Page 15 of Bull Riders Don't Swoon

Jamieson immediately stops running and bends to brace his hands on his thighs.

“Thanks, Griff. Great ride, huh?”

Jamison sags, and I grip his arm tighter as I lead him over to the exit.

“Yeah. Should be a good score. You okay?”

He nods. “I shouldn’t have skipped my pre-ride snack. Just a little woozy.”

“Jamie,” I practically growl his name. “The one time youneedto eat, and you don’t. You can’t be crashing while on a bull!”

Jamieson eats constantly, but he needs to eat before he rides. His metabolism is one I’ll never understand because the adrenaline of an eight-second ride is enough to make him lightheaded. He learned that early, and we always make sure he eats something light before he warms up.

Soft brown eyes stare at me through the cage of his helmet.

“I know, Griff. But you’re in the ring, and I know you’ll keep me safe when I fuck up. I’ll go have a snack now.”

Then the fucker slips through the gates and into the back. His score of 88 booms from the speakers in the announcer’s voice, and he’s in the lead. After the last rider has a great ride and bumps Jamieson into the second spot, he’s the first to congratulate the winner after the event.

I listen from the bench where I unwrap all the tape from my ankles.

“You’re always so smooth out there, Jamieson. I don’t know what it is about you, but you’ve just got it.” The other bull rider, Cody, playfully punches Jamieson in the shoulder. “What are you doing after? Do you want to get a beer?”

My hands shake as I keep my head down and focus on my task. Here it comes.

“We’re always at the bar after. I’ll see you there.” Jamieson can’t help being friendly. It’s just the way he is, but Cody isn’t looking for a group drink.

Cody hesitates. “Oh, yeah, of course. Maybe I’ll buy you a drink later.”

“It should be me buying. You won, after all.”

Clearing my throat, I draw their attention as I toss my used tape into the garbage. “He’s right, Cody. Winners don’t buy their own drinks.”

He flashes me a tight smile. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

It’s so small I almost miss it. Cody thinks he snuck in the perusal, but I notice. Jamieson never does, though. Male or female, if you’re not throwing yourself at him, he doesn’t pick up on flirting.

Which is a whole other kind of heartache for me when I need to spell it out and watch him hook up with people who aren’t me.

“Let’s hit the showers before the drinks.”

We fall into a comfortable walk, his six-foot-two and my five-foot-eleven amble together easily, and he throws an arm over my shoulder. We find the truck in the back parking lot and, after tossing our gear in, Jamieson turns to me.

“Sorry for scaring you in the ring. I was really hyped up for tonight, and I knew I should’ve eaten something, but I…I just didn’t. I’m sorry, and I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“It’s fine, Jamie. You’re just being you.”

He huffs. An annoyed sound I don’t hear often from him. “No, it’s not fine, Griff. You have a hard job, and I was selfish for not thinking about how that would affect you. I worry too, you know.”

“What? Why would you worry?” He does that thing again where he bites both of his lips, and my heart rate kicks up. “Jamie? What are you worrying about?”

With a sigh, he levels me with a gaze that almost kills me.

“Sometimes I worry you’ll get sick of my bullshit and leave. I know I’m a lot, but…I need you and…yeah, I just don’t want to stress you out with my stupidity.”

God dammit. Why would he say something like that now, after all these years?

Clearing my throat, I pop my hip into his. “I’m not going anywhere, Jamie.”

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