time?” he asks.
I shrug, unsure how I feel about Jonas right now.
His style of coaching has always focused on my skills as a rider and how to adjust to a bronc’s movements by staying engaged, fluid, and in control.
But hearing Phoenix spew knowledge about the horses and their styles makes me a little angry that Jonas doesn’t give me the full picture as Phoenix said.
“Just trying to get a feel for him,” I reply.
“For him or his owner?” Jonas asks accusatorily, his hip propped against the small counter.
“What the hell are you talking about? And why are you pissed? You’re the one that was fangirling all over Phoenix at the bar.”
“Yeah, well, that was before the cocky bastard tried to act like he knew more than me about coaching.”
“J, he does know more than you. As much as you can analyze style, and coach what needs to happen to match it, there are some things you can only know after being thrown around yourself.”
Jonas shoots daggers at me. “Don’t think I do a good enough job? How do you think you got to be number one on the circuit?”
I roll my eyes, too tired to keep the peace with his fragile ego.
“I think we make a good team and that’s how I’m number one,” I fire back, angry that he’s acting like he, alone, is the reason I am where I am.
“If you coach a rider who can’t follow the instructions you’re giving, then you won’t get very far,” I argue before capitalizing on his stunned silence to tell him I’m going to grab a shower.
When I’m halfway to the back bedroom, I hear his voice call out behind me.
“I’m still waiting for the story you owe me.”
His tone makes me pause.
There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t like. Jonas may have been hired by my dad, but he works for me, and no way in hell am I sharing Phoenix and I’s history with him now.
“Jonas, I don’t owe you anything. What happened between Phoenix and I is none of your business. Whatever I was once willing to share is no longer on the table.”
He stares at me a beat too long before he nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just didn’t like the way he insinuated that I didn’t have your best interests at heart. Go grab a shower and then come eat.”
Tension between a rider and his coach is never good. Especially when we’re on the road and have to live together for the rest of the season in such close quarters. It’s also dangerous because if I’m pissed at Jonas, it adds another element of distraction while I’m riding.
The hot water tank is small, so showers have to be quick, but at least I can stand up all the way and the shower works wonders to clear my head…as much as it can be cleared at the moment.
I allow myself a solitary minute—sixty whole seconds—to exhale and feel the water beat down on my shoulders as I picture Phoenix’s face.
My cock throbs and I ache to put my hand to it, but there’s no time.
Food is waiting, my water is already losing its heat, and Phoenix’s words play on repeat: Don’t think you being here changes anything.
But…of course it does.
I shampoo my hair and wash my body before I lose the last of the warm water and towel off. The bathroom is connected to my bedroom and at night, we turn the kitchen table into a queen-sized bed for Jonas. I drop my towel and slip on athletic shorts and a white tank top. It’s hot and humid as fuck.
Taking a seat at the table, Jonas arches a brow at me.
“What?” I ask, not trying to conceal the annoyance in my tone at all.
“You won the championship title the year Phoenix was injured,” Jonas states.
“So? It’s not like that’s a secret.” My answers are getting snippier the more he talks. Jonas wasn’t my coach back then, but he’s well acquainted with my record.
“That’s when you two met,” he says like he’s some detective that just solved a murder.
I’m not ready to talk about this, but I inadvertently confirm when I look away. “What’s your point?”
“Phoenix was your idol. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to make you so anxious around him. I mean hell, you ha?—"
"I’m starstruck, I guess,” I interrupt him, trying to get him off the scent. “Can we just eat?”
“Walker, you are the star. You don’t get starstruck.”
“Let it go, Jonas,” I growl, nostrils flaring. I can tell he’s slowly putting two and two together, and the way I ran after Phoenix today certainly didn’t help .
“Walker, did he…do something…you know, inappropriate? He has a reputation…”
“ What? Jesus, Jonas. No!” The thought that anyone might think Phoenix could actually hurt someone, has me so angry it makes me nauseated. I can’t let Jonas think that. My God, if he were to run his stupid fucking mouth because he’s pissed about Phoenix besting him this afternoon…I can’t bear it.
Instead, I out myself without thinking twice. “It was me , Jonas . I had a crush on him. I told him, and he shut me down. It’s awkward, but he’s never been anything but kind to me.”
Jonas’s eyes widen in shock. “What do you mean you had a crush on him? ”
Scrubbing a hand down my face, suddenly wishing I had more than this tank top covering my exposed skin, I respond in frustration. “What do you think I mean? I’m attracted to him. He’s the rider I wish I was. I admire him. I think he’s hot. I want?—”
“Okay.” Jonas holds up his hands. “Okay, I get it.” He eyes me quizzically. “Just to clarify, you had a crush on him, like you grew out of it? Or you have a crush on him?”
I stare back at him with a flat affect. I want to say you don’t grow out of being gay, but not yet ready to put it on the literal table like that, I guard my answer.
“It doesn’t matter. I came here to win a rodeo and that’s what I plan to do. We’ll be back on the road soon enough and we can put this behind us.”
Well, Jonas can put it all behind him. No matter where I travel, my memories of Phoenix will always be with me.