I do my best to settle in, an electric chargepulsing between us as the bucket seats jostle us, beginning their slow ascent to the top.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask, desperate to break the tense silence.
She glances up, holding me in her searching gaze. “Yeah, Ry. I’m having fun. It’s just been a lot. I thought I’d have more time to figure things out before reuniting with the whole town.”
My brows pinch, frustration with myself settling in.How could I have been so thoughtless?“I’m sorry, Lols. I hadn’t considered you might want some more time to settle in before a big event like this.” I reach out, taking her hand and giving it a tight squeeze.
She leans into the embrace, almost melting into the small point of contact. “It’s not your fault at all. I’d have been disappointed if I missed the fair, and I’m glad I came. I’m a little overwhelmed with all the attention and questions is all.”
“They’re all well-meaning, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating, does it?” I ask, recalling all the times I’d been asked after graduating college if there was any chance I’d still try to go pro with football or take over the ranch. After what happened with Logan, I had even less interest in going pro than I had prior, but that was too painful to admit.
“No, it doesn’t,” she says softly, shaking her head, her voice carrying a weight of something I can’t quite place. She leans into me, her cheek resting on my shoulder as we reach the peak of the ride. Below us, the town sprawls out, small and distant.
It kills me not to pull her closer, to press a kiss to the top of her head, to wrap my arms around her and just hold her. But I don’t. I resist. The tension between us is too fragile, and I know better than to push.
“Remember the time you snuck us out to the fair when Zeke and I were grounded?” I ask, the question slipping out as we begin our descent.
Lola’s laughter comes light and genuine, and it wraps around me, filling the empty spaces I didn’t realize were there. She leans further into me, her body warm and comforting against mine. "God, yes. I was just thinking about that earlier today. We thought we weresoslick, didn’t we? When we got home, we thought we’d pulled it off.”
I smile at the memory. "Your mom scared the piss out of me that night. When I tiptoed through the house and found her lying in my bed, wrapped in my comforter, acting like she’d just risen from the dead, I ran straight into Zeke in the hall, screaming.”
She laughs again, a sound that settles deep in my chest, like I’m hearing it for the first time. “Oh my god, yes! I still don’t know how they came up with that plan, each of them hiding in our beds to scare us. And here we thought we were so clever.”
"I think about that day every year," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "Mayte was so sure we'd get caught, that our social lives would be ruined. And, of course, she was right. After that, none of us could leave the house for anything except school, sports, and whatever random crafting club Mayte was in at the time." I shake my head at the memory, that familiar warmth of nostalgia creeping in.
Lola shifts, her hand brushing mine, her fingers lingering just long enough to remind me we’re still here, together.
The breeze cools the air around us, and I realize, as the world below keeps spinning, this simple, easy moment with her iseverything.
Chapter Eleven
BULL RIDER
SATURDAY, APRIL 26
We’ve spentthe whole night on all sorts of extremely questionable rides, making fun of Ryder and that disgusting chili contest, and eating massive amounts of cotton candy.
Not that it’s a surprise, but everyone has been so sweet and welcoming.
I’ve had a couple of people ask if I was planning to offer dance lessons. It gives me the hope I was missing and the courage I need to stick around and figure out a plan for myself. But every time I answer their questions, I’m reminded I have no idea where I’d even teach these classes. It’s frustrating, and after a while, it starts to wear me down.
As we make our way over to the lemonade,I see it.
That damn mechanical bull.
I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love it because I’d always been good at it and it’s so much fun. But in this moment,I hate itbecause I’m sure it’s the last thing I should be thinking about doing.
“Ryder, sweetie! Wait up!” I hear a high-pitched, familiar voice from behind me that sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and it immediately sours my mood, acid burning in my gut.
We turn around, finding Lemmon wearing some ridiculous floral dress that looks like it was designed for women during the patriarchy.
She flits her eyes over me with a disgusted look of disdain before centering her gaze on Ryder.
He tips his chin at her, winding an arm around me and resting his hand on my hip. He pulls me close to him and says absolutely nothing to her before turning us to face the other direction.
A pleased smile curves my lips.Always the protector, even if he hadn’t known the one person I’d actuallyneededprotection from was the woman he wound up marrying.
It’s selfish, but I’m glad they divorced. It was difficult to see them together, and while Russ’s controlling behavior is mostly to blame for my absence, seeing Ryder with Lemmon didn’t help.
