Page 154 of Sunrise & Serenity

I chuckle before I can stop myself.

Rick cocks a brow. “There he is.”

I ignore him. To be honest, I’d almost forgotten he was here. But the laugh leaves a rawness in its wake. For a minute, I almost felt normal. Then I remember that Sage isn’t here, her camera lifted to her face. She isn’t going to pester me with bright-eyed questions about how this all works. When I climb into bed later, my sheets won’t smell like her.

I shove away from the fence. “I’m gonna walk.”

Rick’s brows draw together, but he doesn’t stop me.

The hallway behind the chutes is all concrete, cigarette smoke, boot scuffs, and old posters curling at the edges. Riders sit on benches, taping wrists and icing ribs. Someone laughs too loud near the vending machines. A kid pukes into a trash can, then wipes his mouth and heads back toward the chutes like nothing happened.

This world hasn’t changed. I have.

By the time the event wraps up, my ears are ringing from arena noise. Riders have begun to head toward the parking lot when Tyler catches me near the exit tunnel.

“We’re heading over to Redline,” he says. “You coming?”

I want to say no, but hell, I need to get back to some kind of normal. So I shrug. “Sure.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m leaning against the bar at a place that looks just like every rodeo bar in America. Neon beer signs. Country music too loud to talk over properly. Pool tables crowded with riders still half-dressed from competition.

“McBride,” the bartender says with a grin. “Been a while.”

I dip my chin. “Yeah.”

“Are you still drinking whiskey, or are you making better choices these days?”

I work up what I hope is a friendly smile. “Beer’s fine.”

Tyler and a few other guys take over one of the tables near the back, but I stay at the bar, watching the crowd move around me.

Halfway through my beer, a brunette slides onto the empty stool beside me. “Holden, right?”

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s mid-twenties. Pretty. The kind of woman rodeo bars are full of.

“Depends.”

She laughs softly. “That usually means yes.”

I nod toward the dance floor. “Pretty sure there are easier ways to meet guys in here.”

“Probably.” She rests an elbow on the bar. “But none of them have won two world titles.”

I stare straight ahead and take another sip of my beer.

She keeps talking. Something about Tulsa, and about watching me ride when she was younger.

I catch maybe half of it.

Because suddenly all I can picture is Sage standing next to me in that stall, with dirt on her face and her whole body lit up as Trouble wobbled to his feet for the first time.

Blowing out a breath, I scrub my hand down my face.

“Are you okay?” the woman asks.

“Fine.”

I seem to be saying that a lot lately.