Chapter 28
When Shelby pulledinto the parking lot of the Elbow, J.D.'s truck was already there. The moment we stepped inside, I was searching the place for that black hat of his. I didn't find it. I did, however, see a black t-shirt with a lot of ink covering the arm beneath. Tapping Shelby, I headed that way. Before we made it, J.D. slid out of his seat and actually stood up to greet us.
"Ladies," he said, gesturing to the bench beside him in a clear invitation for me.
I slid in obediently. "What happened to your hat, cowboy?"
He shifted the ball cap on his head and gave me that devious smirk of his. "Came for a party, and didn't wanna babysit it all night. How 'bout you? Showing off that pretty blonde hair?"
I had two braids hanging down my back, a pair of short denim cutoffs, and a little white tank. Shelby was dressed about the same, but her tank was pink. Solidarity and all that. Her hair, however, was just in a ponytail.
"The hat doesn't go so good with the shorts," I pointed out.
He let his eyes run over my body, then looked across the table at Shelby. "Not so sure about that, girls. Hate to break it to you, but I'm a big fan of a country girl in Daisy Dukes, boots, and a real nice straw hat."
"I only have the Resistol," I reminded him.
J.D. grunted. "Well, I'm gonna have to fix that, huh?" Then he smiled at Shelby. "How 'bout you?"
She shook her head. "I actually hate hats. They never stay on, and just because I'm country doesn't mean I need to obey the dress code, right?"
He held up his fist in an invitation to bump it. "Oh, yeah. I'm with ya, honey."
Shelby did tap her knuckles against it, but her eyes were narrowed in concentration. "Bull?" she asked, reading the letters tattooed on J.D.'s knuckles.
"Yep." He lifted the other hand. "Was gonna put shit on this one, but I never got it done."
A little giggle slipped out of my lips when I got the joke. "You never got shit done?"
The smile he gave me wasn't the kind J.D. was known for. It was sweet, friendly... and beautiful. "I think you're the first person who got it." Then he leaned in to bump his shoulder against mine. "So I talked to Max, my rep. Says he's coming into Springfield late tonight, he's gonna get a room, then wanted to know if he could meet with us tomorrow to talk contracts."
"Yeah," I quickly assured him, "I'm going to still be here. You gonna be able to help me with this?"
J.D. chewed his lip. "Only a bit. See, truth is, I get a bonus if you sign, and they already own my name, so I can't really advise you about too much."
"Oh," I breathed, because I was hoping someone with a little experience might be able to tell me if I was getting cheated.
"But," he went on, "I can play footsie with ya if you're getting low-balled."
Without thinking, I leaned my head over onto his shoulder. "Thank you, J.D.!"
He just lifted his arm over my shoulders and gave a little squeeze. His hug felt almost awkward, like he wasn't real used to giving them, but I didn't actually care. The more time I spent with J.D., the more I liked him. As a friend. I might be crazy enough to ride bulls for a living, but that didn't mean I was crazy enough to actually date the bad boy of the PBR. Nope. I liked my clean record, thank you very much.
"So," Shelby said, changing the subject when she noticed my weirdness. "Who all is coming tonight?"
"Um," J.D. said, "we got a crew. Let's see, the three bullfighters, Jorge, Isaac, and Tanner. Then we have the top Brazilian rider, Renato Vieria, and his woman, Hannah. Might as well be his wife, but they're waiting for the baby before they get hitched." Then he looked at me. "And Ty. He's in St. Louis right now, taking care of some things, but said he'll show. I told him around seven?"
"Most of us start showing up at five," I admitted. "You know, to get in some swimming."
"Yeah? And your rodeo friends going to be there?"
"Friends?" Shelby asked.
"From Monday night," J.D. clarified. "Those bumpkins who think they have any place to talk shit about my rookie."
"They'll be there," I grumbled.
Shelby added, "Around here, everyone shows up to Gerardo's stacking parties. Only thing bigger is the turnout at church on Sunday. Until about sundown, it's a family sort of thing with a potluck dinner, but once the sun goes down? The drinks come out, the bonfire gets lit, and the old folks go to bed."
"Sounds like it might end up fun, then," J.D. said as he scooted to the edge of his seat. "'Scuze me for a minute, ladies. And if that waitress stops by, I need a Bud and a burger." Then he headed back toward the sign that said restrooms.
Shelby immediately leaned over the table toward me. "You know he's into you, right?" she asked, keeping her voice down.
"It's J.D.," I reminded her. "He's into him."
She scoffed. "Give that man a little credit, Cody. I mean, why do you think he wanted to take us to lunch?"
"For his signing bonus?" I guessed. "And because you were all but drooling on him the other night. Probably didn't hurt his ego at all."
She made a point of rolling her eyes at me. "And he's been completely focused on you since we got here. Hell, did you see the shirt he's wearing?"
I bit my lip to hide my smile. "You have to see what he sent me this morning." I said, while pulling my phone from my back pocket to show her the pic.
When I handed it over, the screen was filled with J.D. Adkins, bare-chested, and all of his tattoos. Never mind the eight pack of abs he was sporting. Shelby's eyes went wide, she sucked in a little breath, and then enlarged the image on the screen. Probably because she'd seen the same thing I had. Her next words proved me right.
"Maria?" she asked.
"His mom, and Isabella is his little sister, he said."
That got one nod, then she dragged her finger, looking at something else, and most likely up close. "Damn, but he's ripped. Manscapes, too."
"Shelby," I hissed, snatching my phone from her hands.
The picture was very focused on where his jeans had still been partly open. The hair from his navel down beneath his briefs was very short and smooth, never mind the bulge that proved it led to something impressive. I hit the button to close the picture, then put my phone back in my pocket, hoping my cheeks weren't as pink as they felt.
