Page 11 of Maverick (The Bull Riders #3)

“Because… Because it’s you and me and all of this that is creating the dynamic.”

“No. It’s men being fucking douchebags that’s creating the dynamic.”

I don’t know why I’m angry at him. I can’t explain it.

I should be angry at Sean. I am angry at Sean.

It’s not that I’m not. It’s just that I feel like all this attention has been brought on me by this, and he’s part of the problem.

Even though I’m the one who created the situation. I know that I am.

I also know that no matter what I did, even if I really did have sex with Maverick, there’s no excuse for what just happened.

But I still feel so outside this community, and for one second I felt like I was part of it, now I’m going to be responsible for – no.

I know that I’m not responsible. But I’m just upset.

I just feel upset. And maybe it’s because Maverick is there, looking gorgeous, and I can’t have him, and won’t have him.

I shouldn’t have him. But he’s acting like a protective older brother, not like a guy who thinks I’m pretty.

But I already know that, because he chose to sleep rather than have sex with me.

“Come on. I’ll drive you back.”

“No. I don’t need you to drive me back.”

“I’m not leaving you by yourself. Not while any of that is going on.”

“I think you’re paranoid.”

“Yeah. I’m paranoid. You know why? Because the world is terrible.

Because things happen to people, Stella, bad things.

Maybe that would’ve been fine, and he would’ve left you alone if you had been insistent enough.

Maybe he wouldn’t have followed you back to your trailer.

Maybe he wouldn’t have forced himself on you, but I don’t know that I trust that for sure.

And I’m never going to be the guy who stands there and watches shit like that happen. Okay?”

I’m starting to have more of a clear head, and I’m starting to be able to recognize that what he did was the right thing.

That it was a good thing. I’m starting to be able to take this wild, reckless feeling inside of me and channel it to the appropriate target.

The one who we left bleeding inside the bar.

But it was the whole adrenaline rush of the moment and being shocked that he came to my rescue.

Or maybe just my discomfort with everything.

“You don’t have to be responsible for me.”

“Sure,” he says. He jerks his head in the direction of his truck. “Let’s go.”

I follow him, even if angrily.

“A lot of people are going to think you just punched him because you were jealous.”

“Great. I don’t care. There will be no doubt when I report him and get his ass suspended.”

“Yeah. I guess not.”

“You don’t have to play along with somebody’s bad behavior to be liked.”

“I know that.”

“Except you don’t.”

“No. I do, now that I’m thinking critically. I just wasn’t for a second.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says, jerking open the passenger door to his truck.

I climb up inside and look at him, standing there, one hand braced on the door, the other on the door frame.

His eyes are intense as he looks up at me, and I feel something shift in my chest. Then he lets out a heavy sigh and slams the door shut.

And I’m left staring through the window at the neon green cactus sign.

Then he opens the driver’s side door. He gets in and turns the engine on.

It’s just the two of us. I wonder if he has a hotel room tonight.

I wonder if there’s someone staying in it with him.

He looks at me, and for a moment, his eyes drop to my lips.

It’s a small moment, almost imperceptible, but I feel it.

My stomach tightens. What would he do if I asked him to take me back to his room?

What would he do if I offered myself to him specifically?

“I have a horse,” he says.

“I…” It’s such whiplash that even as he reverses out of the parking lot, I can’t quite get my bearings. “You…you have a horse?”

Is that a euphemism for him having a giant cock? Because I could see that. My jaw feels tense just thinking about it.

“Yeah. I… I have an Olympic-caliber dressage horse. He’s ten years old now. And I’m getting anxious to get him competing.”

“That’s so random.”

“It’s not. It’s just that you haven’t been sitting in my head for the last week.

I’ve been considering talking to you about it, especially because I knew that your season might be over.

Mine is over until the championship. I’m headed back to my ranch, and I’m getting antsy to do something with him.

I know he’s about the right age to actually start doing higher-level competition. ”

“Has he competed before?”

