Page 25 of Just Say When

With a gentle squeeze, I released her throat. “Let’s go.”

I took her hand and pulled her into the safety inside.

10

Essie

Too much, and not enough.

What the hell did that even mean?

I didn’t know. I was probably never going to know, either, because I would rather pull out every one of my toenails than ask.

Last night was in the past. And today? Well, today I was going to pretend last night never happened.

My god, I loved the rodeo. The sound of country music blasting over stereos. The smell of hay and animals, sweat and corndogs. The shine of sequins, leather, and silver belt buckles. I loved it all. I twirled slowly, my arms outstretched, like I could wrap it all up in a big ole hug.This used to be my playground…

“What’s that you’re humming?” James asked. “It’s the song fromA League of Our Own, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the Madonna song.” I grinned,feeling at one with the universe. Even though the universe included Brax, who was right behind James with Adam and Ben. “It’s a good movie, James.”

She laughed. “I don’t disagree.”

Nothing could ruin my good mood. Not Brax. Not the hazy memory of things better left unsaid. Not his answer, twisting inside of me. Did I cringe every time I heard the echo of my voice asking that goddamn question? Yes. Did I want to demand he explain his words? Also yes. Was I going to do that? Fuck no. I was going to claim alcohol-induced amnesia. Because I had a little thing called self-respect, last night’s nonsense to the contrary.

Yesterday I had been too focused on Pirate to truly enjoy myself. It had been Pirate’s first competition. We had chosen a Colorado rodeo only a two-hour drive from Lodestar Ranch. It was more of a test of his attitude than his skill. We wanted to see how Pirate behaved under pressure. Would he hate to travel? Would sleeping in a strange stall mess with his stomach? Would the loud noises make him nervous?

Pirate passed with flying colors. I was giddy with excitement. And today, I could relax and enjoy the rodeo. Zack was competing in bronc riding. Should be a good time.

Our group made our way to the stands. We moved in a line, with me, James, and Ben in the middle bracketed by Adam and Brax.

Brax walked a half-step behind me, one hand hovering near my lower back without actually making contact, his other arm outstretched by his side. Protecting me from random strangers bumping into my space. The gesture was so familiar. We had walked like this a thousand times when we were teenagers. I doubted he even realized what he was doing.

We settled into our seats and I was once again between Brax and James. I angled my body slightly away from him and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. The sweet scent of kettle corn mingled with horses and hay. I breathed deeply.

“Dad, ice cream?” Ben, who was sitting between James and Adam, tugged at his dad’s sleeve and pointed to the ice cream stand.

“Sure. Anyone else want a cone?” Adam asked, standing.

James and I both requested a cone. Chocolate for her, vanilla for me. Brax shook his head. I took that as a character flaw.

“Do you ever miss it? Barrel racing, I mean,” James asked.

I considered. “Well, sure, I miss it. I miss it the way I miss fifth grade recess or—” A sudden awareness made me glance up to find Brax’s gaze on me.You. The way I miss you.

So much that I ached with it, sometimes. The memories between us felt palpable.

But I sure as fuck wasn’t going to say that out loud. I had done enough of that last night.

“Like the way I miss an old friend,” I finished, wrenching my attention back to James. “Barrel racing is like that. It was such an amazing time in my life, and I’ll always cherish the memories. No hard feelings about any of it, but I’m ready for something new.”

“I get that,” James said, nodding. She smiled up at Adam as he handed her the chocolate cone. “I loved racing in high school. But I love what I do now, too.”

I was aware that Brax was eavesdropping. He wasn’t even being subtle about it. After accepting my vanilla cone from Adam with a quick thank you, I turned to him with bugged out eyes and brows up to my hairline. “Can I help you?”

“No need to snap at me when I’m just sitting here, minding my own business.” He grinned. “What’s the matter, you need an aspirin for that hangover?”

As it happened, I didn’t have a hangover because I hadn’t actually been drunk last night. Alcohol and I had an interesting relationship. Nothing less than five drinks could give me a hangover. Four drinks in, and I was asleep, so hangovers almost never happened. Three drinks made me horny. Two drinks was the danger zone. That was when the alcohol loosened my tongue.

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