38. Phoenix
Phoenix
“ W ell, I’ll be damned! If it isn’t Phoenix-fuckin’-Harding!
How are ya, son?” Mack Cooper, the CEO of LXR stands from his folding camp chair in the shade of the LXR tent to shake the hand Walker dropped before we got here.
The Cheyenne rodeo is held outdoors because even in June, the high is only between seventy and seventy-four degrees.
There are tack vendors, food trucks, media, carnival games, etc…
all over the place on these fairgrounds, and it really is an exciting atmosphere.
“I’m doing well, sir. Thank you,” I reply respectfully.
I’ve always thought Mack was a solid guy.
He doesn’t just throw his money at his athletes, he shows up.
He’s ringside for any rodeo he can attend, and although tough love tends to be his style, he seems to truly care about his athletes.
It devastated him when I had to walk away.
With the news Walker and I have come to share, I guess we’re about to find out just how solid he is.
I can tell the minute he spots my boyfriend over my shoulder because he holds out his arms in a fatherly greeting and pats Walker on the back before enveloping him in a hug.
“You holding up, okay?” Mack asks.
“Yessir,” Walker says. “Just counting down the days until I can get back on a horse. Should be able to ride an old mare soon,” he says, sending a smirk my way.
Me. He’s talking about riding me , and I recognize it as payback for the prancing comment I made a while ago. My snorted laugh catches Mack’s attention.
“I apologize,” he says in a heavy drawl. “Let me introduce you boys.”
“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Phoenix and I know each other.” Walker looks at me and I nod, encouraging him to continue. Since he’s the athlete they’re currently sponsoring, this has to be his show. He swallows and starts again, “In fact, there’s uh, something we’d like to discuss with you.”
“Sounds serious,” Mack says. “Let’s head to the RV where we can have a little more privacy.”
We nod and let him lead the way. Mack’s a big man with a very traditional, old, southern style.
If you didn’t know he legitimately knew his shit about horses and leather, it might be easy to mistake him for a sleazy used car salesman from Georgia circa nineteen fifty.
Complete with a white straw cowboy hat and bolo tie.
Walker and I follow along as he weaves through rows of high-end vehicles. This is obviously the sponsors’ lot. A minute later, Mack pulls open the door to a multi-million-dollar RV and I let out a whistle.
“Helluva place you got here, Mack,” I tell him.
His satisfied smile says the compliment was the right move. “You boys want a beer? Whiskey?”
“Sure, I’ll take a beer,” Walker says.
“Make it two,” I add. I can’t exactly shotgun it to make it effective in time for Walker to drop this bomb, but it might help to have a little something to get a buzz started.
Mack hands the cans to us and Walker immediately passes his to me. He might be able to pop the top on a can now, but I think it’s just habit to let me do it. Well, that, and he’s become accustomed to the princess treatment.
Mack must give him a concerned look as I’m focusing on the can because I hear Walker say, “Nothing to be worried about. Just want to give it as much time as I can before doing the things that have to be done.”
I tap my knuckles on Walker’s knee to give his now-open beer back to him. I’m mesmerized as he brings the mouth of the can to his lips and takes a swallow. I want to run my tongue along the seam of those lips and taste the beer on them.
“So, what did you two want to discuss?” Mack asks before taking a sip of his own drink... looks like he opted for the whiskey .
“Well, first,” Walker starts, “Phoenix is my new coach. I let Jonas Smith go when he joined Jackson White’s team for the remainder of this season.”
“And who could blame you? What kind of a coach abandons his injured rider for his rival?” Mack asks in an astonished voice.
Walker and I don’t answer because the question is obviously rhetorical, even though I agree wholeheartedly.
“How’d you get this guy to agree to coach?
” he asks, looking at Walker, but pointing at me.
“He hasn’t stepped foot inside an arena since he was injured. And trust me, I tried.”
I remember the calls, the texts, the voicemails, the letters via snail mail. The house call he made. The increase in sponsorship perks. Mack wanted me bad back then. He refused to accept that my life was on the line.
“That’s a little harder to explain,” Walker says. “Suffice it to say, Phoenix and I have history.”
Mack guffaws. “Well, whatever history has finally roped him back in, I’m thankful for it. You two working together is going to make Jackson White quake in his boots.”
