Chapter Eleven #2

“I think you’re right, and I think the thought that our relationship should’ve ended long before it did makes me a little angry and honestly a little sad for past me.

” These were things I’d dwelled on for a while now, but listening to her talk about how I was just trying to check boxes must’ve struck a chord.

“Don’t let it. Everything happens for a reason, and you can’t dwell on what didn’t happen.

But that does give you more of a reason to live in the present in whatever manner you choose.

If that means you want to pine over a good-looking cowboy who also plays a guitar and sings great songs, then so be it,” she said.

She was right.

Again.

“Damn you.”

Her eyebrow arched as I snuck my body in between her barstool and another one that was occupied next to it, leaning over the bar in my best attempt to get the bartender’s attention.

“What can I get you two?”

“Two Fireball shots, please. Thank you, Liam,” I said.

“Okay. Damn. If I knew a little pep talk was all you needed, I would’ve done that a long time ago.” Maggie crossed her long legs and started her own scan of the room.

“You can’t move on if you’re standing still, right?” I asked.

I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d made it sound, but I had been truthful when I told her I was trying. And if I had any chance of moving on and in the right direction, I had to at least keep going.

“Here you go, ladies. This one’s on him,” he said, pointing to the end of the bar.

My eyes instinctively followed his finger before realizing who he was pointing to.

The cocky expression, the ocean-blue eyes, and the crooked smile staring back at me was a gut punch of adrenaline I wasn’t prepared for. So much so that it forced me to take another breath because I was sure my last one had been stolen.

I couldn’t let him see that though.

A smug smile quickly galloped across my face before I casually turned back to the bar.

I dipped my head low, swiping the shot glass from the counter and pouring it down the back of my throat while holding my hat steady on my head. “Shit.” I swallowed.

Maggie tugged on my shoulder. “Did you just take that shot without me?”

“I’m sorry. I had no choice,” I said, covertly motioning to Stetson behind me.

“Oh,” she said, slightly leaning her body to the right, peering past me. “I see the dilemma.”

“I think I’ve forgotten how to flirt,” I admitted. “That man simply looked at me and I’m fairly confident I would’ve done whatever he asked without a single shred of hesitation.”

“Or maybe you’re just tryin’ to skip the flirting part and get straight into the saddle for a ride.” She shrugged her shoulders, grabbing the other shot glass and flinging it back. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Yeah.” I dragged out the word, doubt cushioning my tone. “Maybe that’s it.”

Our giggles filled the space between us.

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful, and thankfully so. I was grateful that the heart to heart happened before the buzz got too thick and we’d gotten all the tears out at the beginning. I’d been repeating Maggie’s words throughout the night, hoping some of them would stick.

A few people had stopped to congratulate me on the article, which was nice but still had me feeling like a fish out of water.

The night was winding down, and I couldn’t decide if I was happy about it or a little disappointed, but before I could figure it out, I spotted Wilson.

“Wilson!” I shouted, the buzz circulating around my body, making me feel feathery.

“Scarlett, darlin’, I’ve been trying to wrangle you all night.” Wilson’s low voice was hard to hear with all the commotion surrounding us.

“I know, I’m so sorry!”

“Oh gosh. Don’t you be sorry. You deserve to be riding this high.” He grinned, folding his big arms over his chest. “And you look good doing it.” He reached for the tip of my hat.

“Thank you, Wilson. You didn’t have to get me this”—I rubbed my hand across the brim—“but selfishly I’m really glad you did. It’s beautiful.”

“Don’t mention it. You made this old man very happy, and I’m grateful for you. It’s the least I could do. But enough about that, or you’re gonna make me cry, and cowboys don’t cry, remember?”

I nodded and pulled him into a big hug, my arms wrapping tightly around his chest.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he whispered as he squeezed me a bit tighter. “Now go enjoy the rest of your night. Maybe find yourself a cowboy to take home.” He winked.

“Wilson!” I screeched.

He chuckled and walked off.

But maybe I should?

My buzz had grown and was taking advantage of my already fuzzy emotions, giving me the courage I needed to approach said cowboy.

I scoured the bar looking for Maggie, spotting her near the jukebox with Booker. The live band had since dismantled, and all of us stragglers were relying on the tunes of whoever fed the machine.

“Copperhead Road” was ending as I found Stetson, still sitting at the edge of the bar with a glass of dark liquor in one hand.

The butterflies rattled in their cage as I navigated through the crowd of people who were leaving the dance floor, losing sight of him but finding a surge of excitement with every step I took.

The sea of people cleared and with it, so did my confidence.

It was like when you got bucked off a horse, and for that split second while you were midair, everything around you just stopped.

Your adrenaline was pulsing through every single one of your veins at the speed of light and it all felt just barely out of reach.

The horse. The ground. All of it. And the churning in your stomach made you terrified of what came next, but you had no choice other than to grin and bear it.

Well, here I was, grinning down and bearing it.

The familiar tune of Keith Whitley’s “When You Say Nothing at All” hummed through the speakers as my eyes caught Stetson leaning into a short, blonde-haired girl who had squeezed her body into the tiny space between his legs and his barstool.

His mouth was nestled close to her ear and moving slowly as she let out a fake giggle.

He stood, only a few feet away from where I was, reaching his hand out for her, twirling her around just enough so I could catch a glimpse.

Delilah.

My mind was spinning just as fast as the women on the dance floor. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

And then, Stetson looked up, right at me.

Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t fake this one. I swiftly shifted to the right, dropped my head, and walked past both of them and right out the back door.

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