16. Avery
SIXTEEN
Avery
I inhale through my nose, my chest expanding as the smell of popcorn, dirt, manure, and saddle leather assail my senses.
They cling to the warm air, throwing me back in time to when I was sixteen, and we’d spend our summer nights watching cowboys get thrown around, giggling as the riders showboated.
Music blares from the speakers; it’s something country with a hard twang, but I don’t recognize it. The lights are bright but mainly pointed toward the arena, and as we walk in, food stalls line either side of the main concourse.
Gracie grabs my hand and takes off toward the stands. “Come on, Ave, we need a good spot before the bronc riding starts.”
I can’t contain my smile, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. It’s been far too long since I last felt this free. There’s a familiarity to the rodeo that almost makes it easier to forget the ache that's been sitting on my chest since the BBQ.
The arena’s buzzing, a comfort to the chaos. Everybody’s here; the men—as well as some of the women—are dressed in their best denim and boots, ready to have a good time. But with the summer heat, I’ve opted to pair my boots with a light floral summer dress that stops mid-thigh.
The stands are starting to fill out, but Gracie manages to snag us an empty bleacher, and we spread out into the seats.
Autumn passes out bottles of ice-cold beer before taking a seat next to Olivia at the far end of the bleacher. “Here’s to rodeo night,” she squeals, raising her bottle and tapping it to anyone within reach.
Kade groans, rolling his eyes but clinks his against hers anyway. “You say that like we won’t be coming back next week, or for the rest of the…”
His words trail off, and he huffs out a breath, handing his beer to Olivia. I follow his line of sight and see Wyatt by the fencing in a heated exchange with Deacon Hart. Reed follows Kade, muttering something under his breath about how he only came for a good time, not to break up a stupid fight.
Wyatt throws his arms wide, stepping closer to Deacon until they are practically chest to chest. I can’t make out what’s being said, but within seconds, Maddie Hart steps between them, pushing Wyatt away as best she can before turning toward her brother.
Kade and Reed lead a frustrated Wyatt back to the seats, being sure to keep behind him in case he tries to chase after Deacon.
It wouldn’t be the first time. Their rivalry runs deep.
It doesn’t take long for the buzz of excitement to return to the crowd, and with the sun sitting low on the horizon, I savor how normal I feel. Like, maybe being back home was the best thing for me.
The thought has barely left my mind when a fan approaches. Maybe my wishful thinking jinxed me.
“Oh my God, it’s really you. Can we get a picture?”
I shift in my seat, a practiced smile pulling at my mouth. “Hi. Sure, you wanna do it down by the fence?”
Her eyes widen like she didn’t expect me to agree. “If that’s okay? My mom’s in the third row.”
Standing, I straighten my dress and follow her down the steps, asking for her name and if she’s ever been to the rodeo.
I pose for pictures with ease, chatting with some of my fans and reminiscing about old times before the fame.
It feels different from when I get approached in Nashville.
It’s calmer, and there’s less pressure to be anything but myself.
There isn’t time to linger on the thought though, because the show kicks off with barrel racing, and I head back to my seat.
In the arena, there’s a blur of dust and hooves to the soundtrack of the crowd cheering.
The energy is all-consuming and doesn’t leave space to think of anything other than what is taking place in front of us.
At least until I feel him .
Grayson .
Something in the air shifts; just enough to set my body on alert and raise the hairs on my arms. I feel his presence like a storm quietly rolling in, filled with pressure.
I glance sideways, my need to seek him out stronger than my will to ignore him. He’s climbing the steps, his Stetson pulled low and his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, revealing the corded muscles in his forearms.
When he reaches our row, he nods to his brothers before taking the only empty seat. The one next to me. I force my attention back to the arena, my heart pounding in my chest, so loud I’m certain he can hear it.
Neither of us speaks, and he doesn’t acknowledge me.
Given how he left me in the barn, it shouldn’t surprise me.
But I’m hyperaware of him. I can feel his body heat like I’m standing next to the sun.
He smells like an intoxicating mix of cedar wood, dust, and warmth; like home and heartbreak wrapped in a bow.
We’re close enough to touch, and once, that would have been all it took to set us off.
There was never patience or boundaries between us; we were reckless, obsessed, and completely wrapped up in each other from the time we turned fourteen.
But we’re not those kids anymore . I don’t even think he likes me now, not after the way he left me in the barn. My Grayson would’ve never done that.
The next event starts, and I try to refocus my attention.
Every muscle in my body is aware of Grayson beside me, and I’m scared that if I relax, I’ll make a fool of myself by doing something stupid like trying to ask him what the hell happened in the barn.
A rider vaults from the chute, and the crowd roars, the sound crashing into me like a cold wave.
Two girls approach, urging each other on as they climb the steps, their focus on me. The younger of the two steps forward, briefly looking back at the other as they hover slightly behind.
