Page 9

CHAPTER 9

SAVE A HORSE (RIDE A COWBOY) BY BIG & RICH.

Parker Thompson:

Xander drives me to Dakota’s apartment, mostly because he refuses to let me walk. He said he wasn’t going to let me show up at my “girlfriend’s” birthday party late or sweaty. As if either of those things fucking matter because she is in fact not my girlfriend and probably won’t be considering her response to her brother yesterday. She doesn’t want him to know and she doesn’t seem like she’d be keen on keeping a secret from him. I would never ask her to do either after what she told me yesterday. He’s her best friend. He’s her closest family member. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.

“So, you’re one hundred percent sure this is a good idea?” Xander asks me as we near.

I sigh deeply, trying not to get nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever been nervous about seeing a girl in my fucking life.

“Nope,” I tell him.

I don’t own cowboy boots or anything country themed. I don’t know why the hell I would, considering I mostly wear warm-ups or workout clothes. I did have a flannel so that’s exactly what I’m wearing. That, and plain jeans. I know she told me Dakota planned all of this so I’m assuming he went all out. He seems like that type of friend.

“But you’re sure that you’re going to try? Like… Like you might not think it’s a good idea, but you’re sure that you’re going to do it anyway because you like her, right?” Xander asks and I shake my head, looking at him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I don’t… I mean I do like her, but,” I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. “Jesus Christ, Xander, I don’t know. I just know that whatever happens, happens and that I know it will be worth it too.”

“Don’t get your briefs in a twist you baby. I support you in your sexcapades, even if they are with your head captain's little sister,” he smirks to himself and I roll my eyes.

“You’re so fucking annoying, Xander. I haven’t had sex with her. I haven’t even kissed her,” I tell him, not looking at him while I do.

I don’t need to blush in front of him or I will never hear the end of it.

“But you want to,” he adds on.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to—”

“Okay, don’t be your grumpy self. You're about to celebrate her birthday, so be the normal you,” Xander interrupts me.

“I’m normally this way,” I grumble, not even looking at him.

“Right. So don’t be the normal you. Be the better version of you. The one that she liked in the first place… Can’t imagine what side of you that would be.” He eyes me and looks away with a judgmental stare.

I roll my eyes. Not everyone is fucking smiling all the time like Xander. The only time I ever see him with a mean mug on is when he’s on the ice.

“I don’t know what side of me it was either. I barely speak when I’m around her,” I admit.

“Well, yeah, then it makes sense why she likes you. Women love when men shut the fuck up.” I catch his idiotic smile which makes me roll my eyes.

“And you know that because you’re getting so lucky?” I ask, knowing he spends most of his time at the hockey rink and if he’s not there, he’s at our apartment with our roommates.

“You have no idea about what or who I’m sleeping with. Well not what, but who. You get it. Either way, women love when I talk,” he shrugs.

“Whatever you say.”

I shake my head and he pulls up to the apartment. I open the door and walk away as quickly as I can before Xander—

“Be careful, and text me when you’re on your way home, sweetie pie! Don’t be too late either—”

I hold up my middle finger, turning around to look at him as he yells out of his window. He drives a car nicer than anything I’ve ever ridden in—an all-black Range Rover. I love riding in his car but I’ll never tell him that. He’d take it as a compliment and I’d have to deal with his affection afterwards. I text Brianne and tell her I’m here. She gives me a floor and room number. I follow her instructions and head that way. When I knock on the door, Dakota answers, and we’re basically wearing the same thing. Jeans and a flannel. His is red and mine is a dark green so we’re different by that standard. He’s also wearing a cowboy hat and boots.

“Howdy,” he smirks at the sight of me and I nod.

“Hi.”

I walk in as he motions for me to enter and I notice Valerie, a cheerleader who is also in my grade standing at the island in the kitchen with Leah Ashley, and two other male cheerleaders. They wave and say hello, I do the same. I don’t miss the way Leah Ashley looks at me skeptically before turning back to the alcohol on the kitchen island. Bellamy’s ex… Hanging out with his sister. She is the captain of the cheer team so I get it, but also, I wonder how it makes Bellamy feel. More importantly how it makes Brianne feel. Does Bell even know?

