Page 73 of Untamed
A bull rider's free hand is the hand he does not use to grip the bull rope during a ride. The free hand must stay in the air throughout the ride. If it touches the bull, or the bull rider before eight seconds elapse, the rider is disqualified and receives no score.
I try not to think about her, but it’s useless. I’ve fallen hard like I’ve been thrown from the meanest bull only to get a face full of dirt.
Ty, Reid, and I leave for Biloxi on Thursday morning. Waiting to see if Maesyn’s going to show up there is torture. I’m unbearable waiting to see if she’s going to show. I don’t like not knowing. I think a lot on the drive to Biloxi and it’s when we arrive and I see Britany again that it hits me. What am I going to say to Maesyn about this? She’s going to find out about Wyatt . . . and Britany . . . fuck. I don’t regret asking her to come. If anything, I’m on edge waiting to see if she will come and am praying she does. I need to see her again. The way she trembled from my touch, leaned into my kiss, sighed when I held her that morning, she felt something for me. Truthfully, it scares the shit out of me because she’s not what I need at the moment, but in the same sense, I desperately need.
It’s in between autograph sessions when Britany pulls me aside. The morning started off shitty and goes straight to hell from there. I’m late getting to the venue only to have Britany grilling me with questions. She comes at me, eyes blazing when Ty outs me and tells her I invited Maesyn to the show tomorrow. “This girl . . . does she know?”
“Know what?”
Britany gives me the look. The one she gives moments before she slaps me upside the head for being dumb. “About Wyatt.”
I breathe hard and step toward her, trying to keep my voice only between us in a room full of bull riders and fans. This clearly isn’t the place to be having the conversation. “No.”
Her lips flatten in disappointment. Also a look I see often. She’s silent for several seconds. Then, without looking at me, she all but whispers, “Grayer. . . .”
I shrug. “What?”
“You invited her here and didn’t even tell her what’s she’s walking into.”
She doesn’t have to remind me. No one does. If anyone’s hard on themselves, it’s me. I carry my responsibilities for Britany and Wyatt on my back constantly. I swore I’d never involve anyone I didn’t trust in this, but Christ, what the hell does she want from me? “I figured it was best to show her.”
“Best for her or you?”
I hate to admit she has a fraction of a point. I shake my head, not in the mood to share. I’m not going to tell her that the moment I think of that wild blonde and her green-sea eyes my dick gets hard and I’m totally distracted. For fuck’s sake, it’s terrifying she’s gotten to me this quickly and the last thing I want to do is admit it. My words come out clipped and biting. “Can you leave two tickets for her at the booth?”
“Why two?”
“She probably brought her friend.”
She takes a deep breath. “Fine.” Britany looks at me sharply. Unhappily. And I get the impression I’m going to be getting this look often.
I can’t say I care, either. Despite being ranked number one in the world, only three points ahead of Reid and with eight events until the World Championships, I’m one-tracked at the moment. Pussy does that to you. Just ask Ty and Reid who had to ride ten hours in a truck with me. With every second that passes, I’ve become exceptionally more unbearable. I’m tense, short-tempered, and on edge. All that really boils down to is I’m really goddamn horny.
