Page 39 of Untamed
A bull on the PBR tour.
Three days more and I’m out of here. I don’t remember much about last night, but I do remember I was in this barn with Maesyn, and I kissed her. Turns out, I’m not so great at listening to myself. Instead, there’s a fucking magnet dragging my ass to her.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
And this kid, this tiny little version of Maesyn, she can’t take a fuckin’ hint that I don’t want to talk to her. “No.” I don’t have it in me to tell her to leave. Ever since Wyatt came along, I have a soft spot for kids.
“Do you like my sister?”
I want to fuck her. I want to protect her. Does that count as liking? Don’t ask a kid that. “Why?”
Morgan shrugs, twirling around in her sundress caked with dirt. She’s also barefoot. “Curious.” Her cheeks tint pink when she says, “She thinks you’re cute.”
I don’t answer. I’m hoping not to. The idea of Maesyn thinking I’m cute is laughable. I bet if I fucked her, she wouldn’t think of me and cute in the same sentence.
Reaching for the hammer to my left, I catch sight of Morgan’s nervousness around me. Her cheeks flushing when I glance at her or make eye contact.
She shifts her feet indecisively. “Everyone likes my sister.”
“I’m sure they like you, too.” Holding up a board with one hand, I steady the bottom with my knee and motion for the nails. “Hand me that box of nails.”
She thinks about my answer, the corners of her mouth tugging. She reaches for the box of nails and hands it to me. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
She leans in, her eyes wide like she’s about to give me nuclear missile codes. “Lemon Lou slept in my room last night . . . and he made a mess. How good are you at patching walls?”
“Patching walls? He’s a baby bull. Why you letting him in your room?”
“Because he gets cold at night and likes my room. Can I come watch you ride a bull?”
“Maybe.” I take a nail from the box and raise my hammer. I look at her, a side-glance.
“Why are you here? I heard you used to live here. Why’d you leave?”
Distracted, I nearly miss my nail and take my thumb off. “Why are you talking so much?”
She grimaces, and I see a flash of hurt feelings. Her expression makes me want to take back the words. “Are you mad?” Her eyes dart around the barn.
My voice softens, and I drop the hammer to my side. “No, I’m not mad.”
She smiles, like a weight’s been lifted. “I ask a lot of questions. Daddy says I talk too much.”
Now I feel like a dick. Running my hand through my hair, I nod to the house. “What’d Lost Lee do to your room.”
“Lemon. Lou.”
I laugh and follow her outside the barn. “My bad.”
I fix the hole in her wall, because apparently, I’m a slave to this kid too. And she talks constantly, like she warned that first day I met her. “Do you like Texas?” is her twentieth question as I’m packing up my tools on the floor of her room.
“I’m not there much, but I suppose I do.”
“Why?”
I look up at her. She’s twirling locks of her hair around her finger and chewing on a piece of gum she tells me she snuck into her room. “Why what?”
“Why aren’t you home much?”