"That," Shelby said, "isn't what a guy sends a girl he isn't into. It's not what he sends another guy. So why, Cody, did he send it to you?"
"What about Ty?" I asked. "You know, hottest guy in the PBR?"
"Haven't met him," she told me. "And who knows, maybe he's great. Maybe you're doing that Cody thing again, where you decide that no one's going to be interested in you anyway, so you're willing to accept whatever it is you think you can get? But seriously, what happened to my best friend? The girl who doesn't care what anyone thinks?"
"Kinda still here," I pointed out.
"And so worried about what people think," she chided. "C'mon, Cody. J.D. is into you. Ty's chasing you. All around the country, dozens of women are dreaming of those guys, and they're chasing you. Why can't you just enjoy it for a little bit?"
"I am not a slut," I reminded her.
She held up a finger as her eyes flicked over my shoulder. "Hey, Vickie!"
"Hey, Shel," she said, pausing at the end of our table with a pad in her hands. "What can I get y'all?"
I pointed to J.D.'s seat. "Bud and a burger. I'll have the catfish and fries with a Dr. Pepper." Then I looked at Shelby.
"Cheese sticks," she decided. "Extra-large, extra ranch. And sweet tea."
"Can do," Vickie promised, then she looked at me. "Who's the guy? Boyfriend?"
"Mentor," I explained. "He's one of the riders with the PBR."
She hummed like that wasn't what she'd expected. "You know Cole and the guys were talking shit about you last night? Said some things that would make his momma wash his mouth out, and I'm not about to repeat."
I sighed heavily. "Doesn't he have anything better to do with his time?"
"Not since you were on the big screens here last weekend," Vickie said. "Hun, the whole town was in to watch you ride. Well, those who follow the stuff, at any rate. Some of them were making bets on how fast you'd come off."
"I rode all three," I told her.
She nodded. "Yep, and we all saw it, but that don't mean they liked it none. Cole and his boys least of all. Said they always placed better than you, and that there was no way it could be real."
"It's real," Shelby assured her. "And that guy sitting with us? That's the champion from last year. J.D. Adkins - and he said he's her mentor. She's riding in St. Louis this weekend."
Vickie smiled. "Oh, now that's going to piss Cole off. Cody, I don't know why you ever dated that dick."
All I could do was lift my hands. "Young and dumb?"
"The guy with the tattoos, though? Yeah, he's a bit of eye candy, if you know what I mean." Then she held up her pad. "I'll have them put this in and be back with the drinks."
"Thanks, Vickie," we both said.
But Shelby just pointed at me. "I'm not the only one who sees it. J.D.'s into you, and I think you need to enjoy that a little bit."
"And what?" I shot back, our conversation picking up as if we'd never been interrupted. "Just toss Ty to the side? Shel, I like him."
"There's no reason you can't play the field for a bit."
"Not interested in being the PBR slut. Thanks, but I'll pass. Hell, I'm not convinced I should date any of them. You know, there's a whole lot more to life than fast boys. You ever stopped to think that maybe I want to do something just for me, and even if that's bull riding, it's not because I'm trying to get a date?"
"Of course it isn't," she agreed. "But while you're making your big name, why not have a little fun? This guy looks more than willing to have a little with you. Wouldn't shock me if he's not the only one. Cody, you're beautiful. Maybe you're a bit of a tomboy, but there's nothing wrong with that, and plenty of guys like it. And you know what? Outside of this crap town, there are a whole lot more fish in the sea. Date a few. Sleep with a few. Kiss even more."
"But - " I tried.
She didn't let me get it out. "So Cole says you're a slut. You've been with one guy, one time. Know why? Because you scare them, Cody. You're not like the rest of us. You scare these boys because you make them look like they're maybe half the man you are. You push them. You aren't happy to just sit back and shut up, maybe throw a few things around the house when he stays out all night with the boys, and placate yourself with keeping the house clean. You, Cody, have dreams, and in a small town like this? Ain't nobody used to that. But out there in the PBR? Those boys prolly think they just found a kindred soul."
I liked what she was saying. I really did. That didn't mean it was easy to believe. All my life, I'd been the girl that didn't fit in. This whole town had made sure I knew that things would just be a little easier if I was more like everyone else. When I'd fought back, they'd turned to the blows that really hurt. The ones that made me feel worthless, and evidently, their words had left a pretty good mark.
"So... what?" I asked. "Should I just jump from bed to bed like that's ok?"
A grin spread over Shelby's face just as J.D. dropped down on the bench beside me. He flopped an elbow on the table and turned his head to meet my eyes. The look on his face was completely serious.
"Cody," he said, "If you're worried about what people are going to say about you, then go home. Because people will talk, and half of it will be trash. They'll say you're stupid, crazy, and yeah, a slut. Know what? It won't make you ride those bulls any worse. It won't make you any less impressive. And most of all, it sure doesn't change that you've already proven that you can do anything we boys can. And that includes a new fuck in your bed every night."
"Oh yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah," he promised. "Because I know at least three guys who'd like the chance, and I'm willing to bet there's more. Thing is, if you let those boys think that they picked you up, you're going to be behind the buck every time. Now, if you keep control..."
"You're saying that dating is like riding a bull?" I asked.
He grinned. "Just like it. Hold on for eight seconds, get off real good, and when you're done, kick that bad boy out the gate and don't worry about him again until you need another round. See, sometimes, it really is all about the competition, and if you don't think that's how we feel about the girls we take back to our rooms? Well, then you'll end up getting hurt bad, and the kind that sports medicine can't help with."
He tapped his chest, right over his heart, making it very clear what he was talking about.