10. Set It On Fucking Fire
10
SET IT ON FUCKING FIRE
WYATT
H ere’s the thing about Dakota Cutler: she acts like she doesn’t hold grudges, but really, she likes her grudges like her cowboy boots—old, broken in, and worn. She holds onto them so tightly because when someone hurts her, it cuts her deep.
She’ll say she forgives you. She’ll claim it’s all water under the bridge. But she’ll never forget, and you’ll never be able to tell what she actually thinks since that woman doesn’t speak a bad word about anyone.
It’s one of my favorite things about her because that relentless tenacity saved my life, and I don’t mean that like some over-the-top love confession— you saved me from the worst parts of myself, no —that girl actually saved my life during a flash flood at Cibolo Creek.
I’d been eight years old at the time, splashing around in the turquoise water with an imaginary sword when everyone started screaming, “Move to higher ground!”
I thought they were joking because Texas is supposed to be this dehydrated desert state, so how can there be flash floods in the Hill Country? But hills have valleys, and when those valleys fill, people drown.
If it hadn’t been for Dakota’s death grip, that would’ve been me—deader than a gaping fish.
The rain came pouring, and the water started rising. I was frantic, sweating despite the chilly summer storm. All I could think to do was to scramble onto one of the ancient cypress tree roots, but my fingers kept slipping on the wet bark as I tried to hoist myself up.
The water surged around me, filling my nostrils, and when I thought I couldn’t hold on any longer, Dakota appeared, hovering over me like a dark angel. Her eyes blazed as she glared at me something fierce—even as a preteen, she could cut a man down with just a look.
“Grab my hand,” she said. No, commanded.
I grabbed.
And she held.
Using all her strength, she pulled me up over the ledge until I crashed onto her chest, and then we ran to my sobbing mothers on higher ground. From that moment on, I knew I had to hold onto her like she held onto me.
“She hates me, Cruz,” I groan, talking to him through my AirPods.
“Well, can you blame her?” my teammate, Micah Cruz, says on the phone.
He’s our center for the Nashville Guardians and one of my best friends. He and Rhode Tremblay, our retired goalie, are my boys.
They stayed up with me through sleepless nights with my girl and sat by my side as I watched all the swaddling tutorials after she was born. If it weren’t for them and my parents, I would’ve gone insane from lack of sleep those first few months.
“From what you’ve told me,” he continues, chewing obnoxiously on something. Sounds like tortilla chips. “You basically came back and moved into some barn with your screaming baby. Don’t get me wrong, Vi’s cute but loud. I’d be pissed, too, if I were her.”
Cruz gives everyone hell, but he’s one of the best guys I know. Since Tremblay’s off gallivanting in Argentina with his girl, Nina, Cruz answers my calls more often, and he always answers on the first ring no matter when I call.
“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” I admit, racking the barbell in the open-air gym—Colt’s Place.
Colter Cutler, Dakota’s father, built a gym in Granite Falls for all the rodeo competitors to train at as part of his Give Back to the Community effort. It’s not fancy, but they’ve got squat racks galore.
Cruz crunches a chip on the line. “What’s her name again? Kodie, right?”
“You can call her Kodie, but I call her Dakota.”
“Why do you call her that?”
“’Cause her dad named her after the song ‘North Dakota’ by Lyle Lovett, since, in his words,she came out screaming the day she was born, and it was the only song that calmed her down. He always hated that everyone shortened her name to Kodie.”
Except, even Mr. Cutler can’t help but call her Kodie now, so I’m the only one. It makes me feel like we’ve got something special.
He crunches again. “Damn, you two really do go back.”
“Yeah, we do.” With a grunt, I towel off the sweat on my forehead. “And what’re you eating? Close your mouth.”
“ Close your mouth ,” he repeats with a snort. “You and those manners. What’s with all your grunting? You sound like you’re jacking off.”
“How would you know what I sound like when I’m doing that?”
“’Cause we lived together for two years and shared a bathroom. I know .”
“It’s kind of weird that you were listening, man,” I say.
“I have no boundaries. So, what’re you doing? Need me to call you back so you can finish?”
With an eye roll, I tie my hair back. It’s fucking steaming in here. “I’m doing what you should be doing instead of eating chips. Working out. Preseason practices are gonna be brutal if you don’t hit the gym this summer.”
A sharp twinge pierces through me at the thought of leaving Texas, but I push it aside and pick up my weights. This gym looks more like a renovated CrossFit studio with rubber mats and leg presses.
I can see Dakota kicking up dust in the distant training arena with the other bull riders, next to the giant white barn where they keep the animal stock. Her brown hair is plastered to her sweaty forehead, but I can’t stop staring.
“So, back to Kodie,” he says. “I’ve never heard you bring up this girl’s name until you told us you were headed home to some small-ass town in the middle of fuck-knows-where, and you get quiet when you’re hiding something. You in love with this woman or something?”
I stay silent.
Too silent.
“Holy shit!” Cruz yells on the phone. “Tell me everything. Right now.”
He is never going to let me live this one down, and I need to talk this out. I’ve kept these feelings bottled up for too long, and I’m tired of acting like I’m not completely gone for Dakota Cutler.