“She’s still getting ready,” Dakota tells me and I shrug.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were, it’s fine. I can keep a secret,” he tells me and I stifle a sigh.

I try not to let myself feel affected by everyone’s assumptions and comments about what’s happening between Brianne and me. Considering nothing has happened. Considering I don’t know if anything ever will. Considering I refuse to push her in that direction because I refuse to separate her from her brother. If she’s uncomfortable with that. With something between us besides friendship, then it’s game over. No questions asked. But I would like something, even if it is only friendship. Because oddly enough, there’s already a connection between us. I just hope it’s not one-sided.

Everyone in the kitchen is in some sort of country or western inspired outfit. Leah wears an incredibly cropped white tank top that says cowboy killer on the front in red letters. She’s got red cowgirl boots on and a white cowgirl hat. Valerie is in a jean outfit—a tight strapless top and the same color denim shorts with brown cowgirl boots. Both of them are polar opposites. Though Valerie is the dark one, with dark hair, dark makeup, and olive skin and Leah is the bright one, with blonde short-cut hair, blushy bright makeup, and blue eyes… their personalities are different. Valerie is smiling and Leah looks like she’s always on the prowl, like she’s in defense mode before anyone can even approach…

I feel very out of place right now, but I don’t let on and I don’t say anything. I just stand with all of them and I’m passed a shot. I take it without hesitation, liquid courage is probably the only thing that will get me through the night with a bunch of people I’m not close with and never will be. I hope I get closer to her. Speaking of, the door opens, and Brianne enters the room with a blonde girl that I don’t know and have no intention of meeting, especially not when I have eyes locked on Brianne.

Brianne is wearing all black. Black shorts—leather, and tight. Her stomach is flat and exposed due to the tight long-sleeve top she wears, just like in her cheer uniform. She wears a belt with a buckle on the front and gold jewelry to match. She’s wearing black heeled cowgirl boots that make her tan legs look a thousand miles long. Her hair is in the same natural wavy curls it’s always in, long down her back. The top of her head is covered with a black cowboy hat. My jaw would be on the floor if I wasn’t in a room full of people.

Usually, danger is signified by red but tonight it’s dressed in black and tugging on every want and need I’ve ever had. I need to stay in check. I know I’m going to have to keep reminding myself of that too. Restraint is something I never struggled with. I’m very good at telling myself no, but I think tonight might be the first time I fight with that part of me. I don’t know what her friends know. What she’ll want them to know… I don’t know what she wants. What she’s looking for. If anything happens at all tonight, it will have to be started by the girl in black.

“Did someone call the Uber?” she asks, joining in with everyone else at the island.

“I called one,” Leah tells us.

“I called the other,” Dakota tells her.

The two of them stand next to each other, and then she looks at me, her eyes catching mine. She freezes and then smiles, her rosy cheeks burning brighter. They are my favorite thing about her, I think. Her pink cheeks. Though, right now looking at her, it’d be almost impossible to choose the best part of her. I almost want to cringe at the thoughts in my head. I’ve never been very perceptive. I’ve never felt the need to take notice of what’s happening around me unless it involves me. In technical terms, she does involve me. It’s ignorance, I’m sure of it. I know I’ve probably missed out on a lot from having that mindset but I’m glad that I notice her, that I see her. That it’s hard not to…

We all exit together, then haphazardly pile into Ubers when we get downstairs. I end up with Brianne, Dakota, and Valerie. The three of them are loud, just as loud as Brianne is alone. All of them match energy with each other, and I feel out of place but also like it doesn’t matter like none of them care that I’m quiet or here because that’s what they expect. They aren’t trying to make me be something else or someone else. I keep my arm rested over the back of the seats and keep my eyes forward until we pull up to a bar called The Boot Scoot. I get out first and hold my hand out, helping Valerie and then Brianne out of the car.

“Why, thank you,” Brianne dips her hat with her fingers and I smirk, following her into the bar.

