Page 3

Ava

T he margarita around my neck adds to the chill as we walk to the next bar.

And by walk, I mean stumble. Laughter sounds behind me as Erin trips over her own two feet yet again.

I need to get some water in her before she throws up.

Then again, maybe I should take my own advice.

But it feels so good to cut loose. I’ve been bound too tight, too long.

The string has snapped courtesy of the strawberry margarita.

Walking into the Honky Tonk bar, George Strait blares through the speakers. The bar is packed full, and judging by the cowboy hats, they all came from the NFR too. A large mechanical bull sits in the middle, a rider already getting thrown off.

“ Okay, girls, we need some tunes to set the night off right. I’m heading over to the jukebox,” Josie says, strutting through the bar. At least ten men are watching her long legs pace through without a problem. Something tells me we won’t be paying for a single drink.

Within seconds, Shania Twain’s Let’s Go Girls fills the bar. Our hoots and hollers are met with every other girl’s as we run to the dance floor and throw our hands in the air.

“We need to do a round of saluting our girl. She did the damn thing, and now maybe, just maybe, we can teach her how to have a good time again,” Erin says, and I roll my eyes at her .

They always tease me about this, but I didn’t have the same liberties as them.

I had to figure out the whole college and adult thing completely on my own, which meant I had to grow up a hell of a lot faster.

I can see why they thought I was boring, but I was pouring everything I had into just getting by.

But those days are about to be over. All my hard work has paid off, finally.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m so sorry I became such a bore while I was working nights and going to school during the day.”

She puts a hand over her heart and fakes sincerity, “Thank you for your apology. And I’m proud of you, Grandma.

” I can’t help but laugh at her because I do feel like a grandma most days.

I was the second oldest in my nursing school graduating class at the ripe age of twenty-eight.

Barb was forty-seven and trying something new after her divorce.

She was my best friend and probably the only reason I didn’t pull my hair out.

While the girls lived on campus and were partying, I was pulling overnights stocking shelves to pay my rent.

But maybe now that I have more than seven minutes of free time, I can figure out what fun is again.

“I’ll head to the bar and get us a round,” Cami says, practically skipping back to the bar. Her usual shyness has long drifted away, and her alter ego, social butterfly Cami, has arrived.

They were right, this is fun. I watch Josie get on top of the mechanical bull, and the crowd around her goes wild. The controller just smirks at her and she mean-mugs him back. Our little spitfire. “Turn her on, bull boy. ”

The bull starts spinning and rocking, and she makes a show of it with her hand in the air, somehow staying on. “Go, Jos!” Erin hollers.

Apparently, the controller was taking it easy on her because two seconds later, he picks up the pace, and she flies through the air.

The bar erupts in cheers, but we ignore it, rushing to make sure Jos isn’t hurt.

She hops to her feet, but the crowd once watching her is gone, all gathering and cheering near the front of the bar.

“Are you okay?” I ask, the nurse in me taking over as I scan her head to toe. But she looks almost giddy, we can probably thank the liquor for making her a bit more rubber-like.

“That was amazing! You have to try Ava!” Jos says with far too much enthusiasm.

I’m shaking my head no before she can even get the sentence out.

Erin saves the day by jumping in, replaying the whole event, causing us all to be bent over in fits of laughter.

I’m not sure what it is, but when Erin tells a story, it sometimes becomes twenty times funnier than the actual event.

“Bet you a cold drink that I could out ride you?” a male voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump a little. I was far too lost in our conversation to even hear someone sneak up.

Turning my head, I eye him. He’s way too attractive for me to make a fool of myself in front of so I shake my head. “I bet you could but I’ll pass, I am happy to watch.”

He cocks his head at me, his grey eyes glinting with a little wildness. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re a fun sucker.” A playful smirk causes one side of his lips to tilt up.

That little comment right there spurs something in me. I’m tired of being told I'm not fun. Responsible does not mean not fun. I had other shit to worry about. So you know what? Fuck it. Maybe it’s the tequila talking, but I’m going to prove to everyone just how fun I am .

“Fine. Hold this,” I say to Erin. My drink sloshes over the sides and onto her hands, but she pays it no mind as she laughs.

“We’ve got a taker!” he hollers, and the crowd goes wild.

Erin looks at me with eyes bigger than dinner plates.

I’m surprised too, girlfriend. But if one more person tells me I’m boring, I’m going to lose it.

My eyes catch on him again. Why does he look familiar?

I know I’ve seen those eyes before, they’re piercing and impossible to forget. Probably saw him at the rodeo.

I hop into the bounce-house-looking pen and thank the Lord the floor is padded.

I don’t think tequila and bull riding go hand in hand, but what do I know?

Every ounce of my body is screaming that this is a terrible idea.

There’s about a million and four ways I can get hurt.

I probably won’t last two seconds. For sure, I am going to embarrass myself, but thanks to the tequila sunrise in Erin’s hands, I probably won’t care about that until tomorrow morning.

Hopping up onto the bull, I swing my leg over, happy I wore pants and a bodysuit where there is no risk of anything popping out.

“Can I give you some pointers?” he asks, leaning his arms against the side of the pen. My eyes catch on the way his muscles bulge through the sleeves of his button-up shirt.

Quirking a brow up at him, I deliver a little more sass than necessary. “What? Does the cowboy hat make you a professional?”

He shrugs. “No, but I did just win the NFR. So I’d say I have some experience.”

