Chapter 44
Trey
Pasadena, Texas
Dust flies as I drop my gear bag with a thunk. It all comes down to this last one. Win anything above third place at this rodeo, and I’ll be in Las Vegas at the National Finals come December. Buck off, and my season is over.
Knox is in South Dakota for the Governor’s Cup. Unfortunately, I didn’t qualify for it this year. Kacey flew up to meet him, and I’m here in Texas by myself.
It’s the last night of the rodeo, so there aren’t many guys here.
This time of year, guys go home broke, or they’re tired, and know they’re not making the finals, so they call it a season.
In my case, I’m what they call “on the bubble.” Today, I sit sixteenth in the world.
The man in fifteenth broke his leg two days ago.
His money won’t change, but mine can. I’m only $1,400 behind him, and I can easily win that here.
My phone rings. I chuckle when I see it’s Knox. I think he’s more nervous about my ride than I am. “You’ve reached the phone of Trey Bennett, superior bull rider, carpenter extraordinaire, and sex—”
“Please stop,” he grumbles.
I laugh. Mission accomplished. I’m always much calmer after annoying Knox. “Did you need something? Or are you calling to micromanage?”
“I do not micromanage,” he huffs.
Wait for it . . . I think to myself.
“You get checked in? I looked at the weather. It’s cooled off there, but with the humidity, you might want to use the summer mix rosin with some rock rosin.”
There it is. “What was that about not micro-managing?” I dig through my bag and pull out both kinds, but I’m not telling him that.
The last thing I need today is my riding glove to not be sticky.
“Don’t worry, old man. I’ve got this. He’s a 21-pointer, piece of cake. Just another day at the office.”
Once you make the 8 seconds, bull rides are scored half on the rider and half on the bull, with a total of 50 available points awarded to each.
The bull is scored on how hard he bucks, how high he kicks, whether he changes directions, and has a lot of power.
The rider is scored on control, timing, and if they have cohesive movement with the bull.
It’s fairly normal for a rider to be marked even with their bull unless they spur him, then they can be marked above their bull.
So, a 21-point bull will most likely result in an 84-86 point score.
“This is exactly what I’m worried about. Take this seriously. This bull bucks. You won’t be 90, but you can win this rodeo.”
“What do I get if I win?” I smirk, knowing I’m only pissing him off more.
“You’re going to get a knuckle sandwich from me if you don’t.”
“Are you scared to go to Vegas without me? You’ve done it before. I have all the faith in the world in you. After all, you are the reigning world champion. Have some self-confidence, bro.”
“You’re giving me a migraine.”
I imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, and it brings me joy. “Relax, I’m hyper-focused. Laser-focused. In the zone. I’ll weld my hand into my rope, close my eyes, and count to eight.”
“I can’t with you.”
“What’s that saying? Hand shut, eyes closed, full heart, can’t lose. Or in my case, half a heart.” I dramatically sigh.
I hear Kacey’s laugh on the other end.
I didn’t realize I was on speakerphone, but that’s fine. Maybe she’ll tell Jessie.
“Trey, you’re going to give him a stroke,” she says.
“Is that vein in his forehead popping out?”
“Yes,” she giggles.
“Perfect. I feel better now.”
“I’m hanging up. Take this seriously, please,” Knox grumbles.
“Probably best. I’m guessing you don’t want to hear about the super glue I have—”
He hangs up on me and I only laugh harder.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to make the finals, but more than that, I want to ride this bull and get on the road.
I plan to head straight back to Colorado.
I haven’t heard from Jessie since I left nearly three weeks ago, but we have unfinished business.
If she thinks I’m not about to make the case of my life fighting for us, she has another thing coming.
The rodeo passes quickly. I rope up my bull in the alley and climb onto the back of the chutes. I’m last out, I watch the other boys nod and buck off. They haven’t ridden a single bull here. If I win it all, I might finish fourteenth in the world.
I’m sitting in the chute, waiting on the bull in the arena to leave. I turn to Dax, who is holding the tail of my rope ready to pull it for me. “I’m hungry. Think I’ve got time for a chili dog?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “How are you thinking about food right now? You should probably think about this bull.”
“Now you sound like Knox. You two are way too serious. Besides, there’s no way I’m bucking off cute little Bug Eyes here.
” The bull I drew is one of those ugly-cute ones.
He’s a dark red brindle with a white face, two crooked cow horns and bugged out eyes.
Hence the name Bug Eyes. He’s not mean at all—he’s the least intimidating bull tonight.
The bull leaves the arena, and I warm my rope up as everyone around me gets set. I set my hand a little more to the right than I normally do. This little guy doesn’t have power, but he does have speed.
Dax pulls my rope.
I take a few deep breaths as I take my wrap, then I slide up and nod.
Bug Eyes turns back into the gate to the right.
I throw my free arm over my head and look at the inside shoulder.
