Page 56 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

FORT WORTH

who says it first

To say that last night was awful would be underselling it.

Kai was in surgery for four hours. During that time, almost every single bull rider had shown up and camped out in the parking lot to await an update.

Georgia was a mess—their relationship was still so new she didn’t know what to do, and of course it ended up being the first time she’d met Kai’s mother.

The news we got once he was out of surgery wasn’t great.

Apparently, the soft tissue damage was immense.

They cut some of the scarring away and are hopeful that, with enough rehab after the cast comes off, he’ll be able to be back to full range of motion.

But they said it could take up to a year to get to that point.

Which meant that he’d probably be out for the entirety of next season.

That knowledge gutted everyone, but especially Jesse.

We were up until two in the morning working through his complicated feelings.

Kai’s injury means that Jesse moved up to first place.

Of course this isn’t how things were supposed to happen, and getting first because someone else could no longer compete was making him feel like he hadn’t earned it. Like he doesn’t deserve it.

He informed me that, after Kai had woken up and he went in to speak with him, Kai told him that if it were to go to anyone, he was glad it was him.

Kai wants Jesse to take home that buckle.

And I mean, yeah, that’s definitely motivation and will give Jesse the fire he needs to finish out this season, but it obviously doesn’t make it any easier.

And to make matters a little more complicated, I was receiving requests and questions from other media outlets who were finally showing an interest in bull-riding and are trying to cover it now that it’s becoming more well-known.

Everyone wants to be the first to cover Kai’s injury and make that report, to try and get ahead and take advantage of the momentum I created, not to toot my own horn.

Alicia and I had been trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

Yes, other news outlets will push others out of a story to get the best for themselves, but we also didn’t want to risk tainting our reputation—but Alicia also didn’t want this to be taken away from me, either.

So when Kai told me he wanted to give me a statement and not talk to any other reporters, he made our decision for us.

I was up after Jesse and I had talked, working on my press release while he slept, his head-on my thighs just above my knees, my laptop resting in my lap as the television had hummed quietly.

And the thing is, I don’t remember falling asleep.

But when I awake a few hours later, I’m laying in bed, covered by the blanket, my laptop on my nightstand.

I rub my eyes as I sit up and realize I’m alone, but I see a note waiting for me on the spare pillow.

If you’ll let me, I’ll give you all the love you don’t believe you deserve.

I smile to myself and sit up, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes before I swing my legs over the bed and slip my feet into my slippers. Walking around the foot of the bed, I see that Jesse has already put a K Cup in the Keurig for me, a mug sitting under it waiting to be filled.

Little moments like these made it so much harder not to fall for Jesse Hayes.

The gentle, reassuring touches he’d give me whenever he noticed I was overwhelmed, the way he always took interest whenever he walked in on me working on an article, being aware of what flowers I like most based off the reactions I’d give him, the way he noticed the order I use my face products, the notes, knowing my coffee order, they all mean more to me than those large moments.

Yes, him protecting me and standing up for me will always make my heart soar, but those quiet gestures that are just for me, to show he cares about me and isn’t doing it for show, are the ones that let me know how he feels about me.

And I know that Jesse Hayes is in love with me, even if he hasn’t said it to me yet.

At this point, it’s just a matter of who says it first.

Because I have, without a doubt, fallen in love with my favorite bull rider.

The arena is even more packed than it was yesterday.

According to the arena guys, they even sold out of standing room only tickets, which is the first time that’s happened in almost twenty years.

Bryce has become the one who paces before his rides, having a tough time coping with his difficult season.

This is the first time he hasn’t been in the top ten heading into the ride for redemption, and he claims if he has to compete in those two days, he’s just going to forfeit—not that we believe him, but we’ll see.

Wyatt moves up to fifteenth with a perfect ride on Titan, and Lee moves up to sixteenth.

Stetson ends up keeping his spot in ninth, more than happy with that outcome if his evident relief was any indication.

Bryce, on the other hand, slips from twenty-fourth to twenty-fifth and refuses to be interviewed by anyone.

Rylie has been a godsend throughout the finals; having to interview every rider in the top twenty-five after their rides every single day would’ve probably killed me.

Being able to tag-team it like we have been has made the process go a lot smoother, although the write-ups at the end of the night were a bitch and a half with so many notes and transcripts to run through.

Thanks to Bryce declining an interview, I’m able to stand with Rylie in the tunnel and watch Jesse ride.

He’s back on Doze You Down, who is rumored to be one of the bulls selected for the championship rounds.

Per usual, I find myself nervous as I watch him climb on, especially after his injury.

I know he says he’s been feeling better, but after what happened to Kai, I know that anything can happen at any time, and the riders have very little control.

But I should’ve known that Jesse had it in the bag.

His ride seems to be over as quickly as it started, those eight seconds flying by as he expertly rode the all brown bull.

He lands in the dirt, stumbling a bit and falling on his knees with his eyes on me.

With his hat in his hand, he waves in my direction as he pushes himself back up on his feet before blowing me a kiss.

There’s a very audible “aww” from the women in the arena that has a soft blush rising to my cheeks.

“Go interview your man,” Rylie says, bumping her shoulder into mine.

“But it’s your turn.”

She grins. “Technically, it’s yours. I interviewed last.”

Instead of arguing, rather than pointing out that maybe the woman he’s now confirmed to be in, well, something with might not be able to stay objective, I turn and take off at a light jog down the hall, the heels of my boots echoing on the cement floor as I make a beeline around the corner.