Well shit. Didn’t know I was betting with a freaking god of bull riding.

“You didn’t think to lead with that?” That’s why the guy looked so familiar. Damn my liquor- hazed brain.

“Nah.” He shakes his head with a cocky grin and I can’t help but stare. It’s no wonder why all the girls went crazy over him. He was pretty on the screen, but up close? No comparison.

“Well then. Come show me how it’s done,” I challenge, a little surprised at my own boldness. But I will never ever see this guy again, so who cares?

He gracefully hops over the side, which is impressive considering it deflates a little with touch, and somehow, my brain decides that it was really attractive.

“Alright, the trick is to stay loose.” Funny. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a man say that to a woman. “May I?” His eyebrows raise with his question.

My gaze locks on his, and good lord, he may just be the most handsome man I have ever seen.

I nod as his hands graze over the top of my thighs, and I feel flames up my body.

His rough hands stick against the fabric of my body suit, and my skin erupts in goosebumps.

“Except for these, your thighs need to squeeze this bull like your life depends on it.” Little does he know I’m squeezing my thighs for other reasons.

He’s probably used to women fawning over him.

So, I cool my features in a weak attempt to play it cool.

I make a show of squeezing my legs, and his hand drops away. “Good, now put a hand up to counterbalance.” Regret already fills my body, even buzzed this is embarrassing. Maybe I should just wear my boring badge with honor from here on out. It’s gotten me pretty far if I do say so myself.

Reluctantly, I put my hand up. He nods his cowboy hat to me, and I can’t fight the blush that fills my cheeks. He looks over to the operator and waves before stepping back until his body is flush with the side of the pen, signaling it’s go time .

Oh God. Now I’m nervous. My heart starts to race, and my palms suddenly feel clammy. I think he sees the flare of panic in my eyes. “Squeeze and stay loose.” He gives me a thumbs up, and I nod my head.

The bull roars to life under me, jerking side to side and then front to back.

Staying loose while you are scared shitless is not as easy as it would seem.

I force my body to relax and figure out which way the bull will move next.

When the back of the bull rears up, I lean back, hand in the air, somehow still firmly planted on the bull thanks to my thigh’s death grip.

I let out a laugh. This is actually fun.

I last one whole second after that before I go flying off the side.

I land flat on my back, laughing. Mystery man is in front of me, a wide smile on his face.

He grips my hand, the connection of skin making little zaps shoot through me.

Maybe I’m more buzzed than I thought. He helps me to my feet and I realize I’m still smiling like an idiot.

“I was wrong, you do know how to have fun.” He keeps his hands on mine, and I feel a flush rush over my body.

“Be sure to tell my friends that. I’m tired of them calling me grandma.

” He shakes his head. He lifts the hand still holding mine in the air, as if I’m the heavyweight champ who just won a boxing match.

The crowd goes wild and I nervously look at his profile, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and the way his nose is slightly crooked.

Probably broke his face flying off a bull.

He turns his head to look at me. “Think they’re louder for you than they were for me.” I shyly shake my head. “Now, I think you owe me a drink.” He drops my hand, and we start our exit from the pen.

“Sure, but only if you tell me your name.”

“What, you don’t know?” He looks genuinely shocked .

“Not a clue. I remember seeing your face on the screen but I have no idea who you are.”

He looks a little surprised but holds out his hand for me to shake. “Maverick Ryder.”

A little chuckle bubbles up. “You ride bulls and your last name is Ryder? How original.” We exit out the back of the ride, nodding to the operator.

He scoffs. “Hey, it’s not like I came up with my last name.

” I roll my eyes, and he leads us to the bar.

It isn’t lost on me that he still hasn’t let my hand go.

And it isn’t lost on me that I’m not sad about it.

Maybe I could have one night of fun with him.

Just one. Then I can go back to real life and start fresh on Monday.

We sit at the bar and start talking. Sharing embarrassing stories I wouldn’t dare tell someone I planned on seeing again.

“Oh, you think that’s bad? In high school, I walked around half the day with a pair of my underwear stuck to my leg.” The mortification from that has haunted me every day since.

He laughs into the beer and takes a sip before spilling another of his stories.

“If it makes you feel better, one time I had to dart out of the locker room, covering my junk with my hat, because my best friend thought it would be funny to steal my clothes.” The people around us gawk as uncontrollable laughter seeps out of me.

Erin not so secretly walks by about every three minutes to make sure I’m not freaking out. I eventually give her the leave me alone look and she stays back. I’m not freaking out or wanting to get away. Just the opposite. It feels good to flirt. It feels good to let loose and laugh.

With every drink, I feel more relaxed, a little lighter. He goes round for round with me until his eyes start to look a little hazy.

“I like your hat.” I flick the tip of it, a girlish giggle bubbling up .

“Want to try it on?” he asks. It then dawns on me that I lost my hat at some point tonight. It probably flew off when I got bucked off the bull.

“Are you sure? You might not want to wear it anymore when you realize it looks better on me.” I wink at him and his face lights up.

“Oh, I’m sure.” His hand rests on my thigh and sparks erupt in my core. How can a light little touch do that?

Taking his hat, I place it on my head, and the smile that stretches across his lips is absolutely sinister. His hand no longer rests on my thigh, it grips it, and good lord, I think I might combust.

“You know what they say about a man's cowboy hat?” he asks and I shake my head. He leans in close to my ear, his hot breath on my neck makes me suck in a breath. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”