Page 10 of Maverick (The Bull Riders #3)

He watches. And I do get a good time, but I don’t break any records, and it puts me just out of placement for the championship.

It’s so competitive that any mistakes make it difficult to progress.

I shouldn’t feel sick about it. It just feels like going backward.

I won last year, and this year I’m not even going. It feels stupid.

I lead Cloud Dancing out toward the stables, and I look up because I can feel him watching me.

I know it’s him. Without him even speaking.

He doesn’t say anything, but he touches the brim of his hat.

I take it as a sign of respect, and I’m not sure why he bothers.

But I also know that I’ll be watching his ride tonight.

In contrast to me, his ride is amazing. Perfect.

He doesn’t just complete it, he gets the top score of the night again.

He really is having a winning season, and I bet if Colt hadn’t gotten injured, Maverick still would’ve won.

It’s just like that for him this year. I think it’s his year.

But I don’t want to say that to him, especially not after earlier today.

I feel like crap, and one of the other barrel racers who did not win anything grabs my arm, leaving a trail of glitter behind as she gazes up at me excitedly. “Let’s go out. The Cowboys said they’re all going over to the Prickly Cactus. I mapped it, it’s only like an eighth of a mile, we can walk.”

I don’t feel like going out, but that makes me feel like I should go. Because what am I going to do otherwise? Sit in my trailer feeling sorry for myself? Feeling like a virgin who can’t even get to a championship? Yeah. Not in the mood.

What I try not to think about then is how it hasn’t even occurred to me to try and hook up with anybody since my poker game escapades. Because my brain has been stuck on Maverick, and honestly, I’m not a huge fan of that reality.

“Sure,” I say. “Is there a group walking over?”

“Yes,” says one of the other girls – Cam, who won tonight. She smiles at me. “You did great. It’s just bad luck that you knocked that barrel over the other night. The rest of us would’ve been chasing you if not for that. And I know that Colt getting injured affected you.”

“Thanks. But don’t try to downplay your win. You were amazing.”

“Yeah. I’m sad Colt’s not here because I would’ve liked to celebrate with him,” she says, smiling.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I should be used to it. Everyone was all over Dallas and Colt. When they were here. And so it doesn’t surprise me that there is some sadness that they’re not here for the celebrations.

I shove my hands in my pockets, and four of us start to move toward the driveway in a small pack.

“Did you ever sleep with Colt?”

I jerk my shoulders into a straight line. “No.”

“You slept with Maverick, though, didn’t you?”

Oh. Great. The rumors have spread. Technically, I did sleep with Maverick like we were an Amish couple bunking up during Rumspringa.

“Yeah,” I say, looking straight ahead.

“He’s scary,” Cam says, shivering slightly. “Colt seems nice.”

“Colt is nice,” I say. “Which is why he’s one of my best friends.” And also makes me wonder if it’s why I never…

I don’t like that at all.

Do I like Maverick because he’s mean? Because he’s scary and dark and a project? As if my own life isn’t messy enough that I would need to fixate on a man who is – putting it nicely – disastrous.

I should be kinder to myself. I try to think of a very nice guy who remains in the circuit that I could maybe…

It doesn’t have to be a bull rider. We are all drawn to them, I feel like it’s a function of biology.

It is that measure of danger. The risks that they take, and then that’s just dumb, because in an evolutionary sense, who wants to pass down genes like that?

Not that our sex drives are entirely linked to those kinds of things anymore, I don’t believe, but it does seem foolish.

And yet, here we all are.

There are some good-looking bronc riders. And tie-down ropers, frankly.

I just can’t think of any right now, because Maverick’s face is looming large in my mind’s eye.

That’s just annoying.

“Ouch,” one of the other girls, Elizabeth, laughs. “That’s damning with faint praise.”

“He definitely doesn’t deserve faint praise. He’s the nicest guy.”

“Sometimes I think nice guys are overrated.”

“They aren’t,” I say. “Especially when they’re actual nice guys and not nice guys in the way some of them are. The self-proclaimed ones. But…”

“Are you going to hook up with Maverick again?”

This is treading closer to being a lie. Because we did sleep together, we didn’t hook up.

I grit my teeth, not quite sure what to say, but before I have to worry about it, the neon sign for the Prickly Cactus comes into view, and everyone is distracted by what drinks they want to order.

