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"And why would he want to help you get back with her?" Jorge asked.
Ty just shrugged. "No fucking idea. Pretty sure he shouldn't. Just figured it was worth saying. I dunno, kinda like letting you guys know I tossed all my pride in a dumpster back in Cheyenne."
"But she likes your pride," I pointed out.
"And I can't have both," he said as he kept backing towards his table and the waiting coffee. "If something's gotta go, this time I'm gonna be damned sure it's not something Cody would need to give up."
"That's a start," I told him. "Probably a shit one, but better than what you were doing."
"And shit is about all I got left," he admitted, lifting his hand for the waitress even as he slipped into his chair. "Sorry to interrupt."
Beside me, Isaac just shook his head. "Dunno why you didn't tell him to fuck off."
"Because," I said softly, making sure Ty wouldn't hear, "I don't think he's a bad guy. I just think he's as shit with women as the rest of us."
Jorge chuckled at that. "I'm not. See, I got this whole marriage thing figured out. Aubree tells me what to do, and I do it. Simple shit. Just listen to your woman - really fucking listen, not listen like you think you know better - and it's not even fucking hard."
"Noted," I said.
But that was the thing, Iwasmaking a note of it. I wasn't any better than Ty at dating. I just hadn't fucked up yet. I also wanted to make damned sure I didn't.
Chapter2
Eating alone sucked.And if I was honest, the overly helpful waitress flirting with me each time she came back wasn't helping any. Then again, sleeping alone sucked too. So did driving alone, which I'd done to get from Cheyenne to Iowa.
I'd tried to get over Cody by getting into another woman. Didn't work. Not only because J.D. Adkins had fucked it up. Nah, I'd been crashing and burning before that. Sure, the brunette from that bar would've jumped on my dick if J.D. hadn't said shit. Didn't mean I wouldn't have been alone.
That, right there, was my real problem. Back in Tulsa, a pretty little bull rider with a boy's name and a real woman's body had changed everything. From the moment I'd bought her that beer, I'd been a damned goner, and now she was gone.
I just wasn't sure what gone meant. Was this the kind I could fix? Was it the kind that meant she'd written me off completely? Was it the kind of gone that would only get worse if I tried? More than all of that was the big question I couldn't quite figure out.
Did it matter?
Because she'd been right. I'd fucked up. I'd fucked up bad, and that was starting to be my mantra. Every time my brain shut up for a second, those words began to spin through it on their own. I'd fucked up so damned bad. I just wasn't quite sure how.
I got the general idea. I simply didn't know how the fuck I was supposed to fix this shit. So once I had some food in me, I headed back to the hotel, pausing to buy the bullfighters’ meals just on principle. Those three would keep my ass alive. That Tanner was being cool was nice, but spending a few bucks to make sure they knew I was sucking up? Yeah, might keep me in one piece.
Sadly, another Marriott in another town didn't feel the same. The only sounds in my room were the air conditioner kicking on and the noises from the rooms around me leaking in. There wasn't a girl in the shower. There wasn't a friend laughing about something. Nope, it was just me, all on my own, and I couldn't fucking take it anymore.
So I headed for the one decent chair in this place and tossed myself into it. Then I pulled out my phone and scrolled down to find the one man who wasn't pissed at me right now. Well, not yet, at least. Pressing the button, I listened to it ring.
"Yeah?" Renato answered just before it went to voicemail.
"You riding this weekend?" I asked.
He laughed. "No. Shit's not quite as easy here as I'd hoped."
"But Hannah's ok?" I asked quickly.
His girlfriend was very pregnant. Too pregnant to tour with us anymore, and I knew she wasn't happy about that. He'd said he was going to take her back to his ranch in central Texas, but I'd expected him to be back with us by now. Kid or not, Renato didn't want to let his rankings drop too much or he wouldn't be qualified for finals.
"So," he said around a sigh, "Hannah doesn't speak Portuguese. My mama doesn't speak much English."
"Yeah, that's gonna make things hard," I realized.
"Mhm," he agreed. "And Mama isn't so happy about the floozy I knocked up."
"So you didn't tell her?"
