17. Callie
Chapter 17
Callie
The sweet smell of fresh hay is the first thing that hits me when I walk into the arena, followed quickly by manure. It’s impressive how fast I get used to it the smell disappears into the background, becoming just another part of what makes this place special. With the growing attention on the sport, most buildings have been updated, but this one has that old charm from my past. Wood-planked walls faded with time. A dirt floor leading through multiple hallways lined with empty stalls. They won’t bring all of the bulls in here until the last minute. The animals are too dangerous to be left unattended in regular pens like this. Without the sound of their grunting, it’s almost peaceful. The calm before the raging storm that’ll happen tomorrow night.
I’ve been anxious since dropping that bomb on Maverick and Colt. They told me they’d figure it out, but I have no idea what that means.
They’re unloading their stuff, no doubt meticulously checking it. Just like skydiving, one tear in the cinches could lead to disaster. A loose rope could be a death sentence if it catches around their boot.
A horse whinnies, kicking its hooves, and throws its muzzle over the gate, huge black eyes staring right at me. Hot air huffs from wide nostrils, as if to say I’m annoying him. Animals are sensitive to emotion, especially horses. Centuries of being prey have ingrained their flight response, tuned to read the rest of their herd for any signs of danger. It’s unsurprising that my anxiousness sets him on edge, making him restless, head swinging back and forth, tail whipping his sides. If I unlatched the gate, he’d be a mile away in a minute.
“Shhh. It’s okay,” I croon, cautiously moving closer, not wanting to spook him more than I already have. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss.”
The stunning black stallion watches my approach, breaths filling the space between us, but his demeanor settles, giving me the confidence to move closer. “That’s it. I made such a fuss, didn’t I? Worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. Good thing you’re here to snap me out of it.” The more I speak, the lighter I feel, as if it’s the horse soothing me instead of the other way around. I hold my hand above his nose where he can easily see it and wait, letting him decide if he wants to be touched. He nuzzles into my palm, and his smooth, short fur glides under my touch.
“You’re such a good boy.”
His wet nose nudges my hand as if agreeing and pushes it harder into me. His huff of frustration is easy to read. “You’re right. You deserve a treat.”
Recognizing the word treat , he whinnies again, this time pleased. I search my pockets, already knowing they’ll turn up empty. “Had I known I’d meet you today, I would have brought you something.” I stroke his nose again. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll bring you something when I come back.”
Snorting, he whips his head to the side where there’s a bucket hanging from a post. Inside, it’s half-full with powdered oats.
“You like this?” I ask, and I swear he nods yes. “Alright, just a little though. Too much sugar’s bad for you.”
Does he look disappointed, or am I losing it?
“Okay, okay. Easy.” I scoop a handful of oats from the bucket, stretching my hand completely flat beneath him. Flexible lips travel over my fingers, funneling his treat into his mouth. Wide, flat teeth are visible with each bite, but he’s extra careful not to nip me. Sniffing my hand when it’s all gone, he nudges again, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up my throat. Moments ago, I was heading into a downward spiral, and this guy’s got me giggling.
I used to think horses were magic.
When I was little, my dad would lift me up onto the saddle, hands steadying me, voice warm in my ear.
“Hold tight, baby girl. Trust your seat. Trust the animal.”
Maybe that’s what I’m still doing now, trusting something bigger than me to hold steady when I can’t.
“Just one more,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t be doing this without your owner’s permission, so it’ll be our little secret.”
He nickers as I grab another handful. The bucket being right by his pen at least lets me know he’s not allergic. A little extra snack will be alright for such a charmer. His lips smack together as he cleans every morsel, and then he takes a step deeper into his enclosure when it’s clear I don’t have any more.
“Oh, I see how it is. Using me for food, huh?” I muse, watching him relax and feeling the tension leaving me.
Nothing like a sweet horse to make all your worries go away.
The metal bar separating us tings with the rhythm of my nails. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I press my hand to the wall, feeling the vibration of distant hooves thudding against the ground. The wood under my palm is warm from the sun, and it feels solid, real, grounding.
A memory flickers me, Colt, and Maverick at fourteen, sneaking into the arena after hours, daring each other to climb into the empty chutes.
“One day,” Colt said, grinning that wild, fearless grin. “We’re gonna be legends.”
And Maverick, lounging against the fence like he had all the time in the world, just said, “We already are.”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the burn rising in my throat.
I want that back.
I want this summer to stitch us back together. I want it to erase the years we lost.
With that, I leave the handsome animal, needing to breathe fresh air after so much time in the depths of the building.
I make my way through the tunnel to the open arena, and it’s not long before my sight catches on Colt. He’s leaning over the fence next to the bucking chute, wearing that same excited expression my dad always wore.
From the second Colt stuck his first ride, I knew he’d never give it up. No one brushes with death like that without coming out changed on the other side.
His excitement was contagious that overwhelming high, electricity racing over my body and humming in my veins. It felt like he could touch the sky. When Maverick rode just as well, the entire town talked about them. You’d think they were local celebrities. I’d been ecstatic for them, living in the exhilaration of it all. We’d spent our entire lives in arenas, in and out of places we weren’t supposed to be, constantly getting yelled at, and narrowly escaping. Now, my boys would be a part of it all.