“Look, for the sake of transparency, Mack…” Walker pauses and I hate the hesitation. It makes me think he’s not really ready for this, and I don’t want to rush him. He was right. I do think he’ll resent me for this one day.
I’m about to call this whole confession off by interjecting something dumb and buying Walker time to make an exit, but before I can get my distraction ready, Walker reaches over and laces our fingers together, giving mine a squeeze.
Mack follows the movement with his eyes and it makes me ready to ride into battle for Walker.
If he’s taking this step, by God, he isn’t taking it alone.
I sit up straighter, puff out my chest, and prepare for war as Walker calmly continues speaking.
“Phoenix and I are also in a relationship. We live together. We’re committed to each other and this sport.
I love my job and I love having LXR as the biggest name across my back when I ride, but I love Phoenix more, and we’re done hiding.
We come as a package deal, and I need to know that should LXR continue to sponsor me, Phoenix and I get to choose what we share with the public and what we don’t. ”
Mack takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey. “How long you been holding on to that, kid?”
“Being gay? Ten years. Being in love with Phoenix? Eight.”
Mack seems to mull over Walker’s words before swinging his gaze to me. “He have something to do with that ride of yours?”
I don’t ask which ride. The only one that Mack would care about right now is the one that ended my career.
I glance at Walker who looks as eager for my answer as Mack.
I nod once. “Yessir. ”
“You sure you’re over it? If I agree to keep my company on Walker’s vest, it means we’re gonna face one helluva media shitstorm.
I need to know I’m not putting myself, my employees, and my company on the line for something that’s going to either fizzle out or start a fire of revenge in your belly so big it takes us all out. ”
“I understand, sir,” I reply. I also understand that Mack isn’t demanding an explanation, just confirmation that we’ve thought this through.
It’s because he isn’t pushing—and because I respect him—I choose to offer an explanation anyway.
“At first, I blamed Walker for my career being over, but I’ve come to learn my anger was less about the end of my career and more about the end of a relationship we never got to start in the first place. ”
The realization slams into me like a runaway eighteen-wheeler that never tapped the brakes. Walker’s words replay instantly in my mind. But waking up every day, winning some new title or championship, doing a sport I love, would mean nothing if it means losing you again.
I’ll be fucking damned.
I knew eight years ago I’d never find what he and I shared on that barn floor ever again. It wasn’t just that my feelings were hurt from his indifference, it was that I knew I’d just suffered the greatest loss of my life. Walker, not my career, was my biggest loss.
As my epiphany takes hold, I realize Mack is still staring at me, presumably, waiting for me to finish, so I do.
“As two active bronc riders, and the circuit’s biggest rivals, we never would have worked back then, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t want to try.
I spent years trying to hate Walker, but it took less than a week of being back in his presence to realize love and hate are actually two sides of the same coin.
” Turning to face Walker, I add, “Turns out sometimes the only thing that can put us back together is the thing that broke us in the first place. It wasn’t Walker, himself, that broke me and cost me that ride.
It was the threat of his absence in my life. Now that he’s back, I’m whole again.”
Walker squeezes my hand once more and we both turn to face Mack. The rest of Walker’s sponsors will most likely take their cues from this CEO. If he walks, so will everyone else.
Mack blows out a breath. “Well said, Harding. We’ll need to get out in front of this then.
You’ll both meet with the company’s PR team—thankfully they’re here taking pictures and doing interviews for our social media platforms. You can choose how much to share, but you let them tell you how to word it, got that? ”
“So, you don’t care that I’m dating a man?” Walker asks in disbelief.
“I care more that you’re dating your coach , but this sport doesn’t have any rules against it.
Besides, I doubt my daughter or her wife would be too pleased if I used that personal matter against you.
Between you and me, most days, I like my daughter-in-law more so I’m in no rush to get on her bad side.
And for the sake of brutal honesty, Phoenix will draw a decent crowd himself, so you two pairing up is about to make me a lot of money. ”
Mack laughs a good-natured laugh, and I feel Walker relax beside me.
“A toast!” Mack says, holding up the last sip of his whiskey. Once Walker and I have our cans held in the air, Mack says, “To finding love and fuckin’ who you want.”
I choke on my spit as Walker slaps me on the back and yells, “Here, here!”