Page 61 of Wild & Worthy

I look over at her. What the hell did I just stumble into? For half a second, I consider texting Chace just so someone knows where I am, but then again, fuck him. If he wanders back to camp and finds me missing, let him be the one to worry for once. Serves him right.

“What exactly is this? This doesn’t look like any jackpot I’ve ever been to.” I ask as we pull into a long line of trucks and cars parked across a field, basically one giant makeshift parking lot.

Alexis just shrugs and grins at me. “Some of the folks like to place private bets. I don’t get into all that. It’s mostly just a fun night to let loose before the big runs on the weekend. The drinks are cheap, and the cowboys are hot.” She laughs like this is all completely normal.

I’ve heard of these kinds of events before. They pop up around Montana too, usually out on private ranches where nobody asks too many questions. Every once in a while, one ends up on the local news after somebody gets hurt. They call them unsanctioned rides, and more often than not, they’re an excuse for people to throw money around betting on wild bulls and reckless cowboys. Technically, there’s nothing illegal about some idiot climbing onto a bull in his own field. The betting is what makes it shady.

Unease and guilt settle deeper in my gut. What would my brother say if he knew I was at an event like this? I shove the thought aside and force a grin at Alexis. “Sounds good. My lips are sealed.”

I climb down from the truck and tug at my cutoff shorts, which have been digging into my crotch the entire ride over, but it does little good. They’re so damn short the bottom curve of my ass still peeks out, and the top I chose dips low enough that the lacy bra underneath is doing most of the work keeping my breasts covered. Suddenly, I’m starting to regret what I decided to wear.

When I was getting dressed, my only thought had been showing up back at camp, late, wearing this and seeing the look on Chace’s face. I’d already been anticipating the argument we were probably going to have, thinking fuck him, I can have fun too. Maybe I’ll find a new cowboy to pine over tonight. Maybe I’ll finally make good on what I told Chace weeks ago about just wanting to get fucked.

You’re not a one-time-fuck kind of woman. You deserve a man who won't want anyone else after having you.

Fuck me. Chace is right. This isn’t me. Not at all. But by the time that realization settles in, we’re already making our way toward the makeshift arena, the crowd ahead of us loud enough that I can hear the chanting before we even reach the fence.

“Oh good!” Alexis squeals beside me. “We made it just in time for the bull rides!”

My mind immediately goes to Chace. I wonder if he knows about this place. Hell, with how long he spent on the circuit, he probably knows half the people here. We push our way toward the fence line, Alexis stopping every few feet to greet someone she knows. When we finally get close enough to see the chutes, my stomach twists.

One of the bulls is absolutely losing his mind, throwing his weight against the metal hard enough to rattle the entire setup. It takes several men just to keep everything in place. If you can even call it a chute. The whole damn thing looks dangerous as fuck, which is saying something considering bull riding is already one of the most reckless things a person can willingly do.

A rider climbs up onto the rail beside the bull. I can’t see his face as he settles on its back, just his broad shoulders beneath a vest. He has long legs, and there’s something familiar about the way he rolls one shoulder before reaching down and grabbing the rope.

My stomach drops. No. There’s no fucking way he’d be THIS reckless.

I stare harder, trying to convince myself I’m imagining it. Plenty of cowboys are built like Chace. Plenty of bull riders probably have the same little habit of rolling a bad shoulder after years of climbing into chutes.

When he turns his head in my direction, our eyes catch, and my blood runs cold.

Chapter twenty-two

Chace

The second my eyes lock with hers, I know I’m a dead man. Everything else around me disappears. I no longer feel the bull shifting beneath me or hear the crowd roaring in my ears. It all fades into nothing because Addie is standing there staring back at me like she can’t decide whether to climb over the rail and drag me off the bull or kill me with her bare hands.

What the fuck is she doing here?

That thought worries me more than the fact that I’ve been caught. This is the last place I ever wanted her to be. These underground rides are always a little sketchy, but tonight is the worst I’ve seen. Temporary panels have been thrown together wherever they fit, half of them looking like one good hit from an angry bull would fold them completely. People are packed entirely too close to the holding areas, beer cans are everywhere, and cash is changing hands right out in the open. Add to that the fact that security is basically nonexistent, and the whole place feels like a disaster waiting to happen.

I need to get her the fuck out of here before she gets hurt. Not to mention, this is the last place someone trying to climb the standings and land better sponsorship for next season needs to be seen. And yet here she is, standing in the middle of this shit show looking at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind.

The bull shifts hard beneath me, finally pulling my attention from Addie and reminding me where I am. My hand is already wrapped in the rope, biting tight around my glove.

Wyatt is straddling the rail beside me with one boot braced against the chute. “Chace. You good, man?”

I glance back up in Addie’s direction, and his eyes follow mine. The second he spots her, his expression changes. “Well, shit.”

He looks back down at me. “She’ll still be glaring daggers at you in eight seconds, man.” He gives the rope one final pull. “Let’s go.”

He’s right, and I fucking hate that he’s right. But before I give the signal that I’m ready, I look up at him. “Get her the fuck out of here.”

Wyatt nods, then signals for the gate to open.

The bull explodes out of the chute hard enough to snap every thought of Addie straight out of my head. My body takes over on pure instinct. I settle into the motion, knees tightening as the bull launches forward and twists beneath me. My riding hand is locked into the rope while the other stays high and clear. The pull through my shoulder burns like a motherfucker, but I barely register it. There’s no room for anything except the beast underneath me and the next fraction of a second.

This is the part I fucking missed.