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"Talk to me, Cody?" he begged.
I just shook my head, mostly because that was the best I could manage.
So J.D. shoved a hand across his mouth. "You dumped him or he dumped you?" he tried next.
"I did," I mumbled, but the words were too high, too pinched, and too weak-sounding.
So his head rocked slowly. "Something happened out there?"
Yep, that did it. Thrusting a hand out in what I hoped was the direction of the parking lot, I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs, but held it down to a pissed-off hiss.
"He chased off my fans, J.D.! You know I need the sponsors, but if anyone looked at me, he was glaring back, moving between us, and then heshoved- actually shoved - the one guy who wanted me to sign a poster. I hadone!"
"Oh, you had more," J.D. promised. "They just couldn't see your short little head out there."
"Or Ty was chasing them all off," I grumbled. "So I told him to stop, and he got pissed, and..."
That was where my voice decided to get all tense again, so I shook my head. From the look on J.D.'s face, it was enough. He understood. And from the softness in his gaze, I got the feeling he'd figured out that asking more wasn't helping me any.
"So fuck him," he decided. "For the rest of today, fuck all of this."
"I need - "
He caught both sides of my face and made me meet his eyes one more time. "I know," he breathed. "Trust me, I know, but listen to me. Just this ride. Just this bull. All the rest of this bullshit? We'll fucking deal with it later. Right now, you are Cody Jennings, the amazing woman showing the PBR that she's hot shit. You are my goddamned rookie, you hear me? You are a fucking badass, and fuck the whole fucking world."
Yeah, that was what I needed, so I jiggled my head, but not so much that I broke his touch. Those soft brown eyes flicked from one of mine to the other, then he nodded once as if he'd found what he wanted.
"Wanna hit somethin'?" he asked.
"Yeah," I admitted, but the words were a mumble.
"Then take it out on the bull, Cody." His voice shifted to something hard and sharp. Dangerous. "You take all that anger you're holding on to right now - and everything else you're feeling - and you push it right down into your boots. You let it sit there, stewing, and when you get on your bull, let it all loose. That's what makes you strong. That's how you push through it. That, rookie, is what separates the men from the boys, you hear me?"
I nodded, feeling like something inside me was letting go. It started with the pinching of my throat, but the vice grip on my chest wasn't as intense either.
"And you just pretend like none of the rest of this exists," he went on. "Keep your head down if you wanna, or up if that feels better. Just know that in nine years, I ain't never had no one at my side like you. I don't call you my rookie cuz I think you're hot. I mean, ya are, but that's not why. I say it because you're that damned good. You hear me?"
"Yeah..."
"But ya don't believe me," he grumbled. "Well, all them boys out there do, and that's what's got Austin's panties in a wad. You are the best fuckin' bull rider in the building. You might be new, and ain't no one figured that shit out yet - 'cept me. But you know what these boys do to the good ones? They beat my ass behind the chutes for being half Mexican when I started. They're trying to beat you down another way. Tell yourself that. Scream it out loud if you have to. Fucking punch a wall if it makes you feel like you're holding on to that fight." His thumb swept across my cheek. "Just not with your riding hand, ok?"
That earned him a breath of a laugh. "I'm still right-handed."
"Trust me, I know," he promised. "Now, when we get out there, you're gonna unlock your phone and give it to me. I'm gonna send your daddy a text, so that's one less thing for you to worry about. Then, we're gonna get our shit, look like the devil done come down to the PBR, and go lord over these idiots out by the chutes. Get me?"
"I got ya," I assured him.
His eyes dropped to my lips, but he let go and stepped back. "Yeah, you get me."
Then we headed back to our gear and did exactly that. Maybe J.D. was pulling a bit more of his typical "asshole mode" than he had in a while, but I was ok with it. It also made me feel like it was ok for me to be a snappish bitch.
Not that I was, but I was pretty sure that if I said anything, it wouldn't have come out all sweet and polite. So, once we were ready, the pair of us stormed up the alley between the cattle pens and found an empty spot at the back of the catwalk. From there, we could watch the other riders, distracting ourselves - mainly me - by critiquing their form.
Until Ty came out of the chute.
I checked the scoreboard, surprised to find him in fifteenth, and then I remembered that he got bucked off yesterday. No, I would not let myself care about that. Instead, I tried to force my eyes to Tanner, watching him shift and prep for the buzzer to go off.
I didn't want to see Ty's amazing form. I didn't want a glimpse of his sexy smile under the boring black helmet he was using today. I certainly had no interest in checking out his ass, chest, or anything else. But when the pyrotechnics went off, Tanner rushed in, hooking Ty around the waist to move him out of the way, and the bullfighters got the bull out in seconds.
