And then something else follows right behind it.
Something I don’t like nearly as much.
Because I shouldn’t care.
Not like that.
Not enough to feel anything when another woman walks up to him.
We’re not… anything.
Not really.
Last night doesn’t change that.
Or at least, it shouldn’t.
But standing here, watching him shake off that interaction like it didn’t mean anything while my chest is still tight from it, I can’t ignore what that says.
About how quickly things are shifting into something I don’t have control over.
I glance down at Hadley, her attention still fixed on the arena, completely untouched by any of this, and that grounds me faster than anything else.
This is why I have to stay clearheaded.
This is why I can’t let myself get pulled into something that isn’t steady.
Because this world…
his world…
comes with things like that.
With women who walk up like they belong there.
With a life that doesn’t slow down or simplify just because I showed up.
And I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into that.
Or if I even should.
The next rider swings up, settling into position with a confidence that looks practiced, controlled, the same way Jace did just minutes ago.
I try to breathe through it this time.
Try to tell myself, I've seen rodeo's before, I have seen all these guys rodeo back in the day. I used to watch Jace before I got pregnant and moved away. I understand the rhythm, that not every ride ends in disaster just because it could.
But the second the gate cracks open, something shifts.
It’s small.
Subtle enough that I almost miss it.
The rope doesn’t sit right.
I don’t know how I know that. I don’t know enough about any of this to be sure, but there’s something off in the way the rider adjusts his hand, the way his grip tightens a fraction too late.
Then the gate slams open.
