Chapter 21
It was justafter three when something pulled me out of sleep. For a moment, I wondered why the TV was on, then I realized that was my phone. By the time I figured out how to answer it, the call had already gone to voicemail, but the silence didn't last long. Before I could even unlock the screen, the ringing started again. That meant it had to be Shelby. I swiped at the screen.
"Mm?"
She giggled in response. "Morning, sunshine! I guess this means I woke you, huh?"
"Mhm."
"Ok. Well, this is me giving you enough time to have a few cups of coffee before I get there. Justin's working until ten, Eric's with his gramma, and I need time with my best friend to hear about this weekend!"
Blinking my eyes a few times, I tried to focus on the clock. "Hey, what time does the bank close?"
"Five. Means you have almost a whole hour to become presentable. After that, we're stopping by the Elbow for a girl's dinner out. Deal?"
"Yeah," I grumbled, rolling out of the bed face first. "I need a shower."
"Coffee first," Shelby reminded me. "Get it brewing, because you sound like you need a few."
I probably needed more than a few, yet I somehow managed to stagger into the kitchen. After that, I used up all of the hot water, then found a clean pair of jeans. Took three cups of coffee to get my brain to actually function, but eventually, it started working, and I was already making plans.
If I was going to ride next weekend in St. Louis, that meant some more clothes. Somewhere in my closet, I had an old pair of chaps that would work better with my helmet. They were black. Nothing fancy at all, just black, but I could dress up the whole thing with a pink shirt, and I had some boots that weren't too far off in color. Shelby called them raspberry.
I was going to need her help with makeup. In Tulsa, I'd gotten away with ducking my head during the introductions. Being an unknown rookie meant that people were still trying to find their chairs when my name had been announced, but this time would be different. I was the girl in the PBR. The announcer had already tried to make a big deal of it, which meant it would be worse next time, and I wanted to have on a little mascara when he did.
I was also splurging on a hotel this time. No more sleeping in my truck if I wanted to get close to Ty again. Nope, the smell of cow manure and sweaty broad was not a turn on - not even for bull riders. Maybe I could find some sexy lingerie, too? Sure wouldn't hurt, because I had every intention of giving in the next time Ty tried to pick me up.
In other words, my best friend was about to be my mentor. Shelby loved clothes, loved looking girly, and knew exactly how bad I was at it. The best part was going to be when I told her why I suddenly cared. I had a funny feeling that her squeal of delight was going to be loud enough to deafen half the county.
An hour later, I was twisting my hair into a braid when I heard the front door. Out here in the boonies, friends and family didn't bother to knock. If the door was unlocked, it meant they were welcome.
"You ready to rumble?" she called out, making her way toward my room.
"In here," I yelled back.
As she rounded the corner, her eyes dropped to my waist, and she gasped. I was pretty sure my rhinestone belt wouldn't get that kind of reaction from her, especially since she was the one who'd picked it out. And she proved me right when she scurried over to grab the buckle, twisting it hard enough to make me lean back.
"That's real?" Her eyes were wide.
"Yep."
"Wait." Shelby looked closer. "Not just a souvenir, but real, real?"
Yeah, she couldn't have set this up any better. Struggling to look calm and nonchalant, I nodded slowly. "Yeah, it's kinda like fourth place at Tulsa real."
"Oh my God!"
Well, she didn't manage to rupture my eardrums, but it was close. "First went to J.D., second to Renato, third to some guy named Jake Cunningham from Nebraska, fourth to me, and fifth was Ty McBride."
"Wait." Shelby blinked twice, trying to wrap her mind around what I was saying. "You scored better than Ty?"
I snagged my phone off the charger, shoved it in a back pocket, then grabbed my purse - and the check stashed inside it. "I did. I also got a real good payout this time. Good enough that as soon as this gets in the bank, I'm signing up to ride next weekend in St. Louis."
