“Is everything okay?” he asks in a hurry. “How did it go?”
First, I pull him into me for a kiss, relishing the warmth that comes from him. Then we head inside and I go over everything that happened, including what Daisy said before they realized I was there. When I’m done, his eyes are bright and glossy, and there’s a dopey smile on his face as he reaches up and cups my face.
“I’m so proud of you, Shooter.”
Out of everything that’s happened today, out of everything that’s been said to me or on my behalf, that hits me the hardest. Those six words choke me up the most. Hearing them come from Sterling, hearing the reverence… it’s everything.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I admit hoarsely. “You’re my lucky cowboy hat, my early morning sunrise, my even thinking, and my deep breaths when my mind can’t settle down. You’ve become such a huge part of my everyday life in such a short time, and I honestly cannot picture being here, making it to where I am, without you.”
Sterling smiles, even as a fallen tear wets his lips. “You would because you’re so much stronger than you believe you are. But I’m so happy I got to be here to see you get here.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, my gaze roams over his beautifully carved features, a storm of emotions swirling around in my gut. “I love you, Sterling. And to be honest, I didn’t know if I’d ever say that to someone in my lifetime. I never saw this for me, never thought I was capable of it, but with you, everything is different. And I mean it; I am in love with you.”
Climbing into my lap, his arms wrap around my neck, eyes overflowing with emotion that matches everything filling inside of me. “I love you,” he breathes like a whisper. Like it’s only meant for me to hear.
A small, knowing smile plays on the corner of his lips before he seals his mouth to mine. Sterling kisses me like he’s trying to prove how much he means those words, and I kiss him back all the same. Being here with him, with the weight of today’s conversation off my shoulders, I feel truly okay…maybe more than okay, for the first time in I don’t even know how long. Like maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is finally in sight.
I don’t know what the future holds for me and bronc riding, but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, whatever it is, I’ll be okay.
41
Sterling Addams
December, Two and a Half Months Later
You ever have adrenaline coursing through you at a speed unheard of that it makes you a little queasy? That’s where I’m at right now. My limbs are shaking, my stomach’s twisted into knots on top of knots on top of knots, my heart is pounding behind my ribs, threatening to punch straight through, and bile sits at the base of my throat, inching its way up before creeping back down.
Over and over and over again.
The seconds tick by too dang fast. No amount of steady breathing and downward dog could’ve prepared me for this level of intensity. This caliber of nerves hitting me all at once. The noise in the stadium is deafening, the air practically vibrating with enthusiasm and excitement. An enthusiasm and excitement I match underneath the nausea and the jitters.
I’ve dreamed about this day for so many years. Never did I truly think I’d find myself here—especially not in my first year—but alas, here I am.
National Finals Rodeo.
Unlike last year, where I was sitting in the stands—a watcher, a bystander, a crowd goer—this year, I’m in the thick of it. I’m competing… for a chance at the world title. I could walk out of here tonight with the buckle, the cash, as a champion. But even if I don’t leave here with all of that, I still made it. I still worked my ass off and secured a spot in the lineup.
I did this.
It’s my time to show the world what I’m made of. As I lower myself onto the bronc, I give a quick glance around the arena. Taking in the lights, the music, the people, but I don’t stare too hard. I don’t want to spook myself. I can feel one gaze in particular. One that I refuse to meet, because it’ll make my stomach do somersaults for an entirely different reason, and those aren’t nerves I need right now in addition to everything else going on inside my system.
Shooter’s in that crowd. If I had to guess, somewhere near the very front row, close to the chute. He wanted to stay in the back with me, but I refused. Similar to how I won’t let myself watch my competition before I go out, for some reason, I can’t look at, talk to, breathe the same air as the current bareback bronc world champ. Don’t ask me why, I don’t have a clue. It’s been a little over two hours since I saw him last, and the words he whispered into my ear before he kissed me still ring through my mind as if they were just spoken.
“Go out there and kick some rodeo ass, baby, and a repeat of last year will wait for you after.”Then he proceeded to slap my ass and tell me how juicy it looked between my chaps.
Such a romantic, that one.
After ensuring all the ropes and bells and whistles are adjusted to my liking, I give a nod to my team, and by the time I drag in a lungful of air, I’m catapulted out of the chute. Earlier this morning, I was worried I’d get out here and freeze, or forget what I’m supposed to be doing under the pressure of what’s on the table. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I don’t even have to think; my body knows exactly what to do as it fluidly moves to-and-fro. Like we’re linemates, the bronc and I move as one. I easily predict her next move, following her lead.
Blood roars in my ears, my head light and free of any doubt. I was made for this. Made to ride, to compete.
The eight-second buzzer goes off, and the next minute and a half goes by in a blur of crowd roaring, clapping, and a steady hum in my mind. By the time my feet hit the dirt, I’m ready to take off and find Shooter, no matter the score, no matter the outcome. As if we’re thinking on the same wavelength, I hear my name shouted through the crowd, and when I glance up behind the plexiglass, in that front row is a wide-eyed, toothy-grinned Shooter, hands closed into fists as they pump into the air.
Our eyes lock, and it’s like everybody else in here vanishes. It’s him and I, and the radiating pride fluttering out of him.
“You did it!” he shouts. I can barely hear him. It’s more reading lips with how loud the arena is right now. “You fucking did it, Addams!” His hand slaps against the glass before he adds, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I’m sucking your dick so good after this!”
My heart stops beating entirely, dropping directly into my gut as my cheeks flame hot and what I’m sure is bright red. Eyes snapping to the left and right of him, I relax a little when I see it’s just our friends beside him, but mortification washes over me when the people behind him snicker at his comment.
