Page 8 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)
Rylie stares at me for a moment, so I turn my attention to the approaching bartender and ask for a refill.
I had only been in the office once since I took this assignment, and Adam made it a point to step into my office and try to get me to walk away and find something else.
“It’s too embarrassing for us,” he had said.
“There are such better things we could be doing.” As if there was still a ‘we’ to be considering.
The worst part of our breakup wasn’t the walking in on him sleeping with someone else—though, in the moment, it was absolutely devastating—or even having to tell people.
It was how he twisted it to be my fault somehow, and how he made me feel like I was crazy for feeling the way I was.
And because of how upset I was, I believed him.
My therapist made me see how just absurd it was for him to make his cheating my fault and I grew from that.
Once that happened? Adam sensed the shift.
I went from the broken girl who wanted him back to the woman who was unwilling to compromise my heart and my needs for a man who couldn’t even give me the bare minimum.
But he said certain things that I haven’t been able to shake. Ones I still believe to be true.
“You’re here next weekend, right?”
“Yup.” She smiles as the bartender sets our refills in front of us. “I’ll be there for Indianapolis, but I’ll be busy covering hockey while you’re in Jacksonville.”
I nod as I take a sip. “Do you know who will be covering your team and going with me?”
“I don’t have the slightest clue.” My face must give me away because she hastily says, “But I doubt Alicia will send your team. She’s been adamant about not doing so. There’s other teams available, so don’t sweat it.” Suddenly, a sly grin covers her face. “Alright. Spill it.”
“Spill what?”
Rylie leans forward so she can keep her voice low, even though there’s no way anyone can hear us over the music. “Who do you think is the hottest bull rider?”
A surprised laugh escapes me as I pull back, bringing the bottle to my lips. My gaze drifts to the dance floor in search of all the riders—yup, not one in particular—but none of them are in sight. Turning my attention back to my nosy friend, I see she’s staring at me, waiting for an answer.
“I’m not answering that,” I tell her through a laugh of disbelief. She just raises a brow. “I said no, Ry. No way.”
“Since you asked,” she starts, her smile growing larger as she crosses one leg over the other and rests her elbows on them, “Stetson is my pick.”
I can’t stop my chuckle. “You don’t say.”
“Jesse is yours, isn’t he?” The glass neck rests against my lips for a split second before I take a drink, and that split second was one second too long. “Oh my god, he is!” She sits up a little straighter, her focus on something behind me. “Speak of the devil.”
“You wear that dress like it was made for you,” that all too familiar voice whispers in my ear.
I turn around to look at him and am surprised to see that his eyes are glassy. How on earth could he be this drunk already? He’s only been gone twenty minutes. His smile is light and easy, but his eyes are piercing into mine like he’s hyper-focused, hanging on to every single word I might say.
I glance down at my outfit: a black short-sleeved shirt and dark red dress pants, before I reconnect our gazes. “I’m not wearing a dress.”
“Shit,” he grumbles, squeezing his way between Rylie and me to rest his elbow on the bars ledge, his body turned toward mine. “You’ll have to forgive me, Sweetheart. I only have about three pickup lines in my arsenal.”
“Ah.” I can’t stop the chuckle from escaping me. “So you’ve never had to work for a woman’s attention, then.”
He shrugs, leaning into me slightly. “Not until now, no.”
“Sure you want to work for mine?”
Jesse’s expression is unreadable and I have to fight every instinct not to squirm in my seat. His eyes are boring into mine, almost like he’s searching for something. What? I don’t know. But the way his attention is making me feel? I might give it to him if he’d only ask.
“Sweetheart, yours is the only one I want.”
Don’t you dare blush, Faith. Keep it together.
“I know I’ve been an ass,” he says after he realizes I’m not going to respond. I’d sound like an idiot if I did, that’s for sure. Words have left me. “I swear we aren’t all like this.”
“Bull riders or men in general?”
He straightens at my question and I can’t help but be in slight awe of how he’s acting and his speech when I can smell the booze coming off him. If it weren’t for his eyes, I probably wouldn’t know he was drunk right now. I’m actually kind of jealous. When I’m drunk, you know it.
“Well, shit. I was going to say bull riders, but—” He abruptly stops, his brows furrowing as he studies my face before his expression softens. He reaches out a hand and cups my cheek and I swear my heart bottoms out as my breath hitches in surprise. “It’s not all men, Sweetheart. Trust me.”
Just as quickly as his hand was there, it’s gone, and he’s slipping back into the crowd.
I turn to Rylie with a confused expression, only to see one already gracing her face.
A startled laugh escapes me, which makes her start laughing, too, and soon we’re both in a fit of giggles. Once we settle down, she leans into me.
“What was that?”
“Fuck if I know,” I tell her as I shrug. “Drunk ramblings, I guess.”
As if to prove my point, just as the music starts to quiet down to transition into the next song, I see Jesse’s head over the crowd as he kneels on a barstool.
He points at me, which causes the people around him to look in my direction before he cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “I’m going to marry you one day! ”
Someone pulls him off the stool so he disappears from my line of sight, the crowds murmuring vanishing as the music picks back up.
I feel a smile tugging at my lips that I force away before looking back at Rylie.
She’s got a swoony smile on her face, her hand on her heart as she stares at the space where he had just been.
“Something tells me he means it.”
Grabbing my beer, I down the rest before telling her, “And that right there might be a problem.”