Chapter 15 Mikey
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
mikey
Iscored an eighty-eight-point-five in my SuperSeries championship, securing my spot in the semifinals alongside Maverick and two other bull riders out of California and Arizona respectively.
I had just over a week before I’d compete again, but the other guys were competing in the upcoming rodeos, so I’d still be in the arena as a spectator.
Until then, though, we had a few days where none of us were competing, and I had big plans for me and Juniper. I wanted to get the most out of the trip and make sure she experienced things in Houston outside of the rodeo.
“Where are we going?” she asked as we drove down the streets of Houston.
I grinned at her curiosity—and her persistence, as this was about the fifth time she’d asked on the fifteen-minute drive. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”
She huffed from her seat next to me in protest but didn’t ask again as we neared the building.
“Mini golf?” Suspicion laced in her tone as I pulled into the parking lot.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” I got out of the pickup and walked around the front to get to her door. I grabbed the door handle right as she swung it open, only barely avoiding getting hit in the face. I held it open for her as she stepped out, the sun shining through her golden hair.
“If this is your idea of fun, I think I’ve had you wrong this whole time,” Juniper muttered as we made our way across the parking lot.
I shrugged. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Good opportunity to get to know me better since we’re here, don’t you think?”
She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out, but once we walked through the front doors, her eyes widened.
The entire space was cloaked in neon, with spotlights dancing along the walls and green turf floor.
Bright LED signs hung on the walls among paintings in frames, murals, and greenery.
Near the front desk, gumball machines filled with vibrant-colored golf balls lined the wall across from a row of putters in all lengths and colors.
“I can confidently say I was not expecting this.” She laughed awkwardly as we stepped up to the counter.
“How can I help you?” The teenager who was working looked, and sounded, bored out of his mind.
“We’ll do eighteen holes,” I said. “There’s two of us.”
“That’ll be forty dollars.”
Juniper raised her brows and her eyes flicked to me at the employee’s tone, but I just pulled out my wallet and handed him my card.
“Grab a putter and a ball over there. There’s three different courses you can choose from. You’ll do two of them for eighteen holes. Have fun.”
I had to suppress a laugh, because how could any normal person expect to have fun when the person working sounded like Roz from Monsters Inc.? I, however, was just happy to have time alone with Juniper without cameras, or fans, or even my friends around to make fun of me.
We headed over to the gumball machines holding the golf balls.
“What’s your favorite color, Peach?” I asked.
“Blue,” she replied.
“What? Not peach?” I teased, moving over to the machine with the blue balls and trading the quarter to dispense one.
It fell into the chute with a clunk, and I lifted the flap, grabbed it, and handed it to Juniper before grabbing my own red golf ball.
We both grabbed a putter then walked past the bar to the hallway to get to the courses.
Immediately, it was clear that this wasn’t your typical mini golf course.
Each hole wasn’t very long, and they were all themed in some way with an untraditional spin.
The first one was set up to look like a graveyard, and another hole was an arcade-looking game.
Each hole had a placard with instructions next to it.
A fit of laughter from Juniper erupted from beside me. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I told you we’d have fun.” I winked as I stepped up to the first hole, dropping my golf ball behind the line. I—admittedly—hit the ball a bit too hard, completely missing the hole and causing Juniper to snort next to me. “What? Don’t laugh at me until you hit.”
She shrugged, stepping up to the line and hitting her ball with the perfect amount of force and power, sending it ricocheting off the corner and stopping right before the hole. Juniper raised her brows at me as if to say, What was that you were saying?
I rolled my eyes playfully and took my second shot, getting it much closer this time. Juniper hit the ball in on her next turn, and I made it on my third stroke.
“I was just warming up,” I teased.
“Sure, Casanova. Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.” She laughed, gently elbowing me in the ribs.
The next hole took us into one of those money chambers, where the air blew cash in the air and you had to grab as much as possible. The air blew Juniper’s ball through the hole—a stroke of good luck—while mine didn’t make it out of the booth.
“Damn, we’re gonna have to go play a game I know I can win. Maybe a mechanical bull.” I sighed as she beat me once again.
“I hardly think that’s fair.”
“What? Afraid to lose?”
She shot me a mischievous look. “What, like how you’re losing now? I don’t think you can taunt me with losing when I’m the one winning and you’re complaining about it.”
I waved her off. “Pfft, it’s only the second hole. We’ve got sixteen to go, I can make a comeback.”
