Chapter 3 #2
“I gotta go, Mav, but I’ll call you later, okay?” No doubt about it now, she was trying to get me off the phone.
I mumbled a goodbye, lowering the phone from my ear just as a male’s voice picked up on the other end of the line. “Who was that, babe?”
The sound of the next word on Ashleigh’s lips sent a spear of ice straight through my heart. “Nobody.”
My thumb fumbled for the end button, the blood in my veins turning to ice. Nobody. That was almost worse than catching her two timing me…again.
Crushing defeat settled on my chest, spearing and twisting in my heart like a blade. My pulse thrummed in my ears as I dipped my head in shame.
I should have known. Should have known this would happen.
It always did. It was the same ol’ story with her and I.
The same cycle. The same game of cat and mouse.
And yet, I couldn’t let her go. Aside from the Mooneys, Ashleigh had been the first person I’d made a connection with after losing my family.
She’d been my first everything, really. First friend. First kiss. First love.
My emotions warred within me like a hurricane—wild and raging. I hated this feeling. Hated feeling so out of control.
Fisting my hands at my sides, I made my way towards the stairs leading up to the hayloft we’d converted into a workout room.
I didn’t bother taking off my shirt or hat as I stomped over to the punching bag.
Didn’t bother wrapping up my hands. Settling into a defensive stance, I centered my breathing and began punching.
Idon’t know how much time passed. It could have been five minutes or five hours, but when I finally pressed my head against the punching bag, sweat coated my brow and blood stained my knuckles.
Ryder and Cash were right. She’d only ever need me until the next best thing came around. I’d been a fool to let her in. A fool to think things had changed.
That’s the last time.
As much as it hurt, I needed to put her in the past.
Cash would be happy to hear that, at least. I thought of him and how he’d stormed out of the barn. There wasn’t much that disappointed him. So, when something did…especially something I did…fuck, it stung.
Good thing about Cash was he had a short attention span. He didn’t stay angry for long.
Blowing out a breath, I glanced down at my phone. 5:05 PM. They probably wouldn’t leave for another hour or so. I might be able to still join them.
Thumbing through my phone for Cash’s name, I called him, not even bothering with a greeting as he said hello. “Y’all need a driver still?”
Iblew out a breath as Ryder pulled up to Cowboy’s, the neon sign glowing like a beacon. Trucks lined the parking lot, while people milled in and out of the dance hall and bar. Plumes of smoke dissipated into the night air from those puffing on cigarettes and vape pens.
My stomach did a flip flop even as Cash clapped his hands together in the back seat, that million-dollar grin curling his lips. “It’s gonna be a good night!”
I wasn’t quite as optimistic as him, but I was here, so figured I might as well try to make the most of it.
Charlie and Ryder were lost in their own world, hardly paying Cash or I any attention.
A pang shot through my heart. I wanted what they had.
The way Ryder looked at her…and the way she looked right back.
They were like two magnets, drawn to one another. You could feel the pull they shared.
I wished mine and Ashleigh’s connection had been that strong, that pure. Ours was just toxic.
Stop thinkin’ about her.
Right. I rolled my neck, trying to release the tension, and opened the truck door. Cash all but bounced beside me as the four of us made our way toward the entrance.
The place was dim inside, save for the dancefloor lit up by blue-hued lights.
People hung out at the multiple bars strewn throughout the place, while others stood around in the back left corner, cheering on those drunk or dumb enough to brave riding the mechanical bull.
A large number two-stepped across the dancefloor.
Some country song drifted through the dancehall.
I didn’t know the name of it, but I’m sure Cash did. He listened to all that new shit.
We ambled through the throng of people, my nerves coiling tighter and tighter. Crowded spaces always made me feel uncomfortable.
A familiar smokey and feminine voice drew my gaze, sending a trickle of relief through me. “Hey y’all!”
Cheyenne's bright smile rivaled Cash’s in its intensity. Her pale blonde hair bounced all the way down to her hips in wild ringlets. And those eyes… Like twin chunks of turquoise, they bore into me as she met my stare.
