Page 55 of Rough Ride

“Are yourealcowboys?” one of them asked Eli in a nauseatingly sweet voice.

“I’m as real as grade-A leather,” Eli said smoothly. “Johnny here is just playin’ pretend, though.”

“You’ll be pretending to have an injury after I outlast you,” Johnny called back.

That drew some laughs and jeers from the crowd, which was pressing closer to the action.

Johnny threw a leg over Willie and settled into the saddle like he was born there, casually resting a hand on the pommel. I had to admit: his demeanor turned me on more than I expected. Hewas an expert at this, and didn’t need to boast or flaunt. This was a man surrounded by boys.

“Rider up!” the attendant shouted over the crowd noise.

Most mechanical bulls had a difficult level that went up to ten, a number which was displayed on the neon sign above the ring. As the attendant twisted a dial on the control panel, that number rapidly ticked up. Five, six, seven, eight…

The crowd let out a flurry ofoohsandaahsas the number hit double digits… and stopped at eleven. That was the highest setting possible,significantlymore difficult than ten.

“I didn’t realize it went that high,” one customer said.

“This ought to be good,” another guy said. “Ten bucks he breaks his neck.”

“I don’t think so. He looks like he knows what he’s about.”

Johnny did look the part sitting astride Whiplash Willie. He pulled his cowboy hat a little lower over his face, gave me a smile, then nodded to the attendant.

A loud buzzer sounded as the bull came to life, eyes glowing with red LEDs. It immediately began bucking violently forward with the aid of unseen machinery, twisting and kicking backward in the blink of an eye.

Johnny moved along with the bull with effortless confidence, settling into the saddle like this was… well, like it was hisjob. His faded jeans hugged strong legs that shifted instinctively with each buck and spin of the robotic beast. He kept one hand on the pommel, while raising the other into the air—more for style than balance.

Willie jerked, twisted, and kicked, but Johnny intuitively rolled with the machine, his body fluid and controlled. But his face was twisted with concentration beneath his tan wide-brimmedStetson. The overhead lights caught the sharp cut of his jawline, clenched with effort, before the bull spun him away again.

The crowd whooped and hollered, but Johnny barely acknowledged them—until, with a final powerful buck, Willie finally made a dent in the blond cowboy’s balance. He leaned back, muscles in his arm flexing as he tried to rebalance himself, but now he was over-correcting. The bull spun and jerked forward, sending Johnny flying over the front.

He hit the mat and used the momentum to roll forward once, coming to a stop on his ass.

The timer froze the moment he left the saddle: fourteen seconds.

“That’s a new 2025 record!” the attendant announced over the loudspeaker.

Johnny climbed to his feet while everyone in the bar cheered. He tipped his cap to the crowd, but he looked annoyed that he hadn’t done better.

“Well done,” I said as he exited the ring.

“I was going for the all-time record,” he said, clenching his jaw in annoyance. “Seventeen seconds.”

“Seventeen and ahalf,” Eli clarified. “A record which is about to be mine. Watch and learn, Johnny boy.”

“He’s nothing if not confident,” Johnny muttered to me.

“I’ll say.” I glanced over my shoulder. Sawyer was still leaning against the wall, looking bored by the whole thing.

Johnny leaned closer to me. “I’m looking forward to our next date, by the way.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware there was going to be a second date.”

“There damn-well better be,” he growled with a smirk. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other night.”

His hand slid around my waist easily. I liked the way it felt being in his arms again, and wished we were somewhere alone. And naked.

“It’s been on my mind a few times,” I said.

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