Page 34 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

ALBUQUERQUE

more scrambled than eggs

Sweetheart

Thank you for understanding. You’re a good friend.

Friend. That word has haunted me since she sent that text four days ago.

I haven’t been able to stop looking at it, hoping that if I stare at the words long enough, they’ll eventually change.

But much to my distaste, they have stayed the same.

I debated about responding for hours, pacing a hole in the floor of my living room as I tried to come up with a response.

Unfortunately, nothing good came to mind, and then the acceptable length of time to respond to a text had passed me by.

I had thought about reacting to it, giving it a heart or something, just so she didn’t feel like I was ignoring her, but that truthfully seemed worse than not responding.

So now here I am, pacing a hole into the floor at the arena instead, waiting for her to show up so we can talk.

But truthfully, I almost don’t know if I want to.

I know I made the decision to go to her room—to put my own heart up on the chopping block because I’m that desperate for any piece of her.

Yet I can’t help but feel like it was a mistake.

I’ve been on this never-ending loop of hating myself for letting her do this to me, then being grateful that I still get to have her in an intimate way that no one else does.

Every time I think about walking away or how I’ll never truly have her in the way I want, I find myself sick to my stomach.

My brain has been more scrambled than eggs.

No decision seems to be the right one. No matter what I do I’ll end up with the shit end of the stick.

I either stop our arrangement to protect my own heart, only to have to see her at every competition for the next seven weeks, or we continue to sleep together, and then I never see her again after Arlington.

No matter what, there’s only one finite ending to this.

Me with my heart broken.

And the icing on the already fucked up cake—as if I needed anything more weighing on me—I pulled Goliath for tonight: the meanest, toughest, and hardest bull in the lineup. Because why wouldn’t the universe throw me the impossible when I’m in the worst headspace possible?

Maybe I do need to suck it up and see Faith, after all.

“You okay, Hayes?” Wyatt asks as he exits the locker room.

I guess he might have to do.

“Oh, just peachy.” I stop and turn to face him. “You know, living the dream. Pulled fucking Goliath for tonight, so I’m fantastic.”

He raises a brow, studying me. “Jesse.”

“No, really,” I continue, rambling like the idiot I am. “I’m great. Goliath is going to run me into the ground and tank my score. It’s such a wonderful time.”

“What’s going on?”

My arms begin to flail on their own accord, gesturing wildly, which I’ve never been known to do before.

“What’s going on is that you were right, okay?

” It comes out louder than I intend, but I can’t seem to stop.

“You were right. Are you happy? I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, and I’m too much of a coward to do the smart thing. ”

“I’m confused.” Wyatt takes a step forward as I begin to pace again. I can practically hear Faith telling me that I’m making her dizzy. That thought has me stumbling briefly as he continues to talk. “What was I right about?”

“You know what you were right about,” I snap, stopping momentarily to narrow my eyes on him before I continue. “I can’t walk away even though I know I probably should.”

The sympathetic expression that Wyatt gives me only seems to light a match to the simmering anger I didn’t realize I had. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” I take my hat off and run my hand through my hair before placing it back on my head. “I just need to talk to her and hope that helps.”

“She’s not here.”

Those three words cause the racing thoughts to slow for a moment before I begin to feel lightheaded and clammy. “What did you say?”

“She’s not here,” he repeats, slower this time as if that’s going to help me calm down the anxiety that has started to rush through my veins. “Kai said she had something to take care of and that she wouldn’t be here tonight.”

As if tonight couldn’t get any worse.

“Okay,” I breathe out somewhat shakily. “I’ll just call her. Yeah, that’ll do it.” I pat my pockets only to find them empty, sending me into another panic. “Fuck, where’s my phone?”

“Locker room, probably.” I shake my head, knowing I hadn’t gone there yet. “Kid, you really gotta?—”

“You’re no help,” I tell him, turning to walk toward the chute. “I’ll be fine.”

But to my dislike, he follows me. “Jesse, you can’t go out there like this. If you get on the bull now, nothing good will come of it.”

“I’m not forfeiting,” I say through clenched teeth. “If I forfeit, I might throw all my chances of the top three out the window. I won’t do it.”

“Would you rather slip out of the top three, or run the risk of never being able to ride again?”

I stop a few feet away from the chute as the announcer starts to read off Goliath’s stats. “If I slip out of the top three, I might as well never ride again, anyway. Not sure it matters.”

“Jesse—”

“Are you watching me or not?”

Wyatt and I stare at one another for a moment, his expression worried and unrelenting.

I’m truthfully not sure what I’m reflecting back to him.

Movement behind him catches my eye and I see Kai hesitate, his brows furrowed as he looks between us.

Putting my attention back on my mentor, I hear the announcer begin to introduce me.

“What’s it going to be?”

Wyatt hangs his head. “I can’t watch what I fear is about to happen.”

He turns and walks off without another word, heading down a hallway with an unknown destination.

Kai takes his absence as an invitation to come up to me, and it’s only then that I realize Stetson is with him.

They both give me uneasy smiles before they quickly exchange a glance, having a nonverbal conversation.

“We figured we’d watch you,” Kai says slowly, and if he’d had his hands out toward me, it’d almost feel like he thought I was a wild, cornered animal. “Since Faith can’t be here.”

“Hayes, you’re up.” I turn to see one of the other riders sitting atop the chute, waving me over.

I don’t say anything to the boys as I turn and head over, trying my damndest to calm my breathing.

My hands shake as I climb the rails, swinging my leg over to stare down at the beast I’m set to ride tonight.

I’ve never been nervous to ride, at least not like this.

I struggle to get my hand into my glove, my sweaty palm making the material difficult to slide on.

But once I do, I cautiously drop down onto Goliath’s back.

He’s slamming his sides into the bars, my legs getting caught with the movement.

I slip my hand into the rope and begin to tighten it when I risk a glance upward.

My eyes scan the crowd and the platform, looking in Faith’s usual spots in hopes that it was some cruel joke—that she’d be here to support me like she has been since that second week.

But much to my disappointment, I don’t spot a head of curly blonde hair.

I sigh and shake my head, and all too quickly, I realize my mistake.

Because the man arming the door thought I was giving him the go-ahead, and Goliath is tearing out of the chute before my hand is properly secure.

All it takes is one lurch and a twist of his body to have me sliding sideways, my thighs tightening in an attempt to stay on. But then he’s bucking, and when his back legs hit the ground, he twists again, and this time I lean the wrong way.

I land in the dirt with a painful thud, the wind getting knocked out of me. Those precious seconds cost me, because the last thing I see is Goliath’s hooves coming toward me quicker than I can roll away.

And the last thought that goes through my mind before my vision goes dark is, well, I guess it’s a good thing Faith wasn’t here.