She flashes what I assume is her fake ID at the bouncer and he barely looks at it because he’s in fact staring at her. Get in the fucking line, dude…

I show my ID and continue behind her. My senses are completely overloaded the second we walk in. The bar is loud and absolutely packed. The waitresses and bartenders are all in country-themed attire. Men and women both walk around with trays of shots and bottles for the guests. The girls that work here wear assless chaps and tight ripped-up shirts that say The Boot Scoot on them. They wear underwear that covers only a small portion of their lower halves.

There is country music blaring and men and women everywhere—chatting, dancing, and drinking. There is also a mechanical bull off to the side surrounded by a ring. I’ve never been to a place like this. The music shifts from country to pop, but something with a good beat comes on, so the people keep dancing. The lights are flashing too with colors popping up everywhere, making it hard to focus on just one thing.

Except her. She’s smiling right now, more than I’ve seen her smile since I met her. Even in the dark with the flashing around us, I can see her blushing cheeks. She said she loved noise and music. This seems like the perfect place for someone like her.

“Is this what you wanted, cowgirl?” Dakota asks her, spinning her around.

Her hair whips around her and she laughs wildly, holding onto her cowboy hat.

“It’s perfect!” she cheers.

“It’s her birthday!” Valerie shouts over the music to the bartender.

“Shots on me, little lady,” a man that’s sitting at the bar winks at her.

He’s probably freshly out of college. She smiles at him and he does what he says, not only buying her a shot but buying one for each of us. I just follow everyone else’s lead, not wanting to object, but also wanting her to know that whatever she wants goes here. It’s her birthday. That’s how birthdays should be. We all settle and the group of us relaxes into the atmosphere of the bar as much as we can, considering just how rowdy it is. I look at her and she catches her eyes on me. I’m letting her lead this, if this is even a thing… but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

“You look gorgeous,” I speak loudly over the music and she smiles but furrows her brows.

Embarrassment over the compliment tries to sneak in, but I once again repeat the words confidently over and over again.

“What?” she asks, even though she’s standing right next to me.

“I said you look…” I stop myself because she’s still looking at me like she has no clue what I’m saying.

I know I have a little bit of alcohol in my system so I could blame it on that, or I could just blame it on the fact that I want her close to me like she was last night. I’m doing this because… because I need her to hear me. That’s the only reason. I try to convince myself but I’m not very convincing. I hook my fingers through the space in her belt loop and tug her to me, bringing her in my space, into my orbit. She puts her hands on my chest and I lean down, my lips brushing her ear.

“I said that you look gorgeous, Brianne,” I speak just loud enough for her to hear, even when I’m this close.

This is so out of character for me. Jesus Christ, I’m at a honky tonk bar if that isn’t proof enough. My chest is thrumming with anxiety even with the alcohol in my system, but I’m doing everything in my power not to let it show. I want to play the calm and cool card like I usually do.

“And what about you, cowboy? You look…” she asks over the loud music.

When she leans back, she only does enough to look at my face, then she shakes her head with a smile on her face. Almost as if she can’t believe what she’s looking at. She takes her hat off and places it on my head instead. The way she looks at me, I decide right here and now that this is worth it. Honky tonk bar or not.

“Tonight isn’t about me, is it?” I ask her and watch the smirk grow into a smile again.

Confidence will always be something I struggle with. Bellamy and Lawson were right about that but I can fake it. I can pretend for the time being. I muster up the feeling I have when I’m about to play or go onto the field. I burrow that in my chest…I bring my finger up, dancing it along her jaw, under her chin so her gaze stays on mine. Electricity shoots up my finger and through my body. This is the alcohol speaking. The music playing stops. It sounds like a record scratching and everything halts in the bar, including the moving lights. Brianne and I, as well as everyone else, look around until an alarm sound starts playing on a loop over the whole bar and someone comes over the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to take it off tonight.”

Whoever is speaking has a deep southern drawl and I couldn’t tell you if it was real or fake, but it definitely fits and makes this entire place come together that much more. My hand is still resting on her hip, my fingers hooked through her belt loop.

“Are you going to dance with me or are you going to make me go at this all on my own?” She raises an eyebrow, stretching on her tiptoes to come dangerously close to me.

“I think you and I both know that I don’t dance. I will buy you a drink, though, birthday girl,” I tell her.

