7. Dylan
Rodeos are a big deal.
Especially in this state.
People come from miles around to watch the festivities. My entire family included. They go out to the rodeo as many people go to festivals, and they”re always dressed in their best, ready to show up and show off.
Uncle Malcolm already told me to have fun and do my best. The first is way more important to them that I do an excellent job without the pressure of being forced to win. But the latter—well, that”s more important to me.
”One day, it”s going to be me out there.”
The soft voice jolts me, and I glance at my eight-year-old cousin, Mina. She”s still a baby even though she rides and races in 4-H and local horse shows.
”You”re not ready for this kind of thing yet,” I tell her.
”Why not? I”m just as good as anyone.”
”Of course you are, kid, because you”ve got me to teach you the ropes.”
”Oh, please, Dylan.” She scoffs in only the way a young girl can. ”I have more talent for barrel racing in my pinky finger than you do in your entire body.”
I grin. ”Okay, I”ll try not to be insulted.”
She”s too adorable for me to take her seriously, although I keep those thoughts to myself. And one day, I have no doubt Mina will be the best barrel racer and Rodeo Queen of the bunch.
”I want to go far,” Mina whispers. ”Like her.”
Lara is riding like she”s got the devil himself after her. Her false cheer is but a mask pinned in place. The competency is real, though. She”s a great rider and keeps her seat well. Her dark hair flies out behind her like a banner.
”At least you”re doing what you”ve got to do,” I say to Mina. ”With your 4-H. You”re getting the experience under your belt. You”ll be out there when you”re older.”
I refuse to be the kind of guy who dashes a kid”s dreams. If Mina wants to shoot for the moon, I”ll help her.
She giggles. ”You”ll still come out to see me, won”t you? Even when you”re too old for these kinds of things?”
”I”ll never be too old to support my baby cousin.”
”I”m not a baby.” She looks like she”s ready to stomp her foot.
I tug a lock of her hair. ”Too cute for your own good. Come on.”
The National Anthem ends, and with the last strains of the song dying, Lara slows Coco to a jog, then a walk. The rest of the gathered crowd, still on their feet, give a clap for the Rodeo Queen.
I clap a hand on Mina”s shoulder and steer her toward where my aunt and uncle are seated. It”s better to deliver her safely to them rather than trust her to find her way back. I”d rather her not run wild like Amanda through the festivities.
It might look like a safe event, but it”s easy for a kid to get hurt with everyone geared up and animals feeling all those emotions before they do their thing.
Mina chatters the entire way back to the stand, and Uncle Malcolm stands when he sees me coming.
”What”s this? You slip away for ice cream and return with our champion?” he asks her.
”I”m not a champion yet. But let”s cross our fingers,” I tell him. I give Mina a slight push that sets her in motion, and she climbs the bleachers toward our family.
I turn in time to watch Lara jog out of the ring toward her trailer. She”ll be up pretty soon with the rest of the barrel racers—something I”m waiting to see. It”s been too long since the last time I watched her ride.
”Do you want to sit with us for a minute?” Uncle Malcolm pats the space beside him. ”Or are you too jittery to stay still?”
”I might take a walk around. Get my legs under me before it”s time to go up.”
”Get yourself some water,” Uncle Malcolm says with a straight face and a monotone like he”s trying to be helpful.
I salute him and head to find a bottle of water.
It”s not too hot out, but I”m already sweating like an asshole.
In addition to the scent of horses, an assortment of deep-fried goodness colors the air. Anything that can be fried will be at these kinds of events. I”ve seen vendors roll up with deep-fried butter on a stick. For some reason, though, the thought churns my stomach today.
Nerves, I tell myself, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. Nerves because of what I have to gain.
It”s just a kiss.
I try to tell myself that it”ll lessen my anxiety about the impending win. It”s just a kiss from a pretty girl. It won”t mean anything.
But it will.
And what if the kiss is the catalyst for bigger and better things with Lara?
What if it”s the final chink that breaks down the wall between us so we”re finally free to explore whatever”s been brewing for years?
Lara clicks her tongue and sends Coco past me at a jog, her gaze ahead and unseeing even as I choke on the dust her horse”s hooves kick up.
Doesn”t matter.
None of it matters except my win today and what it might mean for me, for her, and for us—if I even get lucky enough for there to be an us.
”Oh, hey! Look at this!” Parker is in my face in my next breath.
”Can I help you?” I ask blandly.
”I was going to talk to Lara and ran into someone dying to see you.” He”s got a shit-eating smirk on his face and reaches behind him, pulling Sloan out from where she”d been hiding behind him. ”Said she wanted to talk to you, but you”ve been avoiding her texts,” he says.
My stomach sinks as Sloan loops her arm through mine. ”It”s not very nice of you, Dilly,” she purrs.
”Once she told me how she felt, I had to find you. Now you two play nice. I”m off to talk to my girlfriend.” Parker emphasizes the last word before his cold eyes flick to mine, and he winks.
I stifle a growl.
He knows what he”s doing, and I have to tamper down the heady desire to give him a good kick in the ass. There”s no way for me to go after him, though. Not with Sloan clenching her fingers around my arm as though she”s trying to trap me.
Her mouth tweaks up in a smile, and the tip of her pink tongue darts to lick her upper lip. ”You haven”t been avoiding me, have you?”
She”s dressed in skin-tight denim shorts and ankle boots that show off most of her long legs. Her white T-shirt dips low in the front, giving anyone taller than her a look down the center of her cleavage.
Yes, I”ve been avoiding her.
Or, more like I haven”t spared her a passing thought since the day she offered sex. None of those truths make their way out of my mouth, though, and I end up saying, ”Been busy prepping for today.”
