“It was a tap,” I say as I sit up and wipe the dust off my hands onto my jeans.
Royce stares at me. “A tap?”
“Yep. A little love tap.”
He offers me his hand, and I take it. I regret it right away. Everything aches, and Royce notices me wince.
I straighten slowly.
Then look for Natalia.
She’s standing near the fence, surrounded by students. The second she sees me, she hurries over. Her eyes are huge.
“Shit. Are you okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine.”
“You got kicked because of me.”
“Just another day at the office, kid,” I say as I walk it off and she follows.
“Now let’s talk about why you got bucked off. You let your hip drift out of position, which caused your weight to shift forward. Bram felt it and took advantage.”
Her mouth falls open.
I grin.
That’s what I wanted—to break the tension and get her attention off me. Guilt is no cowboy’s—or cowgirl’s—friend. Shit happens in the arena. And it’s nobody’s fault.
“You rode great. Just got a little loose at the end.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I point toward Bram. “You made it six seconds on that bull. Probably six and a half.”
A smile begins to appear. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Six and a half ain’t eight,” she mutters.
There it is. That drive for perfection.
Heart.
I can practically watch the wheels turning as she relives every twist and spin in her head.
“My hips got forward.”
I nod. “Yep.”
“I was trying to post up.”
“I know. But you pulled your chin too far up. Next time, keep it even with your shoulders so you don’t lose your center.”
“Even with my shoulders. Got it.”
