Page 94 of Reckless Skye

TJ unbolted the right door, Skye the left. ‘Rodeo kid, remember.’

He braced his entire body as he lowered the ramp down for the horses. Skye didn’t step in or take over, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it, but it hurt to watch him sometimes. She itched to go to him. To help. To do something. Because, whatever their history, she still carried a deep and real sadness for what had happened.

‘You know, TJ, I never apologized …’

TJ frowned as he stepped into the trailer. ‘For what?’

Skye bit the corner of her lip when her eyes burned. She’d always thought the memories would fade; instead, she could remember that exact moment he’d raised his eyes up to the stands, looking for her. She could still see his cheeky grin. And then the moment the bull hit him.

TJ rummaged around in the tack compartment, then looked out at her, repeated, ‘Skye, for what?’

‘For distracting you that day.’ The words were said quietly. And when TJ didn’t reply, just stared at her, she started rambling. ‘I’ve played it over in my head so many times. And every time, I think of some way things could have been so different.’ Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. She’d get this off her chest. Finally. ‘Your life could have been so different.’

TJ stepped off the back of the trailer. He stood right in front of her, and even though there was a part of her that wished he’d reach out, just once, he didn’t. He just said, ‘Skye, look at me.’

She tipped her head back.

‘Don’t ever fucking apologize for that again.’

She’d expected him to argue, of course. But she hadn’t expected the rage. The fury. ‘If I hadn’t been there—’

‘If you hadn’t been there, I would never have known what it felt like—’ He bit off whatever else he wanted to say with a sharp twist of his head. But his green eyes stayed angry.

‘I think about it all the time,’ Skye whispered as her vision went glassy.

TJ laughed bitterly. ‘Yeah, me too. But only because it was so pointless. So fucking stupid. If I’d just been paying attention, like I was trained to, like I was supposed to … But in that moment …’ TJ’s eyes glazed over. ‘I was king of the fucking world – and cocky with it. Careless. I had triumphed over the bull. I had my girl in the stands, and she’d watched me do it.’ He met her eyes again. ‘I don’t think anything will ever beat that single second in time. A lot of people will never know that feeling.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe the bull was God’s way of levelling my playing field.’

Twin tears fell from her eyes.

TJ raised his hands as if to swipe them.

Skye braced, not in trepidation. In anticipation – of that touch, that contact.

But TJ saw her rigid posture, and he misinterpreted it. He lowered his hands back down, said, ‘Don’t carry what’s not yours, Skye. It pisses me off.’

Disappointed, Skye lashed out. ‘Says the man who’s inserted himself into every facet of my life when I didn’t ask him to.’

TJ searched her face. ‘Does it bother you that much that I care? That I want to make sure you get through this unscathed?’

She rolled her eyes, but TJ didn’t let her get away with avoidance.

‘No. Don’t do that. Be honest with me,’ he insisted. ‘Would you rather do this alone?’

‘No.’

‘Well then.’

He stepped back into the tack compartment.

Skye couldn’t help but ask, ‘What would you have done if I’d said yes?’

‘Said, “Tough shit,” and stuck to you anyway,’ he replied.

Skye scowled at his back.

‘This weekend, you have two performance go-rounds. Back to back. The top three averages from each bracket advance to the semi-finals. There’re three semi-final performances on Saturday. Only the top four from each semi-final performance move on to the finals on Sunday. Which means—’

‘Which means I have to place in the top twelve to make the finals. I know.’