39. Walker
Walker
I hate PR events, but it’s part of the business.
Phoenix always kicked ass at these things.
Hell, all he had to do was smile and everyone went fucking ape shit.
Before the God-awful meet and greet, LXR wants me to do an Instagram live segment.
Kenna, LXR’s head of PR, preps me as best she can in ten minutes.
I asked if Phoenix could do the dumb thing with me, but my request was declined.
This is to give your fans the access to you they’ve been missing since your injury. We don’t want the focus on Phoenix right now, I’d been told.
“I’m here live at the Cheyenne rodeo and look who I found! Walker, the rodeo community has been worried about you since you took that fall in Raleigh. Can you tell us how your recovery is going?”
“It’s moving along. I’m getting back in the saddle and building the strength I need to pick up where I left off come next season’s opener.
” I avoid eye contact with the camera and flit my gaze between my interviewer and Phoenix.
Picking up that I’m getting through this by basically only talking to him, he moves to stand directly behind the shoulder of the cameraman.
Slick bastard. But hey, at least it’ll look like I’m talking to those watching.
“What’s your plan for next season? Will you be making any modifications during the off-season?” Kenna asks.
This part we’d talked about. She’s giving me easy opportunities to work Phoenix into the interview.
I’m both ready for this and terrified at the same time.
The good thing is that most of my competition is competing as we speak, so they won’t have a chance to see this interview until after we’ve left town… and that’s only if they follow LXR.
“Well, to start, I’ve gotten a new coach. I’m excited to announce I’ll be training under Phoenix Harding.”
“ The Phoenix Harding?” I feel Kenna’s eyes boring into my head.
She reaches forward and gives my hand a squeeze because only our shoulders and heads are in the frame.
I’m sure she’d say something encouraging if she could, but we both have mics attached to the collars of our shirts and since we’re live, there’s no editing.
“One and the same.” I force a tight smile.
“He’s been pretty elusive since his injury. How were you able to convince him to come back to the rodeo scene as your coach? If I remember correctly, you two were pretty big rivals back in the day.”
My heart is galloping in my chest. Hell, my microphone is probably picking the sound up and broadcasting my nerves to whoever is watching. Over the camera guy’s shoulder, I see Phoenix mouth I love you, and it’s exactly what I need to push ahead.
“Well, uh, actually, we ran into each other after the rodeo in Raleigh and reconnected. The past has a funny way of catching back up to you. He needed help on his farm, and well, I needed something to do for three months. We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well and I was in the market for a coach.
He remains the best rider I’ve ever seen, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
” I know we’re getting closer to the question, and my cheeks heat.
Kenna thought it would be best if she asked a leading question and let me take the conversation down that road.
Asking anything more direct would make it seem like she was outing me on purpose—and she didn’t want to do that, which I appreciate—but I’d argued that I wasn’t sure how to casually slip my relationship with Phoenix into this interview, either.
“And will you be returning to train at your home facility in Texas?”
“Actually, I’ll be staying in North Carolina indefinitely.” I pause and throw one more glance up at Phoenix who nods his head. “Phoenix and I are…” It’s on the tip of my tongue when I spot Jonas and Jackson join the small crowd that has gathered to watch the interview.
You have got to be kidding me right now.
I halfway expect Jonas to open his stupid mouth and yell something ignorant, but he just glowers at me.
Kenna tries to get me back on track without being pushy.
“You and Phoenix are…?”
I flash her a quick, apologetic smile before looking at Phoenix just over the camera lens and take a deep breath. I might be the only person to have ever come out on an Instagram live...but here goes nothing.
“Phoenix and I are dating. I’ve been in love with him for a long time, and I couldn’t be happier that he’s agreed to share his knowledge with me, and that he’ll be traveling with me during the season.”
Because she knew it was coming, Kenna doesn’t miss a beat .
“Well, us here at LXR couldn’t be more thrilled to have Phoenix join your team. We know you guys will be unstoppable. What are you looking forward to the most about getting back in the ring?”
This I can do. My shoulders relax and palms finally stop sweating.
“That rush of adrenaline right before the shoot opens. I know within the first three seconds if I’m going to be able to hold on for all eight, and I love the feeling of knowing I’ve got the ride in the bag.”