The bar is overflowing. There are celebrations occurring in all corners, and there are pockets of people from Buckle Bunnies to Rodeo Royalty, rodeo employees, riders, and attendees.

And I decide to just let all the drama go.

This is the fun part. I’m not injured. And I’m not trapped underneath my parents’ expectations anymore.

Maybe I don’t feel as accomplished as I want to.

Maybe I don’t feel like I’m getting where I need to go just quite yet, but I’m here.

And this bar is cool. There are metal cacti placed all around the room, and there’s a mechanical bull at the back of the building.

Neon is everywhere, and the jukebox in the back is blaring country music.

Sometimes I feel like an interloper in this culture.

It’s not my native language. And sometimes I fear that they’re going to see I don’t belong. That the cowboy hat is more costume than anything else for me, and that I would be more comfortable in breeches than chaps.

But right now, I want to sink into it. Right now, this is my world, and it feels like it. Even though I’m a loser.

Cam buys a round of drinks for all the barrel racers, and I happily take a sip of the frozen daiquiri that I’m presented with. Usually, I hang out with Colt and Dallas, and that’s fun, but it’s not this.

It doesn’t take long, though, for the girls to get a couple drinks deep, and to start searching for hookups. Cam is all over Holt, and Elizabeth is in the corner with Belle, the Rodeo Queen, looking cozy.

And how nice for everybody.

That’s fine. I’m not even a little bit jealous.

I scan the bar, and I tell myself I’m not looking for Maverick.

But I see him standing in the corner, not talking to anyone.

He’s not drinking, either. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s surveying the lay of the land.

I wish I knew what he was thinking. Watching and judging? Why is he even here?

I’m tempted to go and ask, but then one of the cowboys – Sean, I think his name is – swaggers on up to me, a cocky grin on his face.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’d like that.”

I follow him to the bar, and he puts in an order.

“Heard you didn’t advance.”

“Yeah.” I don’t tell him that I didn’t hear anything about his event, and I don’t care.

“Bummer.”

“It’s fine. I get to go home now, I guess. But I suppose a lot of people are headed home after this.”

“Yeah. I have a couple more rides, to see if I can earn enough points to go forward.”

I nod. “Great. Hopefully you do.”

“Yeah.”

“How many drinks do I have to buy you before you’ll fuck me?”

I blink. I’m shocked at what just came out of his mouth. He was being normal a second ago. And now suddenly it feels aggressive. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, no offense. I was just given to believe that it didn’t take a lot of small talk with you. After all, Maverick Quinn got you in a poker game.”

“Well, that was Maverick,” I say.

He’s drunk, I realize now. Which explains the switch-up, not that I don’t think he would’ve done it, I just think he might’ve been a little bit smoother. Because of course there’s no way in all the damned world that this man is getting anywhere near me and a bed after that.

“Thanks for the drink,” I say. “I’m going to go now.”

He grabs my arm, and fear takes hold of me. I don’t think he’s actually going to do anything in the bar with everyone around, but his grip is tight, and people are distracted.

“Come on, I’m a good time.”

“Yeah. You seem like it,” I say, jerking my arm out of his hold.

“Come on,” he says. “I think I deserve something.”

“You sure fucking do,” comes a growl from behind me, and suddenly there’s a fist flying right past my head, connecting with Sean’s jaw.

He drops straight to the ground, and I turn to see Maverick standing there, his eyes furious.

There’s blood on his knuckles, and that’s when I notice that Sean has a very broken nose.

Blood is pouring from his nostrils, and he looks rough.

“Maverick…”

“If I ever see you handle a woman like that again, I’ll be sending you home in a wooden box, and don’t think I won’t. As it is, you’re done. I’m going to speak to the commission.”

“No,” I say. “I don’t want to be the cause of–”

“He fucking caused it,” Maverick says. “He did. He can’t just grab you; he can’t treat you that way. He can’t treat anyone that way. And the fact that he thinks he can is why he’s gone.”

My heart is pounding hard, and I can’t believe that just happened. Maverick was forced to defend my honor because I created this situation where all these men think that I am an easy lay because I bet myself in a poker game, and had sex with no one.

I grab hold of Maverick’s shirt, and I drag him through the crowded bar, outside into the parking lot. I know that we’ve made a scene, a big scene, and I don’t really care. Everybody already thinks that we…

“I didn’t need you to do that,” I say as soon as we are outside.

“I don’t care. I needed to do it.”

“It was a public place, he wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Why are you defending him?”