That was all it took. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the door. We made it all the way to the car before she asked how much I'd made. Sliding into the front seat of her Honda Civic, I pulled out the check and held it up. "So how about them apples?"
Her mouth flopped open. "Whoa. That's one hell of a payout. Damn, girl!"
"I know. Ok, bank first. Need to make sure this clears."
Behind the wheel, Shelby danced and jigged in her seat, celebrating like a teenager. "I'll see if I can get the weekend off and maybe we'll come watch."
"Oh, that would be amazing. You'll have to bring a pink sign, too."
Yeah, I'd embraced the pink. J.D. was right. If I wanted to show the boys up, then I had to stop being ashamed of being a girl. I needed to rub it in their faces, and a cheering section - even if it was small - was a good way to start. As we drove through the back roads to the bank in town, Shelby and I made plans, discussing whether or not the sign would need glitter, and what catchphrase would be best.
While we waited for the teller to deposit my check, we came up with good ones, bad ones, and some that wouldn't be suitable for public, let alone her three-year-old son. Then we kept going when we finished there. In the end, we settled on "Ride like a girl!" and left it at that. Mostly, we gave up because we'd reached the bar, also known as our old stomping grounds. It was where Shelby had met Justin and where my picture hung on the wall like all the other local rodeo winners. Granted, it wasn't for rodeo queen, but Jr. Steer Riding. Personally, I thought that was even more impressive.
Inside the Elbow, it was crowded. Mondays were the pulled pork special, and that was always a big draw. This was also the only place to get a beer that didn't come out of the fridge at home. Considering there were no other options, that made it everyone's favorite hangout by default. It came complete with flickering neon signs, an antique jukebox, and big screen TVs on every wall showing that night's football game. The pool tables in the back corner were relatively new, having been set up about two years ago, but I didn't have to look to know the rodeo crowd had already claimed them. That included my ex.
"So," Shelby said, steering me to the other side of the dining area as she pulled out her phone, "who was the guy you spent so much time with?" Swiping at her screen, she found something, tapped it, then held it out to me as she slid onto a vinyl bench.
I took the place across from her, my eyes locked on a clip of me walking with my head down and a lean guy patting my shoulder. The purple jersey gave him away. "That's Tanner, one of the bullfighters. He picked me up a few times."
"Uh huh." She gave me a devious little smile. "He's pretty cute, you know."
"I know," I promised. "Shelby, half those guys look like candy. Thing is, Tanner's cool, too. I mean, I've barely talked to him, but he seems sweet, if maybe a little shy."
Another tap and swipe, then a different video was playing. "Saw this one while I was putting on my makeup to come get you," she said, "otherwise I woulda freaked out. You somehow forgot to mention the near-death experience."
The volume was turned down, but I didn't need it. The spotted pattern of the bull surging in the chute was enough. That black and white thing was Disco Breakout, which meant this was going to be ugly. Well, I'd wanted to watch it anyway.
When the gate opened, I smiled, thrilled to see how calm I looked up there. Twice, I nearly lost my balance, but both times I caught it, using my legs and core to get me back in position. That was what gave me the advantage over the guys. My center of gravity was right on the bull's back, not a few feet above it. Then came the dismount.
I was riding like a pro until the exact second my hand came free. In high definition, I could see my body shift and knew my far-side leg had just hooked the rope. What came next looked so different from how it had felt. My body hit the ground under the bull's belly and was dragged. Then I bounced, the massive animal's feet looking like they were all over my back, but Tanner was right there.
From the video, one would think I'd been stepped on repeatedly, but I hadn't. It seemed Tanner had made sure of it, keeping the animal turning so I stayed at its side. Every step had been near misses, thanks to him, and he'd put his own safety on the line to make sure of it. Then I saw the hoof that clipped me just before they got my leg free.
Shelby reached to pause the video, but I stopped her. "Hang on, you're about to see the best part."
"Huh?" She leaned closer, so I turned the phone to face her. The bull slammed into the back of my legs, and I flew like a ragdoll. Right on cue, Shelby sucked in a breath and jerked back. "That's not the good part!" she yelled.
