Page 75 of Untamed
When a rider "covers" his bull, he successfully stays aboard the bull for eight seconds and therefore earns a score for his efforts.
By the time we get there, the lights around the arena are bursting gold and blue and shining brightly over the city. It’s easy to see this is the attraction in the city. The sheer size of the event isn’t something I had been expecting. It’s like the parking lot of a rock concert.
Over the years, I knew professional bull riding had turned mainstream and these guys were huge stars, but I had no idea it was like this.
“I’m so excited!” I squeal, giving in to my girly side for a moment.
“Me too.” We change out of our sweaty clothes in the truck, and Haylee starts laughing when she gets hers off. “Do you see any truckers?”
I don’t. All I see around me is lifted dirt-covered trucks. “Nope. We’re safe.”
As I look through my bag to see what I want, Haylee’s half-dressed already and adjusting her cowboy hat. She slips a tank top on that’s fringed on the ends and a pair of frayed jean shorts. Slipping on her boots, she ties her top in the front to reveal an inch of her stomach. She reaches for her bracelets on the dash.
The wind had done a number on my hair, but with a little hairspray, it had that beach gypsy look to it. My braids were all knotted together and tangled with others. Taking the scarf I packed, I tie it up halfway in my hair to give it some sort of tamed look. I choose my skin-tight jeans with the rhinestones on the pockets and the matching buckle and pair it with a tank top and my boots. When I fasten the belt, I immediately think of Grayer last night and smile.
Haylee notices, the corners of her cherry red painted lips twisting up as she applies another coat of lipstick. “What’s got you going?”
“Thinking ’bout last night.”
“And...?”
I peek a look at her out of the corner of my eye as I pull my black and turquoise tank top on that says “Let’s Ride” in pink writing across the chest. “Let’s just say belt buckles do more than keep your pants up.”
“Oh, realllllly?” She’s completely intrigued, turning in the seat to face me as she continues to apply makeup.
I point to my tank top. “Too much?”
She reads it silently and then grins. “Nope. Perfect. Hopefully, he can read though.”
Reaching into my bag again, I dig out all my jewelry: cuffed bracelets, earrings, and the necklace I always wear. It seems a little much to get dressed up, but this is Grayer Easton I’m getting ready to see. Surely I have some competition with the buckle bunnies. I’ve never been the jealous type. I’m more of an admire her beauty without being threatened type of girl, but I do want to keep his attention. I have no idea what these kind of events are like.
It was still well into the nineties even with the sun down and the moment we’re dressed, I want my clothes off again. Everything is sticky and tight from the heat.
Before we get out, Haylee reaches for my hand and smiles. “I don’t care what happens next but this, us leaving together. . . .” She doesn’t finish her words, maybe she can’t, but the moment catches me off guard because Haylee’s always been the rock between the two of us. And now she’s sorta close to tears. “Thank you for this.”
I’m not sure what to say to her, but I speak from my heart like I always do. “Thank you for coming with me.”
At that moment, two wandering hearts leading us into the unknown, this is perfect. Together we left it all behind in search of ourselves, and maybe a bull rider.
When we’re dressed and ready, the moment we’re out of the truck, time becomes a blur and my stomach is in knots about seeing him again. If it wasn’t for Haylee, I don’t think I would have managed to get to the ticket booth.
“Do you still have any of that rum?”
Haylee laughs, looping her arm in mine. “No, it’s in the truck. Let’s go find us some bull riders.”
We walk. Actually, she kind of drags me toward the Mississippi Coast Coliseum.
“Can we get two tickets?” Haylee asks once we’re at the ticket booth. It’s apparent the event has already started by the lack of a line.
The ticket attendant looks up at us. “What’s your name? I have two tickets on call that I’ve been told to ask names for.”
“Uh . . . Maesyn Calhoun,” Haylee says, smiling back at me.
The attendant looks relieved. “Finally, the girls we’ve been looking for.” And then he hands us two front row tickets for the two-night show. “Enjoy.”
Haylee and I both gape at one another. Grayer had reserved two tickets for me on the chance that I did show up.
Be still, heart.