I get another shot for the two of us, knowing it’s most likely a bad decision. We take it together. Despite the bite of the alcohol and the very small taste of regret, my insides warm.

“No dance?” she asks and I shake my head.

She narrows her eyes, purses her lips, and backs away slowly. The song that plays over the loudspeaker isn’t one that I’ve heard in a long time—not since I was younger at a school dance I was most likely forced to go to. Take It Off by Ke$ha blasts over the speakers, and the employees move to the center of the dance floor, the bouncers in the club backing guests away. When the song picks up, the wait staff starts dancing, all in sync. A line dance of sorts and I see the excitement on Brianne’s pretty face. I watch her, and the second the bouncers move, I see her hook her arm with the blonde she was with earlier.

They both have the same body type, small but incredibly fit. They’re like carbon copies of each other except her friend is more pale and bright blonde opposite of Brianne’s brown hair and tanned skin. Within a matter of a few seconds, and a few tries, Brianne and her friend have nailed the somewhat challenging steps and are dancing with the staff and a few other people in the crowd. Dakota is standing next to me and I catch him watching me as I watch her.

“What?” I ask, trying not to get defensive.

I don’t need him thinking I’m an asshole. They’re best friends. She surely listens to his advice.

“She’s so out of your league,” he tells me and I give a short laugh, and take a drink out of my bottle, ignoring the comment that’s more of an insult.

“I’m aware,” I grunt in response.

“Are you always grumpy?” he asks.

“Are you always nosy?” I ask back and he rolls his eyes.

“Who’s that with her?” I ask him.

“Her name is Delaney. She’s in Brianne’s dance classes with her. Hence the fact that the two of them are naturals out there,” he tells me. “You know, I looked this place up online and this dance is why I chose it. I saw it on TikTok,” he tells me. I furrow my eyebrows.

“Why?” I ask over the music.

“Because a girl should have fun on her birthday, and God knows you don’t have the balls to show her that kind of fun,” he insults once again. “Watch… See the blonde guy, tall, cowboy hat?” Dakota asks me.

My eyes drift to the dance floor. I see him, directly next to Brianne, dancing to the Ke$ha song, with a cowboy hat shading his face. Well, everything but his smiling lips. He keeps turning his head to watch Brianne as she dances, as she swivels her hips and claps along to the dance, having the time of her life. It’s hard to watch him when all I want to do is watch her.

“What about him?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t know about him personally. I just knew the guys were hot, and that they were going to do this,” he smirks to himself, drinking out a straw, something that looks like a margarita.

He nods his head as the chorus starts to the song. The second that Ke$ha sings, “Take it off,” the men on the floor who are employees do just that. They remove the flannels they wear. I have to give it to Brianne because she’s a performer at heart. She doesn’t falter in her moves much, but I can see her eyes drift as she stares at the blonde guy, his attention directed toward her. They’re gravitating toward each other. It’s obvious. I breathe deeply.

“So what?” I shrug.

“So, I knew that at least one of them, if not all of them would shoot their shot,” Dakota tells me.

“You say it like it’s supposed to shock me. She’s fucking perfect, Dakota. She’s going to get stared at and hit on,” I tell him. “And we have nothing going on, so it doesn’t matter. The guys out there aren’t anything she can’t handle.” I tell him. I’m not lying.

“So that—”

He nods his head again and my eyes catch on the guy with his hand in her back pocket now, their chests touching and their bodies moving as a unit together. He leans down and whispers something in her ear, and she laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard. I clench my jaw.

“Doesn't that make you a little bit jealous?” Dakota asks.

“I’m not the jealous type,” I tell him, drinking my beer, wondering why it tastes more bitter than I remember.

If she wants him, then that’s what she should get. It’s her birthday. And we’re just friends. If thoughts had a taste, that one would taste like black licorice. I clench my jaw. I’m only stating facts.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dakota pats my shoulder.

He moves like he’s about to go out there too.

“Hey…” I catch his attention and he turns around.

“You’re her best friend. If I’m so out of her league, why make it seem like you want me to make a move?” I ask him.