They shined so bright it was hard to look directly at them as they placed event after event. Quickly, they were good enough to skip age brackets and move to higher-level bulls. They were flying high and taking me with them.
I’ve lost so many moments with them, so much time. They’ve grown into men and I wasn’t there to witness it.
The deep scent of forest envelops me moments before I’m caged in by thick, corded arms, strong hands gripping the bar in front of me. For the short time I’ll allow it, he feels like home. Security wrapped in warmth, a steady place to rest. Maverick’s chest rises and falls against my back, steady and sure, syncing up with my own uneven breaths until the tightness in my chest eases. He doesn’t say a word, resting his chin on top of my head as he scans to see where I’ve been looking. His low hum vibrates into my back, and I drop my head into his shoulder. From this angle, I can just make out his eyes, still focused on Colt.
The thick ridge of his brow stands tall as they pinch together. There’s none of the heat they normally glare at each other with. It’s replaced by something pained, maybe even regretful. As the seconds tick by, an intensity takes over, and his eyes grow impossibly dark, lids hooded as he peers through his long lashes. Goose bumps pepper my neck and arms as the air grows thick, heavy around us. He’s still watching Colt, and I’m still watching him, unable to look away from the way he reveals the depth of something more. A banked fire, firmly held under control. He squeezes my shoulder absentmindedly, his thumb massaging into my neck, which is sore from the drive. I should feel like an outsider, coming back into this world after so long, but his reassuring presence, steady at my back, washes any worries away. Colt does the same in his own way, instead of steady, he’s playful, his smile welcoming me, telling me I’ll always belong here.
It’s heartbreaking to see them both want things to be different while being equally stubborn. Their past stands in their way, but so does the way they react to each other. More than rivals, more than friends. They haven’t figured out that some of this pent-up aggression they have going on is actually coming from somewhere else, somewhere deeper, more primal.
A place you can’t rationalize away.
The longer they suppress it, deny that they don’t hate each other as much as they claim, every confrontation between them stokes the flames, compressing the emotions that tie them together until the pressure becomes too much to bear.
How the hell did they end up this way? So blind to what’s happening right in front of them and what’s building under their own skin.
Heavy attention settles over me as Maverick takes me in. “What are you thinking about now?”
“What happened back then? What happened to make you stop being friends and turn into whatever this is?”
Maverick drops his head to my shoulder and groans, resigning to the fact that I won’t let this go. “We got into a fight before the last event of our rookie season.”
I twist my shoulders to look at him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “That’s not unusual.”
“Yeah, well, this time was. He was shoving my chest before our ride, telling me all about how he’s better than me. How I never thought he was good enough. That I’m just jealous because he was ahead of me in rank and was going to win Rookie of the Year. He was real fucking snarky about it too. I told him to have a good ride, and he told me not to choke. Bastard. When I heard he landed hard, I asked around. The guys said it was nothing major. Same shit as always. He had a shitty-ass ride, I won the Rookie of the Year trophy, and we’ve been like this ever since.”
I hum, processing the information. “Okay… so what happened next?”
“Nothing happened. I saw him two days later, and he iced me the fuck out. All I got from him was the middle finger and his back. He messed up his ride. It happens but I never thought he’d be that pissed at me for winning.”
I watch him, the way his jaw ticks, and he closes off his expression, making it clear I won’t get anything more out of him.
It’s official, boys are idiots. These two still have a lot to work through. Luckily, I’m here to help make that happen.
“Can you just drop it? It’s all in the past now. No use bringing it up. This is what it is… even if we’re sorta getting along now.”
That’s the first time one of them has admitted things might be changing, and warmth shimmers in my chest. They may think it’s all in the past, but I’m ready to dig all of that up.
I go to ask another question, but he whines. Literally whines to avoid it.
My mouth splits into a grin I can’t hold back because I’m about to cause so much trouble. The good kind though. Well, hopefully.
“Fuck. How fucked am I?” he groans, not even trying to talk me out of it.
Shrugging, my shoulder blades brush against his solid chest, and my ass shifts against the front of his jeans, heat washing over me, making me shiver.
He grunts, a pained sound, his fingers gripping my hip bones, holding me in place.
His attention pinpoints where my tongue wets my lips. “Oh, I’d say you’ll be really fucked.”
I’m pulled backward, his hard cock slotted against my ass, and he groans into my neck. A whimper escapes my lips, and I’m about to rock into him when Colt shouts, running across the dirt arena toward us.
“We done here?” Colt says, breathless. “I’ve got somewhere I’d like to take you. Somewhere I think you’ll like.”
Maverick stiffens behind me, a displeased rumble in the back of his throat.
Colt rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t worry, asshole. You can come too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… we need his truck.”
That has me laughing, and I can just make out the subtle sound of Maverick’s chuckle.
They can try to hide it all they want. But I’m onto them.
What’s a little meddling for old time’s sake?
This is going to be fun.