Page 10 of Eight Seconds to Ride

Why is it never enough?“I would’ve won the same prize had I won by more.”

“You know, I don’t think I told you this.” He turns in his chair to fully face me, his eyes lit up with what looks to be excitement. “Remember that rodeo I judged last fall?”

I nod.

“There was a kid there doing bareback bronc, and whew…” He shakes his head, breathing out a chuckle. “Talk about a natural. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone so green do so well.”

How fucking cool for him,I want to say, but I don’t. Not that I have to. Dad’s in his head, paying me no mind.

“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is because he went pro this year, and I just found out he moved here.”

No.

“Maybe you’ve met him already,” he mutters. “Sterling Addams is his name.”

Fuck. No.

“Yeah, Dad,” I blow out. “I’ve met him.”

He chuckles, pressing play on the footage again. “Better keep your eye on him, son. He knows what he’s doing. Raw talent.

My jaw clenches as I fight against the urge to rebuttal. To tell him what an asshole he sounds like. Instead of being proud of his son for all his success, he sits around telling me all the ways I can be better. Pointing out how good my competition is, like that’s not going to get in my head and fuck me up.

I’m somehow able to get through the rest of this with him before excusing myself to head to the bonfire. Luckily, Daisy is going too, so nobody puts up a fight when I say I have to go. We ride separately despite going in the same direction. I need to be alone. I need to breathe. I need to get really fucking drunk and forget this whole evening.

This party issomething I’ve come to look forward to every year. Not just because it indicates the start of rodeo season—which is always a season we should be celebrating—but also because it’s always a really fucking good time. Our lives are so busy, whether we’re on the road or at home training. And while a few of us always make an effort to meet for lunch every Wednesday at Lou’s, it doesn’t always happen. So, tonight is the night for all of us.

It isn’t quite dark yet, but the sun is well on its way to setting. Drinks are flowing, and Conrad started a bonfire a little while ago. Music is playing, echoing off the trees around the yard. The vibes are immaculate, and I’m not just saying that because I’m halfway to tipsy already.

Sterling is around here somewhere, but he’s managed to make himself as scarce as possible. At least around me. I haven’t quite decided how I feel about him. Especially after the shit my dad said earlier. He’s got a pretty mouth and a skilled tongue, and he looks incredible on his knees for me. He’s also so easy to make squirm. Definitely entertaining, if nothing else. But I also don’t make it a point to befriend my competition either. Not that I think he’d really be much of a competition.

Bringing the solo cup up to my lips, I tip my head back and down the rest of the beer before meandering over to the keg and getting a refill. Headlights nearly blind me as they come to a stop right in front of the barn. I recognize the truck as Boone’s. He jumps out, walking over to me, a grin on his face.

“What’s up, fucker?” I mutter, handing him a beer. “Took you long enough to get here. Thought you were gonna skip out on us.”

“Nah, I told you guys I’d be here. Suzy was just extra sassy today. I wanted to make sure she was asleep before I left.” He downs a sip as someone comes up beside him.

“Hey, Grady,” I greet him. “How’s college treating ya?”

“Not bad. Happy to be home, though.”

Grady is a bit younger than the rest of us. He’s nineteen, I believe, compared to my twenty-four and Boone’s twenty-six. Colt is the closest in age to Grady at twenty-two. Colt’s one of the newest guys on the circuit, and this is about to be his second rodeo season in the pros.

My eyes catch on movement behind Boone, and I notice Sterling heading toward the barn. Looking back at both guys, I huff out a laugh. “Well, go get you a drink, Grady, but take it easy and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I don’t wait for a response before stepping around them and heading in the direction of Sterling, but I swear I catch Boone saying under his breath,“Well, that leaves a lot wide open.”

When I round the corner, I spot him. He’s standing along the side of the barn, phone in his hand as he looks down at it, fingers moving like he’s sending a text.

“Well, look who we have here,” I say, startling him.

His head snaps in my direction, that same nervous expression washing over his features. “Shooter,” he breathes as I step closer. “H-hey.”

“You’re missing the party.”

He grins. Even with the daylight fading, I can still make out the tinge of pink on his cheeks and the dimples, making me want to sink my teeth into them. “Yeah, I was just texting my parents back.”

“Aw, what a good boy you are to keep in contact with your folks.” Taking a step closer, my eyes dip down, watching his Adam’s apple roll in his throat as he swallows. “Bet they’re proud of you, huh?”

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