Page 15 of Untamed
The bull rope is what the bull rider grips throughout the ride. It is wrapped around the chest of the bull directly behind the animal's front legs. At the bottom of the rope hangs a metal bell designed to give the rope some weight so that it will fall off the bull as soon as the rider is bucked off or dismounts the animal.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I think of her long after she leaves. I can’t remember the last time that’s happened. I don’t like to admit this, but I’ve been with a lot of women, too many to even give you an accurate number. But then again, would it matter? I don’t think it does. Once you break double digits they all start taking on names like “bitch from the bar” or “needy waitress at the restaurant.” None of them are memorable.
“I know who you are.”
I think about those words and what they meant. But even as I mull it over in my head, I can’t stop my next thought,is she really eighteen?
Fuck, Grayer. You know better than to mess with underage girls.
I watch her walk away, and regardless of what she just did for me, something about her seems untouched, undiscovered, but there’s no way in hell she’s a virgin. No woman who knows her way around a dick like she does is a virgin.
Rubbing my eyes, I shake my head, looking away from her. What the fuck was I thinking? What if she’s underage? I know better. It’s the whole reason why I left Ellensburg in the first place and the first night I’m back I go and make a mistake like this?
Nice. Should have let Reid come and take care of this bullshit or at least come with me. He wouldn’t have made a mistake like this, and more importantly, he wouldn’t have let me.
When she’s out of sight, I tuck the bottle of whiskey under my seat and pull out of the field. I call Britany on the way back to my dad’s old place to make sure Wyatt made it to bed okay and didn’t give her too much trouble. Remember when I said I had baggage? Well, that baggage is cute as fucking ever and nearly two. He comes with a baby mama who is probably my best friend and also engaged to my older brother. Believe me, I know howJerry Springerit sounds.
I’ve known Britany for about four years. Met her two days after we moved to Decatur. We started out as friends, should have stayed just friends, but got drunk and slept together a couple times. Twice actually. And then we, mostly her, decided we were better off as friends because she discovered, as most women do, I’m pretty shitty boyfriend material. We were never actually dating though. A month later, she found out she was pregnant.
We talked, she talked, I listened, and decided to raise the baby together as friends. Being friends with me proves to be difficult for most and you’d think it’d be hard for a girl, but Britany’s a saint and the most loving person I’ve ever met in my life. Aside from my mother.
While she’s now with my brother, it’s not weird at all. I mean, yeah, sometimes when you’re explaining it. Britany is a great girl and Reid, an equally great guy. They’re happy. I’m happy. And that means that Wyatt’s happy. That’s us, one big happy family. Mostly.
Despite it nearing midnight, she answers, her voice thick with sleep when she says, “Hello?”
It’s then I feel bad. I forgot the time difference and the fact that she was probably sleeping. “Hey, shit. Were you sleeping?”
She sighs. “Yes, jerk. Why are you calling this late?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to check on Wyatt. Did he get to sleep okay for you?”
I can hear the shifting of blankets and her getting up as she muffles the phone, saying, “It’s Grayer. Go back to sleep,” and then says to me, “Yeah. He went down pretty easy after asking where you were about a dozen times. He’s sleeping with that toy bull you gave him. Which, I’d like to add, he hit me with for taking away his cookie before dinner.”
I smile, thinking of my blond-haired blue-eyed boy. Even though he’s a bit of a handful at times, we wouldn’t trade the ornery little thing for anything. Being that I was twenty when Britany got pregnant, the last thing I wanted was to be a dad that young. He might not have been planned, or brought into the world with his parents happily married, but he’s loved by both of us and in a stable environment. He lives with both of us, equally. It’s not like we have a parenting plan. With the crazy schedule I have, and life pretty much on the road from January to October, Britany is by far the best mother in the world to him. She totes him around the PBR events and still manages to give him a normal upbringing. When I’m home in Texas, he’s with me. It just kind of works out and so far without too much of a snag.
We make small talk for a moment, not something I do well, when I tell her, “I should be back in a couple weeks. Just need to tie up a few loose ends around here.” She knows me though and senses my mood’s off even before I do.
“What’s wrong? You sound irritable.”
I am, but she doesn’t need to know why. She’d kill me if she knew what I did tonight. And not because we have something going. I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want with other women, but because she knows the trouble my brothers and I got into here and why it was such a hassle to come home. It wasn’t like my dad planned on dying though. Death happens, suddenly and sometimes unplanned, and you’re forced to adapt and figure shit out.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“Bullshit. I’m raising a little boy who doesn’t just look like you. He isyou, and just like I know when he’s off, I know when you’re off and you’re definitely not yourself. What’s up?”
I’m irritated she’s bringing this up, but then again, I called her, so I guess I shouldn’t get mad at her for asking. “I said nothing.”
“Are you staying out of trouble? Are people giving you shit for being back?”
“I doubt they even know I’m back. I got the deed from Kade tonight.”
“And?”
I wait. Fuck. She’s gonna know.
“Grayer. . . .”
“It’s nothing.”
“Oh, my God. You met a girl, didn’t you?”
My heart pounds in my chest at the mere thought of Maesyn. But I laugh, trying to blow it off. “I should go.”
“Dude, you better be careful.”
“I am,” I lie, again.
