17. Shiloh
Shiloh
As Tyler and I load up in her truck, I see Verge throw his hat in the trailer and punch the side of the tack room, and I put my elbow on the door to cover my mouth and look out the window.
I’m trying really hard not to be mad or upset with him.
Did I shed a few tears before he got back to the trailer?
Yes, I absolutely did. I have no intention of asking him to change what he loves.
Nevertheless, he put himself in that danger tonight.
I would never ask him to sit out of a ride if he was in full health.
Do I like that he does ride? No, but this was different, I feel.
Knowingly going into that ride with a busted-up ankle was stupid.
I sigh, rolling my head to her, and shrug. “I don’t know if I can do this, Tyler,” I admit. Bull riding in general is one thing. I swore to myself I’d never get involved with a bull rider given my past trauma, but he kinda fell into my world.
“I get it, girl, but what if he asked you to quit team roping?” She asks as she pulls out of the rodeo grounds.
“Roping isn’t dangerous,” I laugh.
“It can be. A horse is, at the end of the day, an animal, Shiloh. Running full speed at a steer, hoping your horse doesn’t trip or freak out— it’s a very real possibility.
Not to mention losing a finger dallying.
” She laughs before she continues, “No, our sports may not be as risky as his, but life is full of risks, and what the hell fun is it if we just sit home in our bubbles and do nothing fun?” She shrugs, looking at me, then bringing her eyes back to the road.
“Yeah, I just...” I go to say, getting lost in my thoughts before I continue, “I just always swore after that day I’d never get involved with a bull rider. I told him I wouldn’t ask him to change, but what he did tonight was fucking stupid. He knew he was hurt, and he rode anyway.”
“Yeah, I mean he definitely should have sat that one out, but I also get not letting Pierce have the satisfaction,” she says, sitting back, putting one hand on the wheel and the other arm on the door as she starts to bite her nails.
“I just wish he would consider the consequences of his actions. He very well knew he was going to be put in a pickle tonight with that ankle."
She chuckles. “A pickle, huh?”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.” I laugh.
“I will agree that he probably should have sat out, but from someone who rodeo’s full time like he does, sometimes you gotta suck it up and ride, especially if you need the money,” she says with a shrug, keeping her eyes trained on the road.
I honestly haven’t thought about it that way.
Yes, rodeo is my career of choice, but I’ve never really had to consider money.
Dad won three world titles, and when he passed, he left Cash and me, let’s just say, plenty of money behind.
I now slump back in my seat, feeling so selfish and self-centered.
It’s not that I am one of those people that shows off her money or even considers myself rich or better than anyone, it just hasn’t been something I particularly thought about.
“Don’t feel bad, Shiloh,” she says, pushing my shoulder.
“I just never thought of it that way. Here I am, so wrapped up in him not riding because it’s dangerous, but I never even thought about him purely needing the money,” I admit.
“That man rides because he loves it. I’m sure he needs the money, but he’s not just good, Shiloh, he’s great.
The only thing that will make you selfish is asking him to quit.
He’s got God-given talent. You’re just going to have to find a way to deal with those 8 seconds,” she says frankly, and as much as I hate to admit it, I know she’s right. It's my past that haunts me, though.
“I went back to that day when he almost got trampled tonight. Those 8 seconds, Tyler, they aren’t just 8 seconds for me,” I choke, and my eyes mist over as I let one tear fall, sniffing and batting it away quickly.
“They are endless. The world feels as if it’s in slow motion, and it’s never going to end.
I hold my breath until his hand is free, and he lands on the ground again. ”
“If you don’t think you can deal with it, Shiloh, you need to break it off with him. I get it, I do, but you can’t make him pay for your past traumas and fears,” she states.
My stomach sours at the thought of breaking it off with him.
We haven’t even really been a couple for 48 hours, but the way I’m drawn to him— hell, have been drawn to him from the moment we realized we were going to be traveling together.
I have never kissed a guy first before, but every time I’m around him, I want his lips on mine and his arms around me.
My silence, I assume, stresses her out, and she speaks up again. “I’m sorry to be so blunt with you, Shiloh. Everyone says I’m an acquired taste. I just tell it how it is.”
I put my hand on her arm. “I’m not mad at all, Tyler.
I appreciate the honesty,” I tell her, because I truly do.
Another reason I typically surround myself around guys is because they never sugarcoat shit, whereas some women just tell you what you want to hear to make you happy or feel better about yourself.
Not to mention the ones who tell you something to your face, then go talk shit about how they really feel behind your back.
I’m about to say something else when my phone rings.
VERGE.
I look over to her and then answer. “Hello?”
“Can we please talk when we get back?” He asks, and the desperation in his tone makes me feel bad, especially considering what Tyler just told me. I’m feeling very self-absorbed at the moment on how I handled this evening.
“Yeah, I’m sorry for how I handled things. I just needed some time,” I admit.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay. Are you staying with Beau?” I ask, because honestly, now that I’m over my little pity party, I wish I had ridden with him. Not that I don’t enjoy Tyler’s company. I for sure needed the girl time too, but still.
“I reckon, unless you have something else in mind,” he chuckles.
I slump in my seat, racking my brain because I honestly don’t know what to do. “We will figure it out when we get back, I guess.”
“Okay, Shi. See you in a while,” he says.
“Bye.”
We hang up, and I already miss his voice. Dammit, what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this hung up on someone.
“So, I guess that answers that,” Tyler laughs.
“What?” I ask.
“That you’re gonna get over your shit and stay with him.”
“Ugh. It’s been like, what, two weeks? And the thought of not being with him makes me more sick than watching him ride, so I guess yes. I’m going to attempt to get over my shit,” I tell her.
“Good, because y'all are cute together,” she replies.
“So are you and Cross.”
Even though it’s dark, I can still see her cheeks turn a little pink as she blushes and bites her lip, looking over to me. “He’s pretty great. This may be weird, but I’m kind of shocked you two aren’t a thing.”
I wave my hand through the air. “He’s literally like a brother.
It would be weird. We kissed once, and nope, it wasn’t it for either of us.
He’s my best friend, though, and I wouldn’t wanna live this life without him, but we just are not right for each other romantically, if that makes any kind of sense. ”
“I get that. Well, I’m thankful he came and said hi. Are you sure it’s okay if I park my rig and have my horses at your place? I don't wanna put anyone out. I can find somewhere,” she says.
“Tyler, I assure you it’s fine. As long as you care for your own horses, my mom will not care.”
“Whatever you say,” she laughs.
We talk back and forth for a few hours and then trade off driving until, 16 hours later, we are finally pulling back into our ranch. Thank God.