He’s already leaning against the wall with a small smirk, his arms folded over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. He flashes me a wink as I slow my approach, that tint on my cheeks from earlier deepening.

God, I can’t believe I’ve become the kind of girl who blushes like this. It’s gross.

Kind of.

“Hey there, Pretty Boy,” I greet, flipping open my notepad. “Think you can handle an interview with me? It’s been a while.”

“I can handle anything you throw my way, Sweetheart.” He says it with a sultry undertone, one that causes very dirty thoughts to float through my mind.

I shake my head, trying to clear the lust-fog he’s attempting to induce, and pull my favorite pen out from behind my ear.

“I’ve been talking to everyone today about how it’s been riding the day after knowing that one of your own can no longer compete, but if it’s too hard for you to talk about, we can skip that. ”

“No, it’s fine.” He takes a deep breath, rubbing his beard.

“It’s never easy when someone gets hurt, but it’s even harder this late in the season.

Since I’ve been competing, we’ve never had someone in the first spot get injured and have to drop out like that.

It messes with your head, for sure. Especially for me, kind of like we talked about last night, him dropping out means I’m now in first, and that thought is hard to wrap my head around. ”

I nod, jotting down a couple key words before reconnecting our gazes.

“But the thing that makes it easier is knowing that I’m now doing this for him.

I’m here to get that golden buckle for him now.

He deserves it more than anyone here, so I’m using that to drive me forward and do whatever I can to make sure I can bring it home for him. ”

“You put a fifteen-point gap between you and Carson today. Does that bring you any kind of comfort heading into your last ride tomorrow?”

“Yes and no.” He shrugs, taking his hat off and running a hand through his hair before placing it back atop his messy waves.

“It does give me a little bit of leniency, which can be helpful, but a bad ride for me and a good one for him could mean him kicking me out of first position. We obviously don’t want that. ”

“Obviously.” We smile at each other, unable to tear our gazes away. It’s like I’m constantly finding myself sucked into his eyes, and when they darken, all the other questions I was going to ask him evaporate into thin air. “Do you want to get out of here?”

He laughs, kicking himself off the wall to close the gap between us. His hands land on my hips, and he pulls me in, our bodies flush together. “Yeah, Sweetheart. I really, really do.”

Half an hour later, after asking Rylie to finish up the last couple of interviews for me and saying goodbye to the boys, we find ourselves in his hotel room.

We’re frantically tearing at each other’s clothes, trying to undress the other as quickly as possible.

There’s a desperation to our movements that we haven’t had in a while, and while I know why I feel this way—we’re just at that point in the month where I find myself extra needy—I can’t quite figure out why he is.

Not that I’m exactly trying that hard.

I give his chest a shove, watching as he sits on the edge of the bed.

I’m on my knees and between his legs, my right hand wrapping around his length as I take him into my mouth.

He moans loudly, and I look up at him under my lashes to see his head tipped back and his eyes closed, his hands braced behind him on the mattress to keep him upright.

My hand and mouth move in tandem, sliding up and down the length of him while my tongue presses against the vein on his underside. When I hollow out my cheeks his breath hitches, his hands fisting the sheets.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he groans, the sound only turning me on more. “That feels so fucking good. Your mouth is perfect.”

Normally, those words would spur me on and make me want to get him off this way, but I want him more than I can ever put into words.

I ache for him in a way I never have for anyone else before.

I want him to claim me, to bury himself so far inside me that I’ll never be able to discern where I end and he begins.

The intensity of these emotions would normally make me run for the hills, but nothing has ever felt more right than it does right now, being here with him.

I lift my mouth off him with a satisfying pop, slowly rising to my feet.

Reaching out my hand, I keep it palm side up, and a second later, he’s leaning forward, sliding his calloused one into my own.

I turn so it’s my back facing the bed. Ever so slowly, I lower myself onto it, scooting upward so I’m laying on my back in the middle of the mattress.

Keeping my eyes on his, I slowly spread my legs, my knees bent and heels digging into the mattress, exposing my bare pussy.

His eyes flutter for a moment, a quiet moan slipping past his lips.

“Come here,” I whisper, crooking a finger at him. “I want to see your eyes this time. I want to watch you while you fuck me.”

“You will be the death of me, Faith Thompson.” He kneels on the bed and hovers over me, one hand beside my head and the other slowly skimming up my side. “But it’s a death I would happily welcome.”

He dips his head and captures my lips with his own.

My arms wrap around the back of his neck, one hand working into his hair as the one roaming my side slips between us.

A second later, I feel his tip pressing against my entrance, and my breath stutters as he pushes into me.

We’re both breathing heavily, our pants mingling as his forehead rests on my own.

But this isn’t like every other time we’ve had sex. It’s slower. Softer. Our gazes never leave one another, our kisses longer, gentler. It’s every single thing we’ve ever felt being acknowledged and accepted.

It’s two people coming together with no intent of ever letting go.

And when we both reach our climaxes only seconds apart, I know that this is how it’s meant to be for the rest of my life.

Jesse lies on his back, one hand behind his head and the other wrapped around me as I lay with my head-on his chest. There’s so many things I want to say, questions I want to ask him.

But more than anything, I want to tell him how I really feel.

But just as that thought crosses my mind, the fear of admitting that to him ebbing away, his soft snoring reaches my ears.

And as I find myself drifting off in his arms, I tell myself that tomorrow will be the day I tell Jesse Hayes I love him.