“Because she’s totally into you and if you don't, she never will,” he admits and shrugs his shoulders. “She’s skittish sometimes but don’t miss your chance, Thompson, because this is it!” he shouts at me and then turns around, and runs toward his best friend.

She’s backing away from the male dancer, still engaging with him and Dakota runs onto the dance floor, sweeping Brianne by her hips and spinning her around. Her hair spins in ribbons around her and Dakota takes her in one hand and her friend Delaney in the other, spinning both of them. I watch as she leans into Dakota and whispers in his ear. Then, she pulls him with her and turns the guy she was just dancing with around. The second he turns, she backs away, leaving him face-to-face with Dakota. I watch as the two of them dance together and now, it all makes sense. I don’t even think Dakota saw that coming. I smirk, those bitter thoughts tasting sweeter by the second.

The song ends after another minute and the person who was just speaking on the loudspeaker makes sure everyone knows the fun isn’t over yet. They state it’s ladies only on the floor and encourage the crowd to grab their girls and make their way down.

“Cowboys, keep watch of your little ladies tonight because things are about to get wild,” the announcer says when a song comes on that I’ve never heard.

It’s probably because it’s explicitly a country song—so country that it’s hard to do anything but pay attention to the southern drawl of the voices singing. It’s like clockwork. The same female employees showcase the line dance steps and all the girls standing around join in. Leah and Valerie have joined in with Brianne and her friend Delaney. They all look like they’re having the most fun in the world like nothing could ruin this for them. The chorus of the song starts and I watch as the dancers move from the dance floor and climb onto the bartop on the edges of the dance floor. They continue their dance until the music pauses.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” The entire floor of women cheers the words all together.

I don’t look at the girls on the bartop next to me. I look straight at Brianne. She’s perfect in the steps. She’s moving with grace but also adding her own flare to every bit of it. This is her element. This is where she belongs and even if it’s not the style of dance she’s trained in, she’s kicking its ass. She looks incredible while doing it. I finish off my beer and turn around to order another. One of the girls, a dancer, stops directly in front of me on top of the bar. I stare at her feet considering she’s standing on the bar top, thinking she’ll keep moving but she doesn’t, so I look up. My eyes move up her legs until I reach her face. She’s staring down at me with a wide grin. She holds her hand out to me, looking for assistance. I hold my hand out to her, helping her from the bar, and onto one of the barstools next to me.

“And what might your name be, handsome?” she asks, her voice carrying delicately but perfectly over the music. She’s… Hitting on me… I’m not an idiot, but once again, I’m not perceptive. It’s hard to notice the flirting unless it’s flashing in bright red lights in my face. This is pretty clear… I think.

“Parker,” I tell her, taking the beer from the bartop, my eyes barely glancing over her.

Not interested, even if she is gorgeous.

“Are you here on your own, or did you come with someone else?” she asks me, and my eyes slide to the dance floor, looking for Brianne but I can’t find her.

I didn’t come with someone but that doesn’t mean I don’t want her…

“Ummm,” I hesitate. How do I explain this without sounding like an idiot, and why do I care how she perceives me?

“Ummmm,” she mimics me, her finger drawing over my chest.

“I came with someone, but not in the way I want… Not yet,” I nod to the dance floor.

“Which one is she, Parker?” The pretty girl in front of me asks.

I look for a longer while now and spot Brianne. She’s shaking her hips, dancing with the rest of the workers who have now left the bartop and moved back onto the dance floor.

“The one out there in all black,” I tell her.

“The one who dances like she works here,” she laughs, obviously impressed.

“That would be the one.”

I look directly at the woman standing next to me. She has dark black curls and bright red lips. She’s pretty. Someone would be lucky to have her hitting on them but… My eyes drift back to Brianne, the wanting in my chest so heavy it almost hurts.

“Word of advice. Make her jealous and she’ll have no choice,” she tells me.

“Make her jealous?” I ask.

I don’t want her to be angry, but… I also hardly know the first thing about getting with a woman or making someone like you. So if this is it, I’ll have to be the one to try.

“She’s looking at us, so look at me, be interested, and she’ll be here in seconds… That is if she wants you the same way. If not, then you’ve got your sign…” she tells me, and I don’t take my eyes off of the waitress, part of me wondering if she’s going to be right.

