Page 9 of Riding Jamie

After a full workout this morning, I've been tossed off bulls all day so my back hurts like a bitch. It probably doesn't help that I can hardly sleep more than a few hours most nights, but that's not something I can really fix. I'm constantly on edge, between anger and defeat and defiant hope.

The only thing that's really keeping me going is my drive to figure out a way to get back to Oakley.

I can't rely on my dad for help, so my only real option is to win next week's entry competition. The prize money isn't great, but it should be enough to get me to New York, and I can figure everything else out from there. If I can justseeher, everything will be alright again.

But for now, I just feel like I'm losing my mind.

All I can do is think about Bo’s advice because as much as it might pain me to admit, the guy’s right. I’m going to have to suck it up and listen to him.

If I want Oakley back, I need to man up and go get her. I was already a coward once, keeping my decision about the circuit—and my motivations for it—to myself, and look where that got me. All I’ve ever wanted is to take care of Oakley. I want her to see me as someone she can rely on, someone who could be worthy of her.

Right now, I don’t even deserve for her tothinkabout forgiving me.

I need to earn the right to stand in front of her and show her that I can be better, that I can be what she deserves. That starts with the circuit. I’ll win enough money to get to New York, andI’ll tell her everything. I’ll explain every last thought in my head and tell her how much she means to me. I’ll beg her if I have to.

Nothing matters but getting her back.

And Bo is right. She’ll understand. She always understands.

My dad leans against the fence and rubbing his hand over his jaw in aggravation when I march my way back out of the barn. He shoves off the fence and stomps over to me so he can shove his finger in my chest.

“Jamie Walker, if you don't get your ass back in that ring rightfuckingnow?—”

I yank the glove out of his grip and knock his hand away from my chest, staring at him with cold, distant eyes. He stops himself before he finishes his sentence, and I stalk past him without saying a word.

My head may not be any clearer than it was when I stormed off, but I'm more determined than ever. I have a show to win, and while our reasons may be different, my dad and I want the same thing. I need to be in top shape to take home that buckle.

The stakes are too high for me to lose.

Chapter Five

OAKLEY

“You looklike you could use some coffee,” Shane’s voice sounds from behind me.

I jolt in my seat and turn with an embarrassed grin. Coffee sounds heavenly right now. I take it from his hand, sighing happily.

“You’re a godsend,” I chuckle, lifting the cup to my nose so I can inhale the fragrant steam.

“Just wait until I tell you I brought breakfast burritos, too,” he says, lifting a bag from the local shop I hadn’t noticed before.

I groan appreciatively as he passes me a burrito before settling into his own desk beside mine. I stayed up late last night working on homework that I got way too wrapped up in. I still got to the office before he did, but I can’t blame him for being a few minutes late when he comes bearing such wonderful gifts.

I didn’t exactly mean to finish the whole project last night, but everything still feels so new and exciting. I’ve been absolutely loving school, even my accounting classes. Obviously, the business management and financial planning courses are more my speed, but almost every class that I’m taking capturesmy attention and makes me even more excited for my future in the field.

My internship has been even more interesting than school. My uncle treats me like he would any other intern, pushing me and expecting me to pull my own weight, and it’s so thrilling to have someone believe in me like that.

Shane and I make a good team, too.

We’ve done a few projects for my uncle in the last month, mostly small scale operations planning, things that won’t be too big of a deal if we mess something up. He’s giving us a bit more leash with this new assignment, and I think both Shane and I are chomping at the bit to seal the deal with this contractor and really prove ourselves to him.

I’ve been glad, too, that Shane hasn’t been too pushy. I’m more interested in being colleagues first and potentially friends second, and he seems to want to prioritize our friendship, but he hasn’t really made any moves that have been too hard to fend off. He’s truly just been a good friend, and I’m starting to get used to it.

“Any response on that email we sent last night?” he asks as he boots up his computer and logs in for the day.

“Nothing yet,” I say, shaking my head. “They’re a few hours behind us, so it might be a bit until we hear from them.”

There’s only so much we can do until we hear back from our contact, but with any luck, we’ll hear from them by lunchtime. Until then, we decided to split up the prep work, me writing the contract while Shane gets the PR package ready, working under the assumption that they’ll be happy to accept all of our terms with no revisions.

---