”I can forgive you, Dilly. How about you take me to the food trucks, and we can get a snack?”
”I”m not a fan of the nickname,” I tell her as she drags me into an alley away from Lara and toward the deep-fried shit my stomach doesn”t want right now. ”We can go as long as we get back in time to watch?—”
”We won”t miss Lara. Since you and she are such good friends.”
She”s baiting me. It doesn”t take a rocket scientist to see the game Sloan wants to play today. Feeling me out to see where I stand.
Between her and Parker, I”m going to have to watch myself. They”re clearly both after the same thing, although by vastly different means. They both want me to keep away from a particular person. And although it”s tempting to distract myself with Sloan, it”s not fair.
Not when mentally I”m a million miles away.
The sounds of the crowd are still loud by the food trucks and the stands erected around the rodeo ring. Despite the start of the barrel racing, plenty of people are lined up for food, cold drinks, and all kinds of excitement.
Sloan drags me toward a vendor offering corn dogs, and we make our way through the line with idle chitchat passing between us. When she finally has her snack in hand, and none for me, she makes a show of dipping the corndog in a round cup of ketchup.
The tip of the corn dog passes between her lips, and it”s all I can do to keep a straight face.
We take a seat at a table.
”Have you thought about what I said?” she asks after chewing, staring at me the entire time.
”I did,” I say and straddle the bench. ”Still thinking about it.”
Sloan”s eyes light up, and she licks her lips. ”Really?”
”I”m just not sure if I”ve got the time to devote to you.” It”s the nicest thing I can say when I want to return to the ring.
”You don”t need a lot of time. I”ve seen how you are, Dylan. I”ve seen what you can do with your hands.”
I tip my head toward her. ”We”ll have to see how it plays out.”
My mind is cracked into two distinct halves, with part of my attention on Sloan and the other half on a certain dark-haired girl of my dreams.
”Look, I, uh, I don”t want to cut this short, but I need to get back,” I say. ”If you”re almost done with— You want to stand by the fence with me?”
In my mind, it”s a fair compromise.
Sloan considers the corndog she”s munching and the tactics she”s employing that aren”t working on me.
Finally, she swallows the last bite. ”Sure. Yeah. Tiffany and Ashley are racing, too. I should be there to support them.”
I hold out a hand to help Sloan off the bench, and she swings her legs around, slapping her palm down in mine before she tosses her long hair over her shoulder.
I want to ask her, why me?
Is it because of my friendship with Lara? Or does Sloan think I”m someone she wants to fuck around with? Those kinds of musings will drive a guy out of his mind, though, and I”ve got to focus.
Sloan laces her fingers through mine as we walk. ”Who do you think are your biggest competitors today?” she asks in her silky voice.
”There”s a few good riders out there,” I murmur, getting lost in my mind, but it”s not about guy riders.
”But none of them are as good as you, Dylan. That”s what you want to say. Right?” Sloan prods.
I chuckle under my breath. ”I don”t want to overestimate my abilities… But these hands?” I hold up our combined hands. ”They do know what they”re doin”. I”ve been putting in the extra time.”
We stop at the fence as Sloan”s friend Tiffany finishes her turn racing. Tiffany catches sight of Sloan and me, and she flashes us a wide grin on her way past. Her buckskin moves easily, his gate steady.
I let Sloan”s hand go,
The announcer calls Lara”s name next. Her shoulders are square, and her focus is on the route laid out in the center of the ring.
It takes me way too long to realize Sloan is still babbling something to me, and it”s damn near impossible to tune into her conversation.
There”s no way Sloan compares to Lara, even though it isn”t fair to compare them at all. Watching the latter handle her mount, sending Coco flying around the first barrel, I know.
I”m done.
My heart made a decision long ago, and no number of flirty texts or hand-holding from Sloan will dissuade me.
And Parker be damned.
I don”t give a shit.
Horse and rider are one now, Lara working her way around the barrels with such skill that even Sloan falls silent. I lean closer to the fence and grip the top board as Lara easily wins this entire thing.
The pressure at the back of my head increases to the point where it”s impossible to tune out. If I don”t win my event today, my chance of taking the plunge is gone, and that kiss will be toast.
Eventually, Sloan makes her excuses and heads off to talk to Tiffany and Ashley, leaving me standing with my thumbs hooked in the belt loops of my jeans as I head to Lara”s trailer.
My mouth goes dry. What do I say to her?
What is there to say?
”Please don”t tell me you”re here to express your opinion on my racing,” she says easily. ”I”ve heard enough from Parker and want to cool my mare down.”
”I like watching you cool down. Please continue. And congratulations, by the way. You”re gonna win that for sure.”
She licks her pretty lips and looks at me from under her hat. ”Your event is up next. You should probably get ready.”
I sidle in front of her until she has no choice but to look at me. ”What”re you really wishing for? You want me to do well? Or do you want me to come in second?”
Lara laughs, the sound half strangled. ”Why would I want you to come in second, silly?”
”Because you understand what it means when I win.”
”You”re making it seem like a bet will change something, Dylan. Don”t you think you”re making a bigger deal of it than it warrants?”
Nope. I know what it means if I fail today.
”What if it is a big deal?” I ask. ”I mean… I think we”ve got to realize there”s a possibility you”ll go weak in the knees when I?—”
My breath catches in my chest when she turns the full force of those green eyes on me. ”You expect me to kneel in front of you?”
The image in my head is so powerful my dick jumps in my jeans. ”Yeah,” I breathe. ”I do.”
She shrugs purposely. ”I guess we”ll have to see about that.”
You got that right, darlin”. We”ll see all about that.