He nods. “Yes. I’ve had someone working with him for the past few years, but they aren’t a serious competitor. You are.”

“How did you even… Get into all that?”

“It’s a long story, but the end result is I have a horse that I can’t do anything with. And I know enough to know that you’re an excellent horsewoman. I’d like for you to see if you think that you’re compatible with him, and if you want to consider getting back into dressage.”

“It’s not going to be a straight line to the Olympics.”

“In what sense?”

“I mean, I’m going to have to get back, and you have to collect wins over the course of years and… I’m rusty.”

“Yeah. And there are three years until the next games.”

“Yes,” I say. “I know that. I mean, I’m deeply and keenly aware of that, considering that my sister is…”

“She’s been before, right?”

“Yes. She didn’t quite make the team, I mean, she didn’t end up riding in any of the events, but she was there. Technically, she has a medal from a team win.”

“But not an individual.”

“No.”

“Well, do you want to see if that might work for you?”

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Is there a reason that you couldn’t come and stay on my ranch until October?”

“No,” I say.

“Well, then, I’ll hire you. You can train him, work with him, you can board your horse there.”

“I just… Where would I stay?” I fight against the image that I have of the two of us sharing one bed, him without his cowboy hat firmly over his eyes, wrapping his arms around me as he pulls me into his embrace.

“I have a cottage on the property. I’ll pay you for your time.”

Well, that’s better than any situation I’m in at the moment, where my meager winnings from this year are going to make it difficult for me to survive.

But… I don’t know how I feel about getting back into dressage.

I’ve been feeling bad about barrel racing.

And anyway, my season’s over regardless.

Taking the time to see what I think about this horse, to see if I want to jump back into that world, well, it seems like the most risk-free way to do it.

Because this would be private, and my parents wouldn’t know that I was considering it.

If I used them to find a horse, then they would know, and if I changed my mind, then it would just confirm to them that I am incapable of sticking with something. That I’m unreliable.

This is less stupid than betting my virginity in a poker game. In fact, this is the best opportunity I’ve had for a good long while. It’s just shocking to me that it’s coming from him.

“Why are you offering me this?”

“Believe me,” he says, his jaw clenched tight. “It has more to do with what it means to me. And the fact that I can tell you’re amazing at it.”

“You’ve only ever seen me ride Western.”

“You’ve got a little bit of English in your form.”

My face gets hot. “Well. Probably.”

“It’s not an insult. Plus, I see it in the way that you walk.” This awakens a whole lot of curiosity in me. Why is he familiar with this? And really, how did he get the horse?

“This horse can’t go to waste,” he says. “And I’ve been trying to figure out a way to find the right rider for him. So, you kind of fell into my lap. Or, I fell into your bed.”

I clench my teeth together. “Yes. I guess that is what happened.”

“It seems like this is just the right thing. Anyway, if you hate it, you can leave.”

“Where’s your ranch?”

“Down near Yellowstone. Still in Idaho.”

“Oh. That sounds… That sounds good. I mean, beautiful.”

“It is. There are moose and bear, lots of elk on the property. It’s like being in a national park all the time.”

“That sounds great.”

“I like it.”

“And you live… by yourself?”

He hesitates for a moment, and I can’t read that. “Yes.”

“Well, I’ll go with you. And if it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. It doesn’t work out.”

“Yeah. No harm, no foul.”

Just then, he pulls into the lot, right by my trailer.

He puts the truck in park, and I stick my hand out toward him.

He looks down at it, and then he lifts his hand and grips mine, shaking it firmly.

The heat shocks me. The way that I feel his touch everywhere, not just on my hand. Deeper than my skin.

“I’m going to leave tomorrow morning. I’ll text you. You can follow me.”

I nod. And just like that, I’ve impulsively changed something.

And I hope that maybe this is the restless ache that Maverick has unleashed inside of me. I hope that this is the reason I’m so fixated on him. That I sensed there was something important about him, but it was just horses, and not anything else.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah. See you then.”