He’s fast, but he doesn’t kick very hard.
I feel my hips start to slide inside the spin, so I look towards the outside shoulder and throw my free arm in front of me to square my hips. As soon as I’m back in the middle, I kick loose with my outside foot.
He doesn’t give me enough momentum to be able to spur him, but it helps me keep the same timing. He’s making so many rounds, I’m not sure how he isn’t dizzy because I’m starting to get dizzy.
I start sliding away from my rope again, so I stick my chest out and lift on my rope, shuffling my feet back behind his shoulders. He’s so fast, I keep throwing my free arm and shuffling my feet.
The whistle blows, and I pull my tail, but in doing so I slide off my rope. This causes me to get slung forward in a rolling motion. It works though—I hit the ground and roll right to my feet like it was all a part of the plan from the beginning.
The crowd roars for their only qualified ride.
I’ve been trying to get back into my groove, so I throw my arms up, hyping the crowd up more—even if I don’t feel on top of the world—as the bullfighters try to get Bug Eyes to stop spinning.
He finally stops, looks at both bullfighters, then turns and walks out of the arena.
One of them hands me my rope as they congratulate me.
The announcer comes across the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for your only qualified ride! How about 86 points for the win?”
The crowd goes wild. Kids along the fence call my name. I jog over and climb the fence to reach the stands, bumping knuckles with several of them. That’s when I see it: a flash of red hair moving this way.
No way.
It’s someone else. I must miss her so much, I’m grasping at straws. I swing my leg back over the fence to climb down.
“Trey!”
I pause. Okay . . . that sounds like her. I really am losing my mind. I shake my head.
“Trey!”
I turn as she rounds the corner, running down the stairs toward me.
“Jessie?” I ask, like an idiot, as I swing my leg back over. I take off my helmet, dropping it and my rope into the arena. I jump off the fence and onto the bottom stair of the stands.
Jessie stops two steps up from me. She opens her mouth, then closes it. I see the panic in her eyes. Like she just now realizes where she is and what she’s doing. Neither Knox nor Kacey are here, so there is only one reason she’s here—and we both know it.
The crowd noise dies down around us, and I take the two steps to her. I don’t hesitate. I grip her face with both hands and kiss her. And thank fuck she kisses me back.
The crowd goes absolutely nuts. Shouts and whistles chorus all around us. I kiss her far too long and far too deeply to be considered appropriate for the public. I always hated that PDA rule.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” she says only for my ears when we finally pull back.
“It’s okay. I was always coming back for you.”
“Good, because I’m done running. I have so much to tell you.”
I kiss her forehead. “We’ve got time.”
“Trey, son, come get your buckle,” the announcer says with a deep belly laugh.
I don’t want to let her go, but I have to do an interview and thank the rodeo committee.
She notices my hesitation and smirks. “Go on, cowboy.”
“I’ll be right back,” I yell as I jog down the steps. “Don’t move.” I point at her as I climb the fence. She and the crowd around her laugh.
Dax meets me in the arena with my cowboy hat and takes my helmet, rope, and vest for me. “Looks like you won more than a buckle tonight,” he teases.
I lightly shove him on my way past, fighting my megawatt smile. I shake the hand of the committee member who gives me the buckle before the interview.
“Congratulations, Trey. This win should secure you a spot to your third National Finals Rodeo.” The cowboy network reporter stands in front of the bucking chutes with me.
“It was a great bull ride, but we have to talk about what happened after.” She smiles and nods Jessie’s way.
Then, to my delight, they replay our kiss on the big screen.
I can see Jessie turn red as a strawberry from here.
I chuckle. “That moment tops any bull ride or any finals. That’s me getting my girl back.” She didn’t say the words, but I could feel it in that kiss. We have a lot to talk about, but I know we’ll be okay.
Two thousand women in the stands swoon, but not my girl. She rolls her eyes. And I love her for it. Come to think of it, I need to tell her that as soon as possible.
“Well, congratulations on both fronts. We look forward to seeing you back in Las Vegas this December.”
I thank her and jog out of the arena. I need to get my gear packed and get back to Jessie. I grumble when my phone rings as I’m stuffing my gear in my bag.
“I told you the super glue would work—”
“AHH!”
I yank the phone from my head at the ear-piercing scream. Kacey. I laugh. “That was on TV, wasn’t it?”
“Yes!” she exclaims. “She’s missed you so much, Trey. I knew she was flying down there, but that was even better than I imagined. You did great.”
“Please tell her that and continue to remind her of it for the next twenty years.”
“Are you talking about me?”
I practically jump out of my boots when Jessie pops up behind me. “How did you get back here?”
“Walked.” She shrugs and takes the phone out of my hand.
“Are you talking shit about me?”
I listen to Jessie and Kacey banter as I finish packing. Then I take the phone back, hang up on Kacey, and kiss my girl again.