Chapter 37
Miles
Today’s the day, and if I’m being honest, I’m dreading it. It’s been two weeks since that night with Vivian, and everything that happened after—the conversation, the distance, the way it all left me clawing at my insides.
I can’t give you what you want right now…
Miles, we can’t…
This is wrong.
I try to push it all down, but those words keep repeating in my mind, louder and louder, making it harder to focus on anything else.
Every thought keeps circling back to her, to that moment when I told her how I felt and the way she pulled away.
It hurts, but I can’t stop thinking about her, about how real everything felt.
The sound of the crowd fills my ears, but it doesn’t drown out the weight in my chest. I’m in the rodeo arena, waiting for the event to start. I glance over at the seat where Vivian and her family are supposed to be sitting.
Cam stands beside me, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd, but I can feel the weight of the moment in his silence. He’s always been able to read me better than most.
“How you feeling?” he asks, the words soft but heavy, like he already knows the answer.
I don’t look at him, too busy trying to keep the emotions at bay.
“Like fucking shit,” I mutter, the words leaving me before I can stop them.
Cam doesn’t say anything for a second. He just nods, like he gets it.
“You’ve got this,” he says, clapping me on the back. “And as for Vivian…she’ll come around. You’ll see.”
I nod, but it feels like the words are hollow. I don’t know if she will come around. I don’t know if she’ll ever want this.
The sound of someone calling my name pulls me from my thoughts. I look up, my gaze landing on a figure I didn’t expect to see today.
Dahlia.
She’s walking toward me, arms outstretched, that familiar smile on her face.
But something’s off. She’s not dressed the way I remember her, no more plaid shirts and jeans.
Instead, she’s wearing something that screams city life—tight jeans, a sleek jacket, boots that could have walked right out of New York Fashion Week.
I guess the city life changed her carefree small-town style.
Her hair is longer now, lighter. Highlights in the sun, which is something she’s never done before. It makes her look different, but still, I can see her in those eyes—hazel, but with that little glimmer of yellow that always made her stand out.
“Miles!” she calls, her voice high with excitement as she walks toward me, her arms open for a hug.
I feel a jolt of surprise in my chest as I step forward to meet her. “Dahlia,” I say, my voice thick, still processing the fact that she’s here. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
She laughs softly, a sound that feels like home, but there’s a distance in it now. I notice it, just like the absence of the ring on her finger. The emptiness where something was, and it hits me harder than I expect.
I hug her back, feeling the subtle shift in the air between us. The awkwardness is there, something unsaid hanging in the space.
She pulls away, scratching her forehead like she’s trying to play it cool, but I can see it—she’s hiding something.
“Oh, fuck…” I murmur, my words stumbling out as I glance down at her hand. “What happened?”
Her smile falters for a second, but then it’s gone, replaced with something guarded.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, waving off the question like it doesn’t matter.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being around.
I was blinded. But I’m here for a couple of months now. Thought we could catch up.”
I feel that tightness again in my chest, the weight of her words. The way she says “blinded” makes it sound like she’s been through something hard, something I didn’t even know about. I want to ask more, but the words get stuck in my throat.
She glances around, her eyes flicking to the crowd, before looking back at me. “Well, I better get up there.” She gives me a quick, tight hug, pulling me in closer. “Good luck, Miles.” Her voice softens. “Please be careful.”
“Was that Dahlia?” Cam’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, his eyes wide with surprise.
I’m left standing there, a jumble of emotions crashing into me. Confusion. Concern. “Yeah,” I mutter, rubbing my jaw, still trying to process everything that just happened. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is the fiancé around?” he asks, though his tone is flat. He doesn’t care about the details.
I shake my head, still processing. “No fiancé anymore. She’s sticking around for a couple of months, though.”
Cam nods slowly, his smirk returning for the first time in a while. It’s that kind of smirk that says he knows something I don’t.
“Guess that’s something,” he says, his gaze wandering back to the crowd, his attention already shifting.
I turn my attention back to the crowd, the noise of the arena slowly growing louder in my ears. There’s no time for distractions. Not now. The competition’s coming up fast, and I can’t afford to lose focus. Not today.
I have to concentrate. Get my head in the game and do this
But then I see her. Vivian.