She reminded me of wildflowers and whiskey. Gorgeous and wild and potentially trouble. The harsh blue lighting did little to wash out her sun-kissed tan, which paired well with the bright pink denim flares she wore along with a white cropped tank top that hugged her chest.
I’d never met anyone as confident to wear the things she did, save Cash.
The two possessed a confidence I’d never know.
And like twin rays of sunlight, it felt like the entire bar was drawn to them.
Eyes scanned us from all around, taking us all in with their veiled scrutiny.
Probably wondering what the hell I was doing in the mix.
Ryder and Charlie held a light, a pull, a magnetism all their own, the most intriguing blend of western and edgy with Ryder’s cowboy getup and Charlie’s tattoos.
Which left me, a shadow, a stain of darkness among the group. I didn’t belong. That much was clear.
I didn’t drink, but, fuck, the thought of something right now to drown out my nerves almost sounded tempting. Almost.
But the group would all be dancing soon enough, leaving me to disappear among the shadows, just the way I preferred.
My lips curled, my prediction correct as Charlie and Ryder strode for the dancefloor after a quick hello to Cheyenne, while Cash did a slow turn, taking in the dancehall, his gaze landing on a group of girls there for a bachelorette party—by the looks of their matching outfits.
Oh, dear Lord, he’d have fun with them. With a knowing grin aimed my way, he strode for their table.
“How’s it goin’, Maverick?” Cheyenne’s bright eyes pegged me in place.
I fidgeted under her stare. Cheyenne Harris intrigued me about as much as she terrified me.
She held a predatory grace and charm that left the fearful, quiet side of me trembling in my boots.
I’d gone up against men twice my size, come out on top, but I’d bet this five-foot something spitfire could bring a man to his knees with little more than a smile.
I thought of what happened earlier with Ashleigh. Of what today meant to me. A million different horrible thoughts flashed through my mind even as I lifted my shoulders in a simple shrug as I answered her question. “I’m alive. And you, Miss Cheyenne?”
She scrunched her nose up at the formality. “Just Cheyenne, please. I’m definitely no miss.”
My lips quirked in the corner. “Alright. How’s it goin’, Cheyenne?”
Her shoulders mirrored mine in a matching shrug, but the smile on her face, the glow in her eyes was pure mischief. “Oh, you know, just caught this guy I was seein’ cheatin’ on me this mornin’.”
“Well, damn. I’m sorry.” Why anyone would cheat on her was beyond me. Girl was gorgeous. Beyond, really. A girl like her wasn’t meant to be hurt, she should be treasured.
She lifted a single shoulder. “Eh, it’s okay. I chased his sorry ass off with a cattle prod. You should have seen the asshole’s face.”
I coughed, blinking back my surprise. “You what?”
She repeated herself, her voice light, her demeanor open and casual—as if chasing people with cattle prods was an everyday thing. It might be for her. Barrel racers were their own brand of crazy, and I’d heard stories of Cheyenne.
I couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped me as I shook my head.
Her brows furrowed, the light in her eyes dimming as she crossed her arms over her chest, her lips dipping down into a frown. “What’s so funny?”
I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “I just like the confidence, is all.”
“Oh.” Her features softened, just like the anger replaced with intrigue. “Charlie said you weren’t comin’ earlier, what made you change your mind?”
A part of me was tempted to say something about Ashleigh, to vent to someone other than Ryder or Cash about my situation.
Someone who didn’t know our history, our toxic story.
But I’d never been good with words or expressing myself or talking in general, so I just shrugged again. “My plans fell through.”
She whistled low, a hint of a smirk lining her plump lips as she pressed a plastic whiskey tumbler to her mouth. “Boy, you always talk this much?”
Dear Lord, she reminded me of Cash with the unabashed level of confidence. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded once more.
A low chuckle left her. “It’s okay, you don’t need to talk to dance. Come on, cowboy.”
My heart hammered in my chest, my legs seizing up and freezing as if I were stuck in a chunk of ice. I hated crowds, but more than that, I hated dancing. I’d never been good at it. I was too tall. Too lanky. It always felt odd. Robotic. I didn’t have a rhythmic bone in my body.
Neither does Cash.
But Cash had something I’d never have enough of. Confidence. It poured off him in buckets. That and alcohol.
