23 - Sophie
23
Sophie
My embarrassment faded as the day went on, but the memory of Sawyer’s body did not. I relived the whole interaction while Ubering people around Fort Worth all morning and into the afternoon. While serving beer at the rodeo, I thought about the heat radiating off his bare skin while he pushed into me, shouldering the weight of the barbell. When I drove to Billy Bob’s for my evening shift, his smell permeated my nose, like the scent of sweat and musk was stuck to the inside of my nose.
Damn. I had it bad for every freaking cowboy I came across.
“It’s just like how it was before I dated Trent,” I told Liz while we clocked-in at Billy Bob’s. “I’m extremely attracted to cowboys again. Johnny, Eli, even Sawyer…”
“There’s no shame in that,” she reassured me. “Cowboys are hot. Those three specific cowboys are especially attractive. It’d be weird if you weren’t into them.”
“I thought I had grown older and wiser,” I complained. “I thought I had moved on. But here I am, totally enamored by the freaking rodeo guys.”
“Again, there’s no shame in that,” Liz insisted. “Although… did you intentionally struggle with the barbell? To get Sawyer to save you?”
I whirled to face her. “What? Of course not!”
“Because I wouldn’t judge you if you did,” Liz said as if I hadn’t replied. “Hell, I would have done the same thing to get that chiseled body up against me.”
“Liz. I didn’t do it intentionally. I just lost track of my reps, and pushed myself too hard.”
“If you say so.” Liz glanced sideways at me as we walked to our assigned bar. “But while I was on the stairmaster, I noticed Sawyer watching you. Checking out your ass whenever you squatted low. He was trying to be discreet, but I saw. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
I felt myself stand up a little straighter. “Really? He was checking out my ass?”
Liz narrowed her eyes at me. “See? You’re into him. Stop trying to pretend you’re not.”
“He’s hot, like you said,” I replied. “That doesn’t mean I’m into him.”
“So if he walked in right now and offered to take you home and fuck your brains out until sunrise tomorrow morning, you wouldn’t say yes?”
Just thinking about her hypothetical scenario gave me a tickle of erotic excitement. “Shut up.”
“I just want what’s best for you!” Liz insisted.
“Hooking up with as many cowboys as possible is what’s best for me?”
“Yes!” she replied emphatically. “It’s extremely good for you! Not everything has to turn into a relationship, Sophie. You can have meaningless, no-strings-attached sex as much as you want. Like what you did with Johnny.”
She had a point, except for one flaw in her argument: the sex I’d had with Johnny didn’t feel meaningless. I had been thinking about him non-stop since our affair. My confused feelings toward Eli and Sawyer were probably a result of that sexual frustration bubbling over.
Tonight, Liz and I were working the bar in one of the rooms with a mechanical bull. We called it Whiplash Willie, because it could be turned up to a higher setting than any of the other machines in the building. I had a love-hate relationship with this assignment. The mechanical bull drew the most obnoxious customers, like sorority girls who only cared about looking as sexy as possible on the machine, or frat bros who wanted to one-up each other.
But on the other hand, the customers in here usually drank more, both for liquid courage before riding the bull and as a consolation after they were inevitably thrown to the mat. And more drinks meant more tips.
Tonight was no exception—the room quickly became crowded as spectators who had been at the rodeo earlier in the night migrated to Billy Bob’s. A bachelorette party was gathered by Whiplash Willie, egging each other on to see who would go first.
In the back of my mind, I had been hoping one of the guys would show up tonight. I even considered texting Johnny to let him know which bar I would be working, but I stopped myself because I didn’t want to seem too needy. Besides, I wasn’t sure what else I wanted from him. A one-night stand was simple and straightforward. If we continued hooking up, the lines became more blurry.
Eli was the first face I recognized tonight, smiling at me from across the room thanks to his height. I suppressed a bright flare of excitement that blossomed in my chest, and continued serving the customers that were crowded around the bar. Eli waited his turn, eventually squeezing into a spot at the bar when someone else left.
“There’s my favorite bartender,” he said with that smile that came so easy to him. “I got a beer from a woman over in the square dancing room, but it wasn’t the same.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Joline’s working that room tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t enamored by her massive… personality.”
Eli narrowed his eyes at me. “I won’t deny she’s got a chest that rivals Miss Dolly herself. But she doesn’t have your eyes.”
Joline was, by far, the most attractive woman that worked at Billy Bob’s. I wasn’t the type of woman who compared herself to her peers, but it put a smile on my face to learn Eli had ditched her to come see me.
“You going to commandeer one of the stages here and give us another show?” I teased.
Eli shook his head in frustration. “Already tried. That big security fella yelled at me. Damn near kicked me out. Y’all aren’t any fun.”
“If you’re looking for some real fun, you can take Whiplash Willie for a spin.”
Eli glanced over his shoulder at the bull, which was currently being mounted by a college girl who was already too drunk to ride. “That’s work, darlin’. I came here to relax.”
I placed his drink order in front of him. “Well, you’d better get started. That one’s on the house.”
