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"Good." Then Tim patted my shoulder. "And good luck with your ride. A few of us are sticking around, just to make sure you're good."
He meant safe. Oddly, that made me feel better. No, fuck that. It made me feel good, almost like I wasn't the pariah I'd been feeling like earlier today. As Tim sauntered away, I stood there smiling, watching the riders come out and either eat dirt or move up the rankings.
Not everyone wanted me gone. Not everyone here was out to get me. Not everyone was an asshole. Sure, some existed - like Austin - but back home, it had been nothingbutassholes. Cole, his buddies, and every guy I'd competed against had been willing to run me out no matter what.
Here, I had some allies. I even had some friends. Maybe it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but I was ok with that. I'd known when I decided to try for the PBR I'd be making enemies - but I hadn't expected to be making friends.
So when my set of bulls finally filed into the chutes, I was as ready as I could get. Not just physically, but mentally too. I was here, I was doing this, and I wasn't alone. No matter what it looked like, I really wasn't.
"Left-handed," I said as I passed my bull rope to the chute attendant.
The man saw the pink cowbell and looked up. "Cody, right?"
"Yes, sir," I agreed.
And he smiled. He didn't glare, didn't ask if I was sure I was supposed to be doing this. The man smiled at me like he'd been waiting for me. It felt fucking nice. It felt like I really did have this. But before I could step into the chute, Jake appeared out of nowhere - again - to step across and take the tail of my rope.
"Hey, heard you could use some help," he said.
"Yeah..." I lowered myself down into the chute, bracing my feet so I was above the bull's back. But when I turned to warm my rope, Jake's crotch was right there. "Did you want to move down a rail?" I asked, looking up at him through the grill in my helmet.
Confusion claimed his face for a second, and then he realized our positioning. A laugh burst out instead. "Nope, I think I'm good here. You know, playing to my good side."
"Oh?" And I dropped my eyes to the section of denim not covered by his chaps. The part right at his junk. "That's your good side?"
"Careful," he warned. "You start talking about it and it'll get excited. Might end up with a real close view of my inchworm."
I twisted, grabbing the rail because I laughed so hard. That was not atallwhat I'd expected him to say. Jake was laughing too, proving it was a joke. Thankfully, he also moved down a rail, letting me get a view of his chest behind my rope this time.
And it was a nice chest. As I ran my hand over the black fibers, hoping I had enough rosin on them, I may have looked. Jake wasn't bad. Ok, he was cute. Very cute. Plus, I was starting to realize he was funny, kind, and maybe even smart.
So as I yanked at the rope, thankful to see little tendrils of warm stickiness, I dared to look up. His eyes were waiting, and they were as grey as his hat. Nice eyes, in a nice face, belonging to a nice man.
"Don't distract me," I grumbled.
"I'm just holding your rope, Cody," he pointed out.
"You're being cool and it's confusing," I countered.
"I'm being a gentleman," he corrected. "No distracting intended."
And yet he was smiling. Not grinning, not smirking. The man just had a sweet little curl to his lips that made me think he liked it. The problem was I liked it too. Fuck. I needed to be right here, right now. My mind should be on just this bull, just this ride.
"Tighter," I ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Jake said, pulling a little harder.
I ran my hand over the tail again, glancing back to check the riders and where we were. I was going to be the third to go out in this set, and I didn't want to strap myself to this bull too soon. The sound of music let me know someone was in the arena. Leaning back, I watched a black bull bucking hard. Ok, so I was good for time.
I shifted to my handle. Just this bull. Just this ride. I had to stay on for a full eight. I needed to make sure I rode damned good, and Goliath should give one hell of a show. So I yanked at the strap that would be my lifeline. Hard, I pulled, making sure the new rosin was exactly how I wanted.
A new bull. A new rope. A new puller. I'd faced worse odds, and my daddy was out there. I had a show to put on, men to impress, and judges to piss off. I had sponsors counting on me. This was my fucking job, and I was going to do this.
"And you're good to go," the chute attendant said, letting me know the guy before me was out.
Nodding to show I heard, I began wrapping my rope. I'd seen a video of this bull. Just one, but it had been enough. So, deciding to be a little crazy, I secured my hand to the handle, then doubled back to tuck the tail between my fingers. Over and under, making it almost impossible for it to slip out.
"Cody..." Jake breathed. "That's a suicide wrap."
