Then it was time for the cowboy in front to go, and he conquered the bull, to the cheers of the crowd.
“Just keep your focus,” he said to her as she paid for her turn. As if she was playing in a championship game and not about to do something usually reserved for drunken shenanigans only.
She walked over to the bull and gripped the leather strap, hoisting herself up. “Don’t embarrass me,” she said, patting the headless beast’s shoulder.
It said nothing. Of course.
It wouldn’t have even if it’d had a head and was an actual bull.
Then it started moving, and she gripped it as tightly as she could with the one hand, and her knees, and she tried her best to keep the other arm thrown up in the air like she was a real bull rider, when what she actually wanted was to lie across its back and wrap both arms around it and cling to it like she was a baby possum.
She could feel herself starting to slip, and then she went flying. She landed inelegantly on the mats below, and realized belatedly that the dress probably wasn’t doing much of anything for her modesty.
Go her, for riding the bull in a dress. She wasn’t even a drunk girl and she was giving high-key drunk girl vibes, as her kids would say.
Or at least it’s something they would have said at one time. It might all be passé now. She wouldn’t know.
She realized she was still on the mats, feeling a little dazed, and she got herself back up. The cowboy met her at the edge of the mats holding a five-dollar bill.
“I’ll pay for your next ride.”
“Yeah,” she said, because she’d already done it. She’d already been thrown off unceremoniously in a dress. Why not try to emerge victorious? “Yeah, I’ll do it again.”
She got back in line and took a deep breath. That was when she felt it.
Him.
Looking at her.
She turned her head and saw Logan, sitting at the back of the bar at a table for two with a diet soda can in front of the empty chair across from him. He was drinking a beer, his gaze sharp as it cut through everyone in the room, hitting her with exacting accuracy.
She turned away and set her eyes on the bull.
She didn’t want to see his anger.
His anger wasn’t fair.
She was married to Will. There was nothing wrong with wanting that to work out. There was everything right with it. He was supposed to be Will’s best friend. Why was he even Will’s friend if he thought so little oftheirlife?
He wasn’t fair.
It was her turn on the bull again, and again she went. She was unseated even faster this time, but she was not deterred. Even before her cowboy friend held up another five, she’d been determined not to let it best her.
She didn’t know why.
She had no idea what she was trying to prove. To herself. To anyone. But she was damn well going to prove it. She got on the back of the bull and went down again. Then took another five and went again. And again.
Finally, on try number five, she did it. She conquered that bull. She stayed on the whole damned ride, and she didn’t care if was stupid, she’d done it. She’dneededto do it.
She was sweaty in her victory, but she was completely okay with it. All of the hair and makeup she’d done had likely at this point been for nothing.
But she had vanquished the bull.
Which she’d decided mattered, and if she had to make challenges to also create victories, why the hell not.
That was when her cowboy…touched her.
Like full-on wrapped his hand around her arm. “What do you say we go somewhere a little more quiet?”