“Miss Blake, can I get your autograph?”
I lean forward, reaching for my clutch and praying that I have a pen. “Sure, honey. What’s your name?”
She shuffles on her feet, and if at all possible, her smile stretches wider. “Daisy.”
I scrunch my nose up, twisting my mouth. “No way, that’s my mama’s name.”
Daisy lets out a squeal of delight, turning toward her friend, her smile just as big.
I rummage through my purse, coming up empty before a pen appears in my line of vision.
Surprise renders me speechless as I look at Grayson, who’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tense.
I take the pen as if he might snatch it away at any moment.
I use the napkin Daisy holds out to me and scrawl my signature across it before handing it back to her. “Who’s your friend?” I ask, leaning forward.
“That’s my sister, Tabitha. She’s not as big a fan as I am,” Daisy says, puffing her chest out.
“Hey, I’m telling Mom you lied.” Tabitha holds out her own napkin, and I duck my head to hide my grin. When they’re both armed with their signed napkins, they rush off, excitedly squealing as they race back to the third row.
I shift in my seat, trying not to look at Gray. Of course my body betrays me, seeking him out. His jaw is tight, and his brow furrowed. Although he keeps his eyes forward, the drumming of his fingers on his denim-clad thigh tells me he might not be as immune to my presence as I thought.
“Rumor has it Banks is going to return to the arena next year,” Kade shouts to Wyatt, who only raises his brows in return, his focus somewhere in the crowd. If I had to guess, he’s trying to burn a hole into the back of Deacon’s head.
Reed wraps his arm around Gracie, and she snuggles into his shoulder. “You cold?”
She lifts her gaze to his, resting her hand on his chest as she shakes her head before settling back. Is something going on between them? I mentally kick myself for not asking sooner, sure I noticed how close they were at family dinner and the BBQ, but I should have asked Gracie.
I can’t quite make out what Autumn and Olivia are talking about, but they both bolt up as the rider heads for the gate, hooting and hollering just like they used to when we’d come to the rodeo back in high school.
Wyatt stands, stretching his back out. “Y’all want anything from concessions?”
Reed and Kade reply in unison. “Beer, please.”
I clear my throat, praying my words come out strong and clear. “One for me too.”
Grayson stands, and my stomach twists. It feels like I’ve failed a test. “I need to speak to the sponsor rep. I’ll go with you.” His voice is rough and controlled.
I watch as Grayson and Wyatt amble down the stairs before they disappear from view. It’s only then that I allow myself to breathe, the crowd around me falling back into focus.
Gracie moves to sit next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. “You okay?”
Isn’t that the million-dollar question?
Will I ever be okay if seeing him affects me like this? Should I take his advice and leave town, pretend that nothing happened between us? The thought sends a sharp pain through my chest, robbing me of air.
No . I’m staying. I’m done running away.
If Grayson doesn’t want to talk to me or have anything to do with me, that’s fine. But I’m not going anywhere. At least for now . We’ll have no choice but to see each other.
I smile tightly and squeeze Gracie’s hand. “I’m fine.”
Autumn’s gaze burns under my skin, and I dart a look over to her. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.
I give her a lopsided smile to tell her it’s okay. None of what’s happened between me and Grayson is anyone’s fault but our own.
By the time the last ride finishes and the announcer has thanked the sponsors—Wild Heartlands Ranch included—the stands have begun to clear. It’s dark now, the floodlights from the arena blocking out the stars, but I know they’re there. They always are.
I trail behind the last of the Wilde clan, lost in my own thoughts and the lyrics that aren’t quite clear enough to capture but have been hovering on the outskirts of my mind all morning.
When we reach the parking lot, the hush that follows the chaos of the rodeo settles around us.
Suddenly, the distance we are from town doesn’t just exist, but I feel it as I watch people head for their vehicles.
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I weigh up my options. I could ask Olivia and Autumn for a ride, but they’re heading in the opposite direction. I’d have asked Reed and Gracie, but they’re already gone. I don’t fancy being the third—or fifth—wheel with Kade, Wyatt, and the women they’ve picked up.
I pull my phone out, resigned to seeing if I can call a ride.
It’s not like Coldwater is teeming with Uber drivers, and given the late hour, I’d rather not wake my parents.
They dropped me off, but asking them to come out now feels like too much, especially when Mama is always in bed by 9pm and forces Dad to do the same.
“If you need a ride, I’ll take you home.”
Startled, I turn toward Grayson. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t offer up more than that; instead, he heads in the direction of his truck, leaving me to follow.
When Grayson opens the passenger door for me, I hesitate, glancing up at him. In the dark, his eyes are unreadable, but I can’t help but think I’m reading too much into this.
It’s just a ride .
But nothing about us ever feels simple.
I climb into the cab without a word, pretending I can’t feel the weight of our mistakes between us.