He beamed at me, then tipped his hat. “Well aren’t you a peach?”
I turned my attention to the other dozen customers clamoring for drinks at the bar. That involved making nine espresso martinis for the girls riding Whiplash Willie. When I finally finished preparing them, Eli had been joined by both Sawyer and Johnny.
“Howdy, Sky Eyes,” Johnny said with a knowing smile.
Butterflies swirled in my stomach as I remembered the last time I had seen him. “Evening,” I said as casually as I could.
He wasn’t the only one smiling. All three of them were. “What?” I demanded.
“Sawyer was just tellin’ us an exciting story,” Eli explained. “About a girl who was nearly crushed by a barbell at the gym, before he rushed in to save her.”
“Apparently he was quite the hero,” Johnny added, eyes sparkling with barely-contained laughter.
I groaned. “I wouldn’t use the word hero.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing.
“You just wanted to grind against my ass,” I teased. “Because you made damn sure you were all up on me while helping with the barbell.”
His grin twisted into an angry sneer. “That’s what I get for helping someone who was about to break her fucking neck. Accusations of harassment.” Sawyer turned and left the bar, shouldering through another customer who threw his hands up in surprise.
“What about your whiskey?” Eli called after him. He turned to me and said, “I was gonna buy him a whiskey. Guess he lost his thirst.”
“Did he really help you at the gym?” Johnny asked.
“You sound surprised.”
“Because it damn sure is surprising,” Eli said. “Sawyer’s the most independent man in the whole damn rodeo. He once saw another cowboy get his foot tangled in the stirrup. Instead of helping, he watched the cowboy get dragged halfway across rodeo camp. Never raised a finger, even though he was right there.”
Johnny had a mischievous look in his blue eyes. “I think he’s got the hots for you.”
“Can you blame him?” Eli said, giving me a wink.
I could see Sawyer across the room, leaning against the wall near Whiplash Willie. The girls from the bachelorette party were still trying—and failing—to ride Willie on what looked to be the lowest setting. I felt bad for accusing him of only wanting to grind against my ass. He had saved me, after all.
I poured a whiskey and said, “I’ll be right back.” Then I left the bar and weaved through the crowd until I reached the scowling man in the black cowboy hat.
“Here,” I said. “On the house. For saving me.”
He looked at the glass of whiskey. “I didn’t save you. Apparently I only wanted to grind against your ass.” He bit off every word.
“I owe you an apology,” I said, forcing myself to make eye-contact. “I was embarrassed about failing my set, and even more embarrassed about needing to be saved, so I lashed out. It was shitty of me to accuse you of just trying to grind against me. I’m sorry.”
Sawyer searched my eyes for several uncomfortable seconds. It was like he was trying to determine if I was being genuine or not. He must have decided in my favor, because he finally took the whiskey out of my hand and knocked it back in one long pull.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Welcome for what?” Eli said as he and Johnny joined us.
Sawyer raised an eyebrow at me expectantly.
“I was thanking him for saving me at the gym,” I admitted to the others. “It was very kind of him.”
“Heroic, even?” Sawyer asked.
I glared at him. “Don’t push your luck.”
The tiniest hint of a smile curled at the edge of his full lips.
“What are we doing over here?” Johnny asked, glancing at the mechanical bull. “Getting pointers before doing the real thing at the rodeo?”
“Not much skill going on tonight,” Sawyer said as one of the girls fell off the bull. It was on the lowest setting, indicated by a neon number one on the scoreboard above the ring; hardly more than a boat rocking on waves.
“You should show them how it’s done,” I suggested.
Sawyer snorted.
“I bet Eli and Johnny can outlast you,” I teased.
“Damn, darlin’. You tryin’ to stir up some shit tonight?” Eli asked.
“You’ll see who can last the longest in two weeks,” Sawyer said. “Bull riding is the final rodeo event.”
“You don’t want to give me and all the other lovely ladies here a sneak preview?” I asked.
“Listen, darlin’,” Eli said, leaning close. “LeBron James doesn’t show up to pick-up games at the park and destroy all the amateurs.”
“In this analogy, which of us is LeBron?” Johnny asked.
“I’m LeBron.” Eli looked at both of them, then at me. “I thought it was obvious I’m LeBron. Right?”
“Sure you are, buddy,” Johnny said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“LeBron who?” Sawyer asked.
Eli’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you have no idea who LeBron James is.”
Sawyer’s face was blank. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”
While they argued, an idea came to me. I probably shouldn’t have antagonized them any more than I already had, but I was feeling feisty tonight.
“Tell you what,” I said. “If the three of you take Whiplash Willie here for a ride, then whoever lasts the longest can take me out on a date.”
Sawyer tried not to react, but his eyes widened just enough to satisfy me. Eli’s mouth hung open, and Johnny blinked.
“I’ve already taken you out on a date,” Johnny pointed out.
“Then if you win,” I replied, “you’ll be cock-blocking Eli.”
Johnny smiled slowly. “Now that’s a prize worth fighting for.”