“Well, we certainly wish you luck as you finish your recovery, and we look forward to your return to the circuit,” Kenna finishes with a nod.
After that, I’m dismissed as she continues addressing the camera.
“For those viewers here in Cheyenne today, Walker has graciously agreed to a meet and greet following this interview. He’ll be out here until four today, so come on by and meet the record holder for most championship titles won! ”
I slip past her, out of the frame, and place my microphone in the open palm of a guy next to the man with the camera. Phoenix bursts past them both and pulls me into a crushing hug.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he says into my neck. “I can’t wait to get back to our hotel room tonight and show you just how much.”
I chuckle against his throat. “Don’t make me hard right before I have to shake hands and sign shit. That is, if people even want to meet me anymore,” I add.
Phoenix pulls back from the embrace to cup my face. “Hey, fuck them. If they don’t, let them go. I can guarantee you just got a huge fan base of queer cowboys and cowgirls who want to know they don’t have to be afraid to come out.”
I roll my eyes .
“Great, the pride flag will follow me everywhere I go now,” I mutter. I have nothing against the flag. Absolutely nothing. If you want to fly your flag, pride or otherwise, be my guest. But that’s not me. And it’s not Phoe, either. We just want to be left alone, love each other, and ride broncos.
Behind me, part of the PR team is setting up the signing table where I’ll be sitting. This is so fucking awkward. I’m always afraid no one will show up and I’ll look desperate…as if I actually wanted to do this anyway.
“Hey, can you grab me a beer?” I ask Phoenix. “Or liquor? Preferably liquor.”
When the man pulls a flask out of his jeans pocket, I almost drop down on one knee right here.
“Thought you might want this,” he says, holding it out.
“I ever tell you how much I fucking love you?” I unscrew the cap and take a swig.
“Once or twice, but I’ll never mind hearing it again.” He leans in, his hot mouth against my ear. “And again.” He pulls the lobe between his teeth. “And ag?—”
“Walker, you ready?” Kenna asks from behind me, causing me to turn. I realize that the crowd has tripled and several people are taking pictures of Phoenix and I’s moment.
I groan. “Can they really stop you from sitting at this fucking table with me?”
“Since they own the table, I’m going to say yes. But they don’t own this field, so I’m just going to take a seat in the grass right next to this fancy LXR tapestry behind you.” Phoenix chuckles.
I nod and sit at the table, turning to the first people who approach. It’s a dad and his son.
“Brave thing you just did,” the dad says. “We love watching you ride. You remind everyone it’s a form of art.”
“Thank you, sir.” Already I’m choked up. I’d just expected most people to not comment on the video segment at all. He and his kid had seen the whole thing live, though, since they were in the front of the crowd.
“Can we take a picture?” the boy asks. He looks maybe about Colt’s age, and a pang of sadness zips through me.
I miss him.
“Of course we can!” I reply enthusiastically.
Hell, if they’re going to continue to support me, I might as well show them how thankful I am for it.
Kenna steps up to take the photo as I lean across the table, planting my left hand on the white plastic top to support myself and draping my right one over the kid’s shoulder.
I watch them go after I sign his son’s t-shirt and notice they stop to talk to Phoenix, who is indeed, sitting in the grass.
His arms are thrown out behind him for support, stretching his white t-shirt tightly across his pecs.
His legs are crossed at the ankle in front of him, a total picture of relaxation.
Looking over at Kenna, I motion toward Phoe. “Can we get him a chair please? He’s not going anywhere as long as I’m here, and people are obviously going to want to talk to him too.”
She purses her lips and nods before scurrying off to find another folding chair while I sign a rodeo t-shirt and take a selfie with the next person in line. Kenna’s still working on finding a chair when two women about my age approach my table.
They have a poster of me with a picture from a photoshoot I did for LXR when they first signed on as my sponsor.
I’m wearing a wifebeater in a field holding one of their saddles in my right hand down by my side.
You can only see the bottom part of my face because my hat is tipped low, but my mouth is still visible.
Phoenix isn’t the only one obsessed with my lips.
It’s actually pretty embarrassing.
But when LXR offered to pay me five thousand dollars to hold a saddle and let someone take a bunch of pictures, all I cared about was that my entrance fees for the entire next season were taken care of in one afternoon.