I waved her down. "Not that. This."
On the screen, my body crashed into the wall, and I reached up. There was no need to mention my busted-up shoulder; it was clear that my left arm wasn't one hundred percent. Then a masculine hand hooked in my vest, its match gripping near my waist, and I was over the rail - just as Disco Breakout shouldered the wall. Just like I expected, the camera panned out and focused on the little girl in the blue shirt leaning against the broad shoulders and Wrangler patch.
"That," I told Shelby, "is the good part."
"That some guy kept you from getting squished? You're insane!"
I just tapped the screen. "Look at him, Shelby. Look real close."
And my best friend obeyed, her eyes getting wider. "Is that..."
"Ty McBride. I outscored him on that ride, and he made sure I knew it. Know what he didn't do?"
She shook her head.
"Laugh, act like I shouldn't be there. None of it. He was impressed and said I made a lot better bull rider than buckle bunny!"
"Oh," Shelby breathed, her mouth hanging partially open. "And when did he say that?"
"At the bottom of those stairs." I waved it away. "And when I got drunk that night, he carried me - yes, feet off the ground - to his truck and gave me a ride back to his hotel."
"You didn't!" she gasped. "You slept with Ty?"
"Slept," I clarified. "I may have also had a little make-out session that night, and one more before I came home." Grinning, I leaned across the table. "And the sweetest phone call this morning when I got in!"
"No way. You're dating Ty McBride?"
"Nah, not dating. Not quite that far. Just, you know, getting to know each other." Before Shelby could make any assumptions, I added, "And no hooking up. But that black shirt I wore yesterday? You see that?"
She obliged by pulling up the next video on her list. "This one?"
"It's his! That's Ty McBride's shirt, and damn, girl, can he kiss."
"Details!" she demanded.
"Lifting me off the bed, fist in my hair, grinding against me on the side of my truck? How's that for starters? Damn, he is all man."
"So why didn't you..." Shelby couldn't even finish. She just shook her head in confusion. "That's Ty McBride, one of the hottest men in the PBR!"
"C'mon, you know exactly how these boys think. I let one of them get in my pants, and they all think I'm a joke, just riding to get a little attention. Ty in Tulsa, J.D. in St. Louis, Jaxson Cade in Cheyenne... I mean there's no way I could do this if the guys think I'm here to be passed around."
"Does it matter?" she asked. "I mean, if you're riding the bulls, then you get the points. If you're not, then you're not. Same goes for them. Yeah, you're all competing, but what they do doesn't affect you at all, right?"
"Until I'm trying not to cry when I get on the bull because the harassment doesn't let up. Hell, you know how it goes. Look what happened with Cole. Spray paint on the door of my truck, a flat tire and a missing spare, and every time I turned around, the guys kept reminding me that I couldn't hack it. Every time I had to deal with their crap was another moment I wasn't focused, and that's not gonna be good enough now. In the PBR, the bulls are the best of the best, and that means I have to worry about things worse than just breaking bones."
"You got this, Cody." She lifted her beer. "From Ty McBride to riding in the PBR. Here's to my best friend, the best bull rider I've ever known - but don't you dare tell Justin I said that!"
"Cross my heart and hope to die," I promised, knowing her husband was proud of his local success. Then I tapped my bottle against hers. "And next weekend? Well, if Ty's still trying, I might just make me a few good memories."
"Just promise me one thing?"
"Sure."
Shelby took a deep breath and put on her serious face. "When Eric is old enough to ride, will you please show him how to do it? You know he's gonna try at least once, and I'm terrified that Justin will convince him to do something stupid."
Nodding, I reached out for my best friend's hand. "Swear. And I'll talk him into wearing a helmet, because all the pros do. One of the guys even bought me one."
"About damned time. You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Just do not make me come visit you in the hospital, ok?"
"Promise." Then I winked. "You can just send me flowers."