Chapter 17 #2
‘Sure. I’d hate it.’ She stands, bringing her body against mine.
‘But I don’t watch the other riders feeling like my chest is about to collapse the whole time.
’ Her words land with a heavy thud against me.
I suck in a breath, studying her face, feeling the pain there.
‘That’s not what this is meant to be. I don’t want to care about you. I don’t want to feel anything for you.’
And despite that clanging, desperate warning bell beating in my chest, I experience a rush of strength and power, a burst of triumph, that someone like Bailey could care for someone like me.
And immediately feel like a first-grade asshole, because some pretty great women have told me they care about me in the past, have shown that they cared, and not one of them has made it seem like I’ve just reached up and grabbed the moon from the sky.
I clear my throat, hoping it will likewise clear my head.
‘Okay.’ I nod slowly. ‘So if I go now, leave you here, will that work? Will you stop caring if I get thrown next week?’
She closes her eyes. ‘Don’t.’
‘I’m just trying to work out how to make this better for you, darlin’.’ I keep my voice light, like it’s some big fucking joke. ‘We both know the answer’s not about me riding.’
‘I know,’ she says, touching my chest for a second before dropping her hand away again, almost like I’ve scalded her.
‘That’s my point. It wasn’t … it wasn’t seeing you ride, and feeling like my heart was about to, like, jump out of me, or whatever.
It wasn’t that. It was just realising that I cared.
That I felt something I didn’t want to.’ She moves her hand back to my chest again, and when she looks at me her eyes are so full of vulnerability that I want to set the world on fire for her.
Not Bailey. Not Bailey Fucking James, who is strength and steel, determination and grit, who has risen from the ashes of her life not once but twice, to vanquish whatever challenge she chooses to face.
I grasp her face in my hands and stare into her eyes, hoping she can feel my thoughts, hoping, somehow, that she sees herself as I do: strong and unbreakable, no matter what.
‘I’m not asking you to quit, Beau. I know you can’t, I know why you won’t. But I don’t think I want to watch anymore.’
I nod slowly, taking that in, absorbing it. Maybe I’m being selfish to hope I can share this with someone one day. Maybe no matter what, the nature of what I do makes it impossible for anyone in my life to watch without hating.
‘Then don’t. You don’t need to watch me work to write your article.’
She clamps her lips together, eyes lifting to mine. ‘That’s not what I’m saying—’
I cut her off. ‘I know what you’re saying.
You’re worried this is turning into something neither of us wants.
You’re worried you’re falling for me, despite what we agreed.
You’re worried, just because you hate seeing me ride a bull, that you’re losing your heart.
Worse, that I’m gonna trample all over it, just like Kirk did.
So you’re trying to run away, to hide out, to make sure that doesn’t happen. Am I right?’
Her eyes go wide, her lips too. She nods once.
‘Honey, if caring about me on the back of a bull makes you in love with me, then my family’s all got a weird crush too.’
Her expression shifts, showing a plea.
‘It’s normal for you to feel this way, now you’ve gotten to know and like me.’
She sniffs, glancing sideways. ‘I don’t want to like you.’
I laugh at that. ‘Not even a bit?’
She zips her eyes back to mine. ‘There’s no future here.’ Her tone is defiant, insistent. It’s just what we agreed, but for a second it stings. For a second it feels more like rejection than reinforcement of what we’ve both said. ‘I can’t care about you.’
‘Why can’t both things be true?’
She drops back, shaking her head a little, but I refuse to let this go. ‘Why can’t you care about what happens to me and know that we’re ending this after Arizona?’
She flounders visibly.
‘I care about you too, Bailey. I care about you when you talk about your ballet, your dad, your job, your dreams. When you talk about Washington, and what that desk means to you. I care about you, and I like you.’
Her chin juts defiantly, like it’s the last thing she wants to hear.
I move toward her, putting my hands on her hips, holding her tight, hoping to steady her with the calmness in my voice. ‘I like you, but I see this for what it is.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Fun,’ I say, hoping she doesn’t register the slight hesitation. ‘A chance to spend time with a beautiful, fiercely intelligent, ambitious woman.’
Her eyes scan mine, looking for truth.
‘I can’t let this get out of hand,’ she says resolutely, like she’s one step from pulling away from me. Like I’m not getting through to her and this is over.
My heart quickens. ‘Okay, how ’bout this?’ I say, thinking fast. ‘You’re right. We’ve let this get too big, too fast. We’ve barely had a minute apart since Fort Worth. So, maybe we need some new playing rules, just to be extra safe.’
Her throat shifts delicately as she swallows. ‘I’m listening.’
‘From now on, it’s separate rooms, as well as behind closed doors. Whatever happens in bed between us, that’s it. No more falling asleep together, no more waking up together.’
A tiny crease forms between her brows, like she’s weighing that up.
‘I promised you could trust me, and I meant it. You can trust me, Bailey. You can trust me not to hurt you.’
She expels a long, slow breath. ‘It’s just— My life is so far removed from bull riding, and you’re …’
‘Not looking for anything more than this,’ I cut her off quickly, refusing to wonder what she’s going to say.
The truth is, I’ve spent my adult life running from commitment and relationships, protecting myself from the pain of loss.
I’m damn good at it. Bailey, I realise now, is way less so, despite what she’s been through.
Chalk it up to her big, beautiful heart that she still wants more from me, even after what she’s been through.
I force a smile. ‘Relax, baby. We’ve got this.’
She nods once, but looks far from relaxed, so I do the one thing I know will ease her out of this state.
I kiss her like my life depends on it, like her life depends on it.
I kiss her hard and fast and relish the taste of her against my mouth, thinking there’s probably nothing that feels quite so perfect as her, in this moment.
I hold her body against mine, knowing we have a week left, knowing I’m okay with that—but that I sure as hell don’t want to waste another minute of that week arguing.