Brianne hasn’t expressed any form of wanting me. She agreed to one date. She didn’t try to stop me last night when I almost kissed her… But… I go along with the employee's plan, staring at her face, then her lips. I don’t lean into her. I don’t touch her. I just look at her, smirking as I bring my bottle to my lips drinking. Her smile widens and a shit-eating grin forms on her bright red lips.

“5, 4, 3, 2…” The girl in front of me counts. Her finger is still dancing along my chest.

“Excuse meeee,” Brianne sings the words, doing just what the mystery girl told me.

I watch her smirk before I turn my attention to Brianne who is standing in front of me.

“Yes?” I ask her, she smiles at the girl next to me, a genuine smile, then looks at me.

“Are you with him?” the girl asks Brianne.

“I could be,” Brianne smirks at her.

“Say less,” she winks at Brianne and then dances away, leaving her with me.

I guess it’s time to play the part.

“And what if I was enjoying that?” I ask, using the waitress’ advice and playing up this angle. I wasn’t. I’m enjoying this exponentially more.

“Then I’d ask you why you came here to celebrate my birthday with me at a bar you’d never come to just to talk to other pretty girls… when I’m right here,” she says, her voice suggestive. It’s obvious she’s got alcohol moving through her veins just like I do.

“I came because I wanted to celebrate your birthday,” I answer simply.

“And?” she asks and she moves closer to me.

I’m sitting on a bar stool and she is now standing between my legs, her hips nestled between my thighs. This is definitely a move—an intimate one that makes my chest tight.

“What do you want me to say? Because the second I say it out loud, it becomes something real, Brianne. I can’t take it back,” I tell her and her arms slide around my neck.

I just need her to bite. Once and then… then, it’s game over. She takes the cowboy hat from my head and places it back on hers, shading her face from the lights.

“I don’t want you to say anything…” she tells me, her voice heavy.

Part of me wonders if I should maybe be questioning this. Why now when last night she seemed so hesitant and skittish? I look at her lips and her rosy cheeks. Her bright blue eyes. The freckles spattered on her cheeks. Her thick lashes. I watch her as she looks at my lips too. I see her direct line of sight. She licks her own lips and nudges forward, her nose brushing mine before she tilts her head. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. My ears are ringing, every single thing in the building surrounding us is drowning out. A bad idea has never sounded, felt, or tasted better than this supposed bad idea does.

Her arms are slung around my neck lazily and her lips are centimeters from mine. I look at her, almost positive she’s not going to follow through. I beg in my head. Please kiss me. God, please… She hesitates, then melts, and so does every single thing inside of me. Her lips… Her lips are like buried treasure. Like a drink of water at the end of a race. Like the sun after fucking winter. They’re slow and so tentative as they kiss mine and I’m so shocked that I indulge only now, closing my eyes. I take over now that her lips have given me permission. I bring my hands up to her. My left hand moves over the soft skin of her throat to the back of her neck. I weave my hand into her hair and grip the back of her thigh with my other hand. Her lips aren’t tentative anymore. They’re crushed to mine like they were meant to be there until she pulls back.

“Do you think…”

“Whatever you’re about to say, no, I didn’t think that,” I tell her, chills racing over my body now that her warmth is gone.

“I mean, maybe I should… No, I mean like I shouldn’t, but I could just… Do you think that I should have another drink since it’s my birthday?” she asks and I bring my hand out from her hair and wrap it around her neck. My fingers brush the bottom of her jaw as I bring her lips back to me—the lips I’ve been wanting and waiting for. I’ve only been waiting since the night at Haven when I initially wanted to kiss her… But it feels like I’ve waited a long time for this. For her. She pours into kissing me and I hold back the groan in my throat at the way she feels pressed between my legs right now. I pull back but lean in one more time, still not getting enough as I kiss her again, my teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

“That’s what I think…” I tell her.

Her eyes flutter open, she’s flushed a deep crimson I haven’t seen yet but want to stay. I feel like I just scored the biggest, most important touchdown in a championship game. I have that much confidence right now. I’ll be damned if I let it slip away tonight for even one second.