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jackson

I was a bundle of nerves. The prospect of taking on Rampage weaseled its way through me. This was really fucking happening. Suddenly all the words I’d said about him just being a bull didn’t feel quite as reassuring.

I stood apart from the others, fussing with the brim of my hat. My lucky hat. I also had on my lucky socks that no one was allowed to know about—they were teal with cows on them. Sure, it was superstitious but I always did better with both. That hat was the only reason I refused to wear a helmet—couldn’t wear both at the same time.

“You’ve got this, cowboy,” West said softly as he came up behind me, catching me by surprise. I expected him to be in the bleachers by now. Maybe it was for the better. His handsome face was a comforting sight.

“I fucking better,” I muttered.

“You do.”

“You sure?”

“You’re Jackson fucking Myles.” His lips quirked slightly at the corner. Why did I adore that so much? “I’m fucking certain that if we racked up the damage you’ve fucking done over the years and put it alongside his, you’d win every fucking time.”

That managed to pull a laugh out of me, and I shook my head.

“All you have to do is go out there and show them how it’s fucking done,” he continued. The confidence in his expression bled through me. If West thought I could do this, then I could fucking do this. “Maybe shout fuck retirement or some shit after eight seconds is up.”

“Jesus fuck,” I replied. “I’m not doing that.”

“Eh, I would. No one’s asking you if you want to retire after tonight.”

“No, they ain’t.” After I rode Rampage for eight fucking seconds, no one would be asking about my fucking retirement. I dropped my hat back on my head. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You can do this,” West agreed. “Just know, I’m over here doing the harder shit by sitting with Birdie all goddamn night.”

I fucking lost it, turning away to try to compose myself. Birdie was a fucking character, and I could only imagine how she was around West—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Toss Me Around Daddy. Just the thought of that had me laughing all over again. Maybe the nerves were getting to me.

“What the fuck are you laughing at over there?” West demanded.

“The fact that she called you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Toss Me Around Daddy the first time she saw you,” I said.

“What the actual fuck?” he demanded. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

“It’s the hairspray.”

The announcer said something that I didn’t catch, but I knew it meant the event was about to start. I closed the distance between us and kissed him briefly. And then again for good luck. I didn’t touch him, hug him, or anything else. His body language was defensive, and I’d take only the kiss he let me have. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Damn straight you will,” West replied gruffly. “Give them hell, cowboy.”

I would.

I watched him disappear, hating the hole his absence left behind. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I had a bull to conquer.

“I’ve got this,” I whispered to myself as I made my way over to join the other riders.