She’s standing in the stands, sunlight catching the edges of her hair, Riley’s small hand tucked safely in hers.
Something inside me eases at the sight of them.
Mindy and Greg flank her, Mya’s laughing with John and Maria, Dahlia’s waving like a maniac, and even Eric showed up. But my eyes stay on her. Always her.
A wave of warmth rushes over me, but it’s more than that, it’s something deeper. The love, the loyalty, the unwavering support that radiates from them. It’s something I never had before. Not like this.
The crowd is buzzing, but it doesn’t compare to the quiet strength I feel from them. I can hear their voices, the calls, the cheers from all around me, but in this moment, it’s only them I care about. The people who mean the most.
I tear my eyes away, pushing back the emotions building in my chest. The nerves, the pressure…everything. It’s all rushing in, but I have to shove it all down. I focus on the competition ahead.
I shake it off.
I’m up next.
I line up in the arena, the roar of the crowd blending with the sound of the announcer. I’m standing next to Noah Montero—my biggest competition. His cocky grin is enough to make anyone want to punch him, but I can’t focus on that. I can’t let him distract me.
The cheerleaders’ routine fills the air, bright colors flashing as they move to the beat of “Thunderstruck.” It’s almost ironic, the way the song seems to energize the crowd, pumping everyone up for the ride that’s about to happen.
“Good luck, Sanchez,” Noah says, his voice dripping with arrogance.
“You too,” I reply, flat and focused, my gaze already fixed on Vivian and Riley.
Riley’s holding up a pink, glittery poster that reads WE LOVE CRAZY BULL RIDER MILES!
The words, though simple, hit me like a ton of bricks.
My chest tightens, my throat constricting as I wave back at her, seeing her tiny hands flailing with excitement.
The sight of them, the sight of her, grounds me.
I blink, swallowing back the emotion that wants to break free. I can’t afford to break now.
I turn back, shaking it off.
I feel a pat on my back. It’s Cam. “You’ve got this,” he says, his voice steady, but I can feel the concern in his eyes.
I nod, giving him a tight smile before turning back to the bull.
Six competitors have come and gone. Now, it’s me versus Noah. And I know it’s going to be tough. He’s been training hard. He’s a tough one to beat this year, and deep down, I’m nervous.
Noah’s up. His bull bolts out of the gate like a wild animal, thrashing and kicking in every direction. Noah doesn’t flinch. He grips the rope tighter, using every ounce of strength to stay on, working with the bull’s movements, not against them. He’s a damn good rider.
I watch as he hangs on, determined, until the buzzer sounds. He’s done it. Better than the last four riders, hands down.
He dismounts in a blur of energy, sprinting back to his post, punching the air, roaring with triumph. The crowd goes wild, but the adrenaline doesn’t quite hit me yet. My heart’s pounding, and the nerves I’ve been keeping at bay come crashing back.
It’s my turn now.
I walk up to the bull. The camera flashes. The crowd’s noise drowns out everything else. My stomach flips as I climb onto the bull. I can feel the eyes on me, the pressure of the moment, but it’s nothing new.
I wave to the crowd, clapping along to the beat as the announcers hype up the moment, talking about how many competitions I’ve won. The usual spiel. The same damn questions.
And then I hear it.
“Go, crazy bull rider!”
Riley’s voice.
It’s like everything slows down. I turn my head, catching a glimpse of her, that sweet little face full of joy, her little arms raised as she cheers me on. It hits me like a rush of warmth, like a jolt of electricity. I smile despite myself, the soft tension of the moment melting away.
I focus.
The gate bursts open. The bull charges out with a force that makes the ground shake beneath me.
I grab the rope, using every ounce of strength to stay on. My heart’s pounding in my chest, my mind working in overdrive, counting the seconds in my head—five seconds, six, seven…
The bull’s a beast. He bucks and twists, tossing me left and right. I’m holding on, fighting for every second.
The crowd is a distant hum, my heart thundering in my chest as I try to stay in control. I dig in, using every muscle to stay on.
And then, in an instant, everything goes wrong.
The bull bucks harder, throwing me off with a brutal force. I fly through the air, my body twisting, crashing down—
Everything goes black.
Pitch black.
The world stops.
I don’t feel the pain. I don’t feel anything at all.