Chapter 9
Shiloh
We are now at the bar grabbing a table. The ride over was filled with conversation, mostly about how Cross convinced the brunette he met named Tyler to come out to eat with us.
I was quiet for most of the ride because I can’t get my mind off the silver-eyed asshole beside me.
I say asshole, but he actually hasn’t tried to get under my skin today.
No, he’s been nothing but kind and honest this time around.
I’m trying to chalk it up to him feeling bad about that one tear that fell on the way here, but I can feel his vibe shifting.
According to Beau, his mom only passed about two weeks ago, and I can’t imagine he’s opened up to anyone about how he really feels. Men aren’t particularly good at that, and it also seems as if he doesn’t have any other family.
We order our food and all eat. I look around the bar, still lost in my thoughts. Cash, Beau, Cross, and Tyler are all carrying on in conversation, and I’m not trying to be rude in any way. I just can’t turn my mind off.
Verge leans over, whispering in my ear, “You okay?”
I shiver at his closeness and his warm breath on my ear before I say, “Fine.”
“You look it,” he whispers back.
I snap my head toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of the beer he ordered. “You’ve been stuck in that head of yours since we left the rodeo grounds. What's eating you?”
Looking over at him, I feel Cross’ eyes on me. Then he looks at Tyler and says, “Want to dance?”
The bar has a dance floor in the middle, and the song You Proof by Morgan Wallen is playing. “Sure,” Tyler replies excitedly, looking at me.
“I love your name, by the way. Shiloh is such a cool name,” she tells me.
“Thanks. Tyler is a cool name for a girl,” I reply, smiling at her. She seems super nice and full of personality. Definitely Cross’ type. If she sticks around, I’ll try and make friends, but Cross has never kept a girl around too long, so who knows.
“Come dance with us, Shiloh. I’m sure Verge wouldn’t mind spinning you around the dance floor,” Cross insists as a smile spreads across his mischievous face.
My eyes almost bulge from their sockets. I’m going to kill him.
“We're good,” I say.
“I’d be down for a dance, Shi, if you’ll have me,” Verge says, putting his arm around me, and my stomach is in knots. His touch is subtle, but it does something to me, and it feels good but also makes me nervous.
“Yeah, come on, Boots,” Cross winks.
Fuck.
“I guess,” I sigh, sliding out of the booth.
As we make our way to the dance floor, I walk closer to Cross, pulling his arm, and he bends down laughing. “I’m gonna kill your ass,” I whisper.
He smiles. “You’ll thank me one day,” he says, winking as he takes Tyler out on the dance floor, spinning her around and two-stepping to the song.
Verge holds his hand out to mine, and I reluctantly take it, rolling my eyes, and he pulls me in close, placing his hand on the small of my back, and the song changes to I’m a song by Stephen Wilson Jr.
Of course a slow song would start as soon as he pulls me in, I think to myself.
Being this close to him in this way, my heart rate rises, and his scent surrounds me, leather and cedar. For someone who smokes like a freight train, he doesn’t at all smell of it. I guess that’s good though.
“So, you gonna tell me what’s on your mind, Shi?” He asks softly as we sway to the song.
I look up at him. “Nope,” I reply, pretending being this close to him isn’t affecting me in any way.
“Don’t be like that,” he mutters, jaw ticking, and damn it’s sexy, but again I can’t go there.
“I don’t know how to be around you, Verge,” I admit.
“What does that mean?” He asks.
“I can’t.” I pull away, but he doesn’t release me. His embrace grows stronger, and it turns me on more than I’d like to admit. His eyes look straight into mine as the song continues.
“You want to though,” he says with an intensity that has my eyes locked on his.
He’s right. I do want to. Oh gosh, I want to. But I’ve seen what bull riding does to someone, and I can’t put myself in a position to be shattered again.
“I won’t ask you to change who you are, Verge,” I say, trying to pull away again, and he holds tightly.
“Then don’t,” he says with a tone so desperate that it nearly takes me out.
I swallow, pulling away again, and this time he lets me go, his gaze following me as I leave the dance floor. Turning to look back, I see him running his hand down his face in frustration, and he walks toward the door, stalking outside.
Running my hands through my hair, my eyes start to mist over, so I make a beeline for the bathroom before any other man I’m with comes rushing after me asking what’s wrong or what he did.
Walking into the bathroom, I lean over the sink trying to catch my breath.
I’ve only been around him two times, but every time I am around him it feels like the world slows down and it's only us two. I know he feels it too, and that scares the shit out of me. I’ve never thought of someone or felt the way I feel with anyone else but him.
Sure, I’ve had a few boyfriends, but no one who stuck.
I’ve never even slept with a man, for crying out loud.
No one I’ve ever been with has felt worthy of that privilege.
Call me a prude all you want, but I’m only 20, and I want my first time to be with someone who I feel is worthy of that.
Taking a deep breath, I look in the mirror again and see Cross opening the door to the women's bathroom. I chuckle at him. He gives zero fucks that this is the women’s bathroom.
All he cares about is if I’m okay. He steps in, looking around to make sure no one else is in here with me before he shuts the door and locks it.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He asks.
I turn around, leaning on the sink. “He’s an asshole,” I state plainly, but I’m pretty sure he sees right through my bullshit.
He shakes his head, looking at me, and chuckles before he says, “I love you, Shiloh, but I think you’re the one being the asshole, not him.”
My mouth drops to the floor. “Are you serious right now? Really?” I scold.
“Come on, Shiloh. I see it written all over your face. You like him, but you’re acting as if you don’t and giving him a hard time because, why?” He asks.
I shrug with my eyes misting over before I say, “You know exactly why, Cross.”
I cross my arms over my body, and he steps closer, putting his hands on my arms, bending down, bringing my gaze to his before he says, “You gotta let go of the past, Shiloh.”
Looking back at him, I let one tear fall and he hugs me. I wrap my arms around him before I say, “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he says, holding me, rubbing my back.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about these feelings coming on so strong, but at this point I feel like the thing pushing me forward towards him is going to be stronger than my will to deny it.