Making a comeback was wishful thinking. By the tenth hole, Juniper was leading by at least six strokes. It was possible that I was throwing some of them because I liked the way she shot me a smug grin every time she beat me, but I’d never reveal my secret.
“This was much more fun than I expected,” Juniper admitted at the fourteenth hole. “I’ve never played mini golf this way, but it’s a cool twist on the game.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun.” The statement was sincere. It was nice to see her playful side, even if she was kicking my ass. “I didn’t expect you to beat me so easily, though.”
She rolled her eyes, lips quirking up in a grin. “I’m competitive.”
“Did you play any sports?”
Juniper shook her head as she took her next shot, the ball rolling around the corner of the art gallery themed hole. “No, but I still don’t like losing. Hate it even.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. I like that, though. Maybe not the hating losing part, but the determination. I think it’s a good quality to have.”
“What, you like losing?”
“I mean, I don’t think anyone likes losing, but it’s a part of life. Sometimes you have to fall off the bull to get better. If you never fail, then I don’t think you can learn.”
The expression on her face shifted into something curious. “That may have been the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Mikey Tucker.”
“I’m not a complete idiot,” I mumbled.
“I know you’re not.” Her voice was soft, gentle, and her eyes burned into me.
I suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Hey, what’s that?” I pointed toward another hole, and she turned her head, giving me just enough time to slide in front of her and rest my hands on her waist. By the time she looked back at me, my lips were on hers. She kissed me back, but the moment was cut short when she pulled away.
“What was that for? Rule three, remember?” She slid out of my grasp, walking over to her golf ball to take her next shot.
I knew the rule, but I didn’t regret the kiss, even if I did it to get the subject off me. The moment felt a bit too vulnerable for comfort. Did the trick, though, and the game was back on.
We finished all eighteen holes, and Juniper ended up beating me by an embarrassing length. As we left the course, her stomach growled, so I pulled her to the bar for drinks and snacks. We didn’t have anywhere to be today, so it may as well have been five o’clock.
“So…” Juniper stirred her drink.
“So?” I lifted a brow.
“You said I don’t know much about you. Tell me something about you.”
I placed a finger on my lip, tapping it as I thought up something interesting enough about me. “The first time I got on a bull, I got thrown off so hard, I couldn’t get out of bed the next day. But I kept coming back and got better at it to the point that hitting the ground hurt a little less.”
Her eyes widened. “If it hurts, why do you do it?”
“The thrill is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. Yeah, it’s dangerous, but not many people can say they’ve ridden hundreds, hell even thousands, of bulls in their lifetime and lived to tell the tale.”
“Couldn’t you get the same thrill out of a roller coaster, or I don’t know, skydiving?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Pretty sure skydiving and roller coasters both have risks associated with them.”
She threw her arms in the air. “Mechanical bulls, then.”
“You worried about me, Peach?”
Her gaze held mine, frozen in time. But then she whispered, “Yes,” and my heart fluttered in my chest.
“It’s what I love most in the world. It may be dangerous, but I’ve gotta say, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. I’d at least know I went out doing something I was passionate about.”
She rolled her lips, changing the subject. “What are your tattoos?”
I looked down at the ink on my arms. I had full sleeves and a hand tattoo. I was surprised she hadn’t noticed the one on my hand and said something about it sooner. It usually got a laugh out of people.
I pointed to each of them, describing what they were. “I got this skeleton in Colorado when I was twenty-three and the hand of cards when I was twenty-six. It’s an ace-high royal flush, the luckiest hand in poker. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra luck on my side.”
“And your hand tattoo? What does that say? Say…when?” She tilted her head, a frown appearing on her face.
“Tombstone reference.” I gave her finger guns, showing off the tattoo fully.
She gave me a blank stare.
“I’m your huckleberry?” I continued, but was met with nothing. “Doc Holliday? Don’t tell me you don’t know…” My voice trailed off when her expression changed into subtle guilt. “Peach,” I whined, drawing out the word.
She shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t watch movies.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
“Better that it gets broken now rather than later, right?” she teased.
I hummed. “I’d rather no hearts get broken.”
She tapped my arm. “That’s why we have rules in place. No feelings and no one gets hurt.”
Even though I was the one who’d initially brought up that statement, I was having a hard time believing there’d never be any feelings involved. At least not for me. Not with how the trip was already going. But I’d humor her for now. “Right. No feelings, no heartbreak.”