The fame. The buckle. None of it matters. Not one bit. All I want is to hear those words from her lips.
I don’t want to spend my last moments on a bull. I want to spend them hearing her whisper that in my ear.
And then I’m off, swinging a leg over the fence.
“Eaton! What you doing?” one of the coaches calls out to me as I drop onto the landing and toss my helmet, reaching for my favorite brown hat instead.
“I’m done.”
“You’re what?” The guy looks genuinely fucking confused.
“Consider this my retirement notice. I’m out. That bull gets a night off.”
And Theo wins his first world title.
And I live to breathe another day. That part is pretty important too.
I stride through the staging area, heading straight for the door that leads out to the stands. It’s all a guess because I only have a general idea of where Summer is seated.
But I told her I’d keep coming back for her. That I’d never stop. And that’s what I’m going to do.
I turn up a flight of stairs and end up on the busy mezzanine, trying to decide between section 116 and 115. I choose 116, and shoot up those stairs, ignoring the stitch in my ribs as I do. I have tunnel vision, and I’ve overshot the section by one.
But I don’t care. Rather than going back down, I turn down one of the aisles. I see Summer standing, palms pressed against her cheeks, face white as a sheet. Eyes brimming with wetness.
I did that. I want to never make her cry again.
“Pardon me. Excuse me.” I smile and push my way down as people stand to let me pass.
“Can I grab an autograph?” someone asks.
“In a minute. Need to do something first.”
Murmurs follow me across the entire section, and then I’m at Summer’s aisle seat. Her back is turned to me, still facing down at the bull chute, standing on her tippy toes trying to see back to the staging area. Not a clue that I’m not back there anymore at all.
I’ll definitely go down in this league for the most dramatic retirement, so maybe that’s something.
And then I can’t stop myself. I’m reaching for her. Sighing when my hands wrap around her upper arms. It’s like all the anxiety that was coiling inside me just ebbs away.
Like I found what I was looking for—who I was looking for.
She spins on me, big brown doe eyes and perfect puffy lips. “What are you doing?” she breathes, hands falling instantly to my chest as though she’s checking to see if I’m real.
“I could ask you the same thing, Princess.”
“Fuck my life, he calls you princess, too? Ugh. Unfair.” A lanky redhead standing behind her crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. But she’s got a playful expression on her face. I like her instantly.
Summer ignores her, getting so lost in my eyes that she almost looks like she’s somewhere else for a moment. “I just...I had to be here. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being here alone. You’re...” Her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes. “You’re it for me too.”
A stray tear streaks down one cheek and I swipe it away before gently combing her hair back behind her ear and cupping her head in my palm. “Please don’t cry. It kills me when you cry.” I pull her close, pressing her to my chest.
And it feels so fucking right. Her arms snake around me gently, fingers trailing carefully over the sore side of my ribs. Always thinking about me.
Just like I’m always thinking about her. It took me a while to piece together why, what it means, and how I prove it to her.
Maybe I am just as dumb as Cade says.
“You need to go back down there and ride your bull. This is your championship to win.” She sniffles against my chest.