“I uh…I don’t dance,” I muttered, fidgeting under her gaze.
Something flickered in her stare, that pout returning. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
Another shrug of my shoulders. “I don’t dance.”
She rolled her eyes, one of her hands drifting to her hips as she jutted it out to the side. Challenge danced in her gaze, in every inch of her petite frame, actually. She was fiery, that one. I fought the ghost of a smile pulling on my mouth.
“You can’t dance or you won’t?”
“Does it matter?”
She huffed. “Of course, it does! One suggests you can learn, the other just shows me you’re stubborn and unwillin’ to.”
I chewed my lip a moment before lifting my shoulders into yet another shrug. “You ever seen a frog fly?”
She frowned, rocking back on her heels in confusion. “No.”
My brow quirked up. “Then you got your answer.”
She sucked in a slow, deep breath, that turquoise gaze searing every inch of me. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”
Another shrug. Dear Lord, could I do anything other than that? But it was true. I didn’t think myself a particularly good dancer, and it was too much attention for my liking. Best to just leave the dancing to Ryder and Cash. The two of them loved it.
She blew out the breath she’d been holding and asked, “What about gettin’ a drink then?”
“I don’t drink.”
She groaned, her head tilting back, those long ash blonde ringlets falling down her back and brushing against the curve of her ass. “You’re killin’ me, Maverick. Do you know how to have fun at all?”
I huffed, a low chuckle rumbling out of my chest. “You sound like Cash.”
She rolled her eyes, even though warmth lingered in her features. “And you didn’t answer the question.”
“I’m afraid if you’re lookin’ for fun, I ain’t the one you should be talkin’ to.”
Something shifted on her face. The light remained, but her gaze hardened a bit, the corners of her eyes tightening ever so slightly. She blew out a deep breath through her nose and sighed. “Fine. Be boring then.” And with that, she strode away.
She didn’t even make it ten feet toward the dancefloor before some guy stopped her, asking to dance. Unsurprising. She was like a beacon of light in this den of shadows. A sun among a midnight sky.
I leaned against the table we’d claimed, letting out a sigh as I glanced around the dancefloor.
Ryder and Charlie twirled around, both of them smiling and laughing as they tried and failed to work on a new spin.
I wasn’t surprised to find Cash by the bar still, two girls on either side of him, eating up every word he said like he’d hung the damn moon.
I swear, if he weren’t family, I’d probably hate him. The ease and confidence with which he held himself. Not that I agreed with nor wanted to flirt with multiple women at one time, but…well, flirting or small talk just never had really been my thing.
Maybe that’s why I’d always hung onto Ashleigh. She was as familiar as my favorite pair of boots. I hadn’t won her over all those years ago with my charm, but from honesty. Before she’d been a lover, she’d been my friend.
The idea of doing what Cash was doing now, of putting myself out there like that…I just couldn’t. It wasn’t me. I didn’t have the charisma, the charm. I wasn’t the type of person for light conversation. Peopling was hard. Words were harder.
My mind drifted back to that first year after the accident. Of the countless doctors’ visits with Bad and Aunt Violet. Of them saying nothing was physically wrong with me, but that sometimes when a person went through a traumatic experience they’d just stop talking altogether.
I pushed the brim of my hat up, rubbing at my forehead before righting it once more.
Why was I even here? I wasn’t good company even on the best of days. But today…?
A bright blur of pink drew my gaze.
Cheyenne’s lips were pulled up into the most radiant smile I’d ever seen—one of pure sunshine—as the same cowboy who’d asked her to dance spun her across the floor.
I wasn’t the only person watching her. At least half the dancehall did too, as she dipped and twirled and two-stepped to the beat.
She held a magic all her own, drawing everyone’s attention.
A part of me envied that. That light that she so easily possessed. Why couldn’t I have fallen for a girl like her? Sure, the cattle prod chasing, barrel racer part of her scared me a bit, but it had to be better than Ashleigh and her two timing ways.
There was no way a girl like her—who was pure light—could fall for someone with as dark and tainted a soul as me.
With a huff, I pushed off the table and made my way toward the exit.
I needed a smoke.