Yes.
“Nope.” I popped the P, turning to fiddle with something on Hook’s saddle, lowering my gaze. “My focus is here.” I patted his coat.
“I know; you’re always focused. Saddle up, get him warmed up, and then put on a show. I’ll be in the crowd with Abi and Stet. We’ll scream so loud, you’ll be able to hear us.”
I gave a soft chuckle, slipping my boot into the stirrup and hoisting myself up into the saddle. “I’ll make sure to listen for it.” I looked down at my trainer, the person who first showed me support in this crazy ass journey of mine. “Round one.”
He cocked a grin. “Round one. See you after.”
I nodded and lifted my gaze one last time to Wyatt.
Except that time he was looking right at me.
Our eyes locked.
Even from a distance, I saw his lips twitch before he broke the contact, returning to whatever conversation he was having, that bright smile filling the darkness of the arena.
Without a second thought, I kicked Hook into a trot. I closed my eyes tight, willing my brain to focus on anything other than Wyatt Hartwell.
I saw the dirt in the Hartwell arena, Stetson helping me with the barrels—Wyatt sitting on the gate with his boots locked in the bars.
You belong on the dirt, don’t you? Watching you ride…you fit right in with the Hartwells. It’s about time we make it official.
I envisioned the rodeo in Flagstaff, a huge win for me, beating out a girl whom I had no qualms with until—Wyatt.
Oh, right—it’s your love I have to earn.
Dammit. I stopped Hook and breathed, Wyatt’s voice now filling my head.
Come on, Quinn. There’s only one girl I want to chase right now…
Tell me I’m not making this up—tell me this means more for you…
The only reason why I’m spectacular, Quinn, is because I’m wanted and loved by you…
We have more than tonight…
We had all the time in the world.
I pulled Hook into the corral and kicked him into a gallop, starting to run in circles to keep up with my mind. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on the ride, all I could remember were bits and pieces of the last year with him. Wyatt showing up at my door with food and drinks. Wyatt sitting next to me, enduring episode after episode of my silly favorite show. Wyatt lifting me into his arms after every ride. Wyatt listening to me when I needed someone to talk to about my life, and then notdwelling on the negative aspects of it, making sure I knew I was important. Wyatt’s lips on mine for the very first time. Wyatt’s warm comfort as I fell asleep. Wyatt—always chasing…
I was his everything…and he…
He was mine.
“Racers!” The shout pulled me from my spiral. A man wearing a headset and holding a clipboard began shouting off the order of riders. “As soon as the rider in front of you is done, you get your horse up to the gate—waste no time, that clock starts ticking the second your horse's hooves hit the dirt.”
Third. I was third.
Meaning…I was out of time.
And I really didn’t want to wait until later.
I twisted, reaching for the saddlebag, slipping my phone free. A text may not be the best way to get his attention, but for now, it was my only option. The thought of me screaming his name on top of a barrel flashed through for a second before the more reasonable thought hit. The first rider broke through the gate, the announcers sending the crowd wild.
I pulled up our text thread, one I’d been ignoring for months now. I saw his last messageI love you, and a gasp of hope left my lungs.
My thumbs shaking, I typed…
