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Snagging my rope from the panel, that went over my shoulder. My glove and tape went in my helmet. My hat went on my head. My protective vest was already on, even if I hadn't zipped it up. I'd managed to get my spurs on before the assholes had gone for my rope, so I was as ready as I was going to get.
Ty needed a little longer. While he got his spurs on and shrugged into his vest, I found his favorite glove, then a full roll of tape, and put those in his helmet the way I had mine. When I passed it over, the smile he gave me was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen.
This was the Ty I liked most. This version made my heart beat a little faster and I had to struggle not to bite my lip or blush like an idiot. Every so often, it hit me that I was with two of the best bull riders in the sport, and they weren't strangers.
No, Ty and J.D. had become friends. They were more than that, but friends was a very safe word, and one I could let slip accidentally. I still didn't really understand what these guys saw in me, but I wasn't stupid enough to ignore the chance to enjoy it.
So when Ty pressed a hand to my back and led me towards the chutes, I followed willingly. Outside the main room was a long walk through the cattle pens, and that was where Ty was headed. Not to the chutes, which were probably packed with riders waiting their turns. He led me over to a narrow alley that would let the staff check on the animals, then dropped his helmet and glove by his feet before propping a boot up on one of the bottom rails of the pen.
"Over there," he said, pointing, "is the score board. Out here, we won't get shit from the rest of the riders, but we also won't miss when our bulls start filling in."
"Nice," I said, putting my helmet beside his. "Cheyenne is nothing like Tulsa or St. Louis, huh?"
"Open arena," he told me. "Changes more than you'd think. The whole setup is a mess because this place isn't really made for PBR."
"Or maybe it's because PBR is designed to be in a closed convention center?" I countered.
He chuckled. "That too." Then he shifted over a bit to be a little closer. "You rode good yesterday, though."
"You did too," I reminded him. "Got a ninety-one on a mediocre bull. Does this mean you're gonna start putting some effort into this?"
His warm eyes caught mine. "Think I should?"
"Ty!" I huffed. "I think you're one of the cleanest and most technically correct riders I've ever seen! Why do you think I studied you for so long? I mean, you're too big to be a bull rider, but you still manage to make it look easy. Sure, J.D. places high, but he also risks everything. I have a feeling you could score just as well without all the injuries."
"Might make it harder for you to score," he teased.
I smacked his arm. "Believe it or not, I have been listening to you two."
"And?" he asked.
I shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious when it came to talking about my own riding. "I'm trying to learn as fast as I can. I mean, I'm spurring now. That's an improvement, right?"
"It is," he agreed. Then his smile warned me some teasing was coming. "Means we need to up our game a little more, eh? I'll ride more aggressively if you will."
I looked at him again, trying to find the joke in that. Instead, I found an honest offer. No, a challenge. Unable to stop it, a little smile began to tug at my mouth, so I thrust my hand at him.
"No quitting until Finals," I decided. "Winner buys the loser dinner."
"Oh, a date?" he asked.
"In public," I said. "No take-backs."
He slapped his hand against mine, and shook. "Cody, that's the kind of bet I have no intention of losing."
"And if you ride hard enough, you might even have the million dollar check to pay for it," I pointed out. "I mean, you have a real chance, Ty. I say go for it."
"Then you had best win Rookie of the Year," he told me. "Means we'd be on stage side-by-side. I think that's a poster I'd definitely wanna keep."
My smile broke free and I glanced down, trying to hide it. "Can you imagine?"
"I can," he said. "First woman to ride in the top series, first female Rookie of the Year. Yeah, I've been imagining, hun, and I think you can really do it. That's why I fucking hate those assholes giving you shit, so just don't ever let them chase you off, ok?"
"Promise." But my problem was a little more immediate than some jerks holding my rope out of my reach. "I'm honestly more worried about getting sponsors."
"They'll come," he assured me. "Cody, it's only your third event."
"Yeah, but I'm still the girl," I reminded him. "Means I have to be better than you guys to be taken seriously."
