Page 23 of The Break Out

I catch sight of the person who controls Bill and sneak my way over to him.

“Hey,” I greet with a smile. “That’s my friend about to go and we may have made a bit of a bet so I wouldreallyappreciate it if you could make sure he doesn’t stay on for eight seconds.”

The control guy chuckles, it’s obvious this is a somewhat common request. “I got you covered; don’t worry I’ll send his ass flying.”

I widened my smile, “You’re the best.”

Making my way back closer to the area Colton is currently preparing to mount the bull, I can’t help but appreciate him from afar. It really is unfair that the universe decides to give a man that face and body, but his shitty personality.

Once he’s situated, his eyes search for me and as soon as our gazes lock onto each other, his cocky smirk makes its appearance. My face drops the slight smile I had as I glare at him. He chuckles right before the movement starts.

It doesn’t take long before the operator is true to his word and Colton is being thrown around, but his stupidly strong bicep flexes as he holds on with all his strength. With one hand. I start to get anxious as the seconds go by. It feels like the three that have passed have already been an eternity. Then, the movementreally kicks up and I notice the slightest slip from him, and I know he’s about to lose it.

It's been five seconds, though and he doesn’t have much more to go. Suddenly, right as the clock turns to seven, Bill is whipped in the other direction so hard I think it’s physically impossible for anyone to stay on and Colton flies onto the soft ground.

I laugh with my victory as he stands up, snatching his hat that flew off and securing it back onto his head. He looks pissed as he stalks toward me, but I’m continuing to laugh.

“No going home with me tonight,hah,”I gloat.

His stupid smirk is back. “Your turn, though Princess, then I’ll buy you your drink.”

I want to go back on my part of the deal, but then I remember if I stay on the entire time then Colton has to leave me alone forever. And I made friends with the operator. Even though I don’t even know his name, I’m sure he’ll go easy on me.

“Good luck,” Colton says, his voice low, almost like a seduction. I shake it off as I get to Bill the bull.

“Alright, buddy, let’s win this,” I whisper to the fake animal before climbing on. I’m thankful for my height, though, because I’m pretty sure anyone shorter than me would need help and I refuse to ask for any.

He did, in fact, not go easy on me.

After what felt like a lifetime, I’m thrown off, flopping ontothe inflated floor so hard I bounce a couple times. When I looked up at the clock, I was on for a whole two seconds.

When I approach Colton again, he’s wearing the smug smile of victory while I glare at him.

“I’ll take your number now,” he says, expectantly.

I shake my head, “Drink first.” I walk past him, beelining it to the bar, Colton following close behind.

“What’re ya having, Princess? Let me guess.” Colton looks me up and down while I just roll my eyes. “A sex on the beach?”

“You’re a pig,” I scoff.

“What? You just seem like a fruity drink type of girl.”

“You don’t know a single thing about me.”

Before he can say anything else, I turn just as there’s a commotion on the other end of the bar in the direction I’m facing. A pretty bartender in shorts, a tight tank top, and her long brown hair pulled in a ponytail is sitting on the bar while a guy stands in front of her just a few inches from her knees. They both have a cup of liquid in their hand, and I watch as the guy drinks his like a shot and instantly the bartender tosses the liquid from her cup onto his face and then slaps his cheek.

The group around them cheer while the guy celebrates what just happened and I’m still staring, completely confused on what I just witnessed.

There’s heat at my back right before a deep voice is in my ear.

“That’s a hurricane shot, and it’s what I’m going to order next,” Colton says.

I shrug him away, not liking the heat his body is permeating and how it’s making me feel between my legs. “Have fun with that,” I grumble before starting to walk away.

I’m stopped by a hand wrapped around my bicep. That damn heat shooting through my body starting from where his hand is on me. Turning around, I narrow my eyes at the stupid hockey player, annoyed that my own body seems to be betraying me.

“Youare going to be the one to give it to me,” he says, his eyes shining with mischief.

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