I slump against the bench press, running a hand through my sweaty hair. “Yeah, alright, fine. I’ve liked her for a while now, but she has no idea.”
“Damn.” Cruz whistles out a long breath. “How long have you known her?”
“Since I was eight.” I lower my voice to keep this private, glancing at some guy doing pull-ups. He’s sweating a shit-ton, so I should grab a towel for him.
“You’ve been obsessing over this woman for that long?” he shouts so loud I have to jerk the phone away. “Why the hell haven’t you made a move?”
I scowl even though he can’t see me. “Because every summer I came back, she always had a boyfriend, and then she got engaged to some bull rider named Boone Bowman, and I missed my chance, and that led to Vi, but I found out she called off her engagement, so I’m back now.”
I stand from the bench and walk through the open garage gym door. Squinting against the bright sunlight, I spot Dakota sitting casually on the metal railing, watching one of the bull riders bucking around the arena. There’s something about her intense focus that always makes me wonder what thoughts are racing through her mind.
“Are you gonna make your move this summer, then?” Cruz asks.
“I want to, but…” I shake my head even though he can’t see. “It’s complicated now. I’ve got Vi, and she’s only ever seen me as a friend.”
“How the hell is that even possible?” Cruz says. “You’re sexy as shit.”
A laugh jumps out of me. “I don’t know, man. She likes guys with dark hair. Maybe I should dye my hair.”
“Don’t you fucking dare. You better not change a single hair on your head for any woman.”
“I don’t know how to change her mind.” I groan, already googling hair salons on my phone, but then I close it out.
Dumbass idea. I’m not dying my hair. Then, I wouldn’t look like Vi, and I love looking like my baby girl.
“You ever tried taking your shirt off in front of her?” he asks.
I chuckle.
“I’m serious, man,” Cruz says. “You’re fucking ripped. Whip that shirt off every time you’re around her. Guaranteed she’ll notice.”
My ears go hot, remembering the time I came back after gaining twenty pounds of muscle. She’d been on a big weightlifting kick the summer before, so I obviously had to bulk up to reach her level. I spent that whole summer shirtless, puffing out my chest, hoping she’d notice.
She didn’t.
I towel off my sweat. “I don’t know. We used to swim in this creek growing up, but she never cared. I tried everything.”
“What is it about this woman?” he asks. “Why’s she got you all twisted up?”
I stare at Dakota as she glares down a bull, and that same glowing sensation I’ve had for years flares in my chest. “She’s always been the one for me. You know my parents, they’re flower farmers and one’s a middle school hockey coach—they never really pushed me toward anything. But Dakota? She always pushed me toward hockey.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’d tell me to raise hell, to do whatever I wanted. She’s the one who told me to dream big and go for the NHL. I probably wouldn’t have even gone for the League if it weren’t for her. She’s ambitious, and I needed that ’cause I didn’t have much direction growing up. She’s good for me, and I know I could be so good for her.”
“Fuck.” Cruz snorts. “I didn’t ask for a novel, man, but alright, I got it.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I take a hefty swig of lukewarm water and toss an extra bottle to the guy next to me since his is empty.
“Alright…” He sighs overdramtically. “This is a tough one, but here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna grow a fucking pair, and tell her you’re in love with her, and then you’re gonna kiss the hell out of her so she gets the damn point. Problem solved.”
Part of me is tempted to go for it, but that’s a risky move. She could reject me, and then I would mess this up. Not to mention I’m not feeling as confident as I used to feel when I constantly smell like wet wipes.
It might make me old-fashioned, but I want her to fall for me naturally because falling for her was the most natural thing in the world for me.
“It’s not that easy.” I stand here, my eyes glued to Dakota’s muscular silhouette in the distance. “I can’t blurt that I’m in love with her. She hates me right now, so I’ve got to make things right first. What if I ruin everything?”
“That’s exactly what you need to do. Ruin everything. Ruin that friendship. Set it on fucking fire. She’s only ever seen you as a friend? Fine. You need to show her you’re the man that got a woman pregnant with a condom. Those are some strong swimmers, Patty.”
I huff a laugh. It’s funny, but it’s not.
Even though my life didn’t turn out as I planned, I don’t have any regrets about Vienna. She’s not just part of my world, she is my world, but it’s hard to ask someone to make my daughter their whole world too. “Yeah, but I’ve got my girl to think about, too. I come with a lot of baggage.”
“Any woman who thinks your daughter is baggage shouldn’t be your woman,” Cruz declares, and dammit, he’s not wrong.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right. You and Tremblay don’t give me enough credit. The next time we talk, you better have made your move, or I’m flying down to Texas to force you, and then…”
He keeps talking, but a whistle in the distance draws my attention. The flank men open the gates, setting the bull loose with Dakota on its back.
This is only a practice round, but she’s wearing that same determined expression that always makes my heart hammer. They let her go in the arena, and then the bull is bucking wildly with her holding on for dear life.
Come on, honey. Stay on for me this round.
The bull bucks and bucks, and Dakota looks really stiff on the back of the animal. She needs to loosen up, or she’s going to fall. After a few seconds, she goes flying through the air, right into the dirt.
I flinch like my pain is tied to hers. “I’ve got to go, Cruz.”
I’m on my feet a second later, jogging through the field to get to her.
Always to get to her.