Page 31 of Eight Seconds to Ride

My body stiffens, knowing this was coming. It’s not that I’m ashamed, but I’ve chosen to not talk about it that often because any time I do, a slew of judgement comes, like I’m some alien. But I know Daisy isn’t like that, so heaving a sigh, I look her in the eye and say, “I mean, I’ve never done any of this. None of it.”

“So, you’re a—”

“Virgin, yes.”

“Oh! Okay,” she chirps, nodding. “You’re just full of surprises this morning.”

We both laugh, despite me feeling suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“Are you religious, or like, waiting for the right person?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s nothing like that. It’s that I grew up in a pretty conservative town in Texas. There weren’t exactly a lot ofoutguys, and I’m terrible at reading people. Didn’t want to hit on the wrong person and end up bloody, you know? And then the older I got, the more into rodeo I became, that was my one goal. I guess I was just focused, and the opportunity never presented itself.”

“That makes sense.” Daisy turns her body so she’s facing me completely, sitting crisscross. “And then with Shooter?”

“I was drunk, and he was just…there. He was Shooter freaking Graham, the man who just won the world title at bareback bronc riding. He’s practically a sex symbol. I know you’re his sister, but you have to know that. And I don’t know, I guess it was also I was in a brand-new city for the night, where nobody knew who I was, and I was free to be whatever I wanted to be. So, the opportunity presented itself.”

She blows out a breath, threading her hands together in her lap. “Listen, I will never judge you, never tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.”

“Why am I sensing abuthere?”

Chuckling, she goes on. “But I know Shooter pretty damn well. He’s never been in a relationship. Like, ever. I’ve never known him to do strings. And you’re right…he’s a sex symbol in the rodeo world. Women want him. Men want him. And he knows it. He’s cocky, full of himself, and he loves the attention.

“Shooter has always loved the attention.” Daisy reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing a few times. “I guess what I’m trying to say in plain terms is, please be careful. I know you said you aren’t into him like that, but I know what it’s like to experience first times, and while it may not be the same foreverybody, it’s easy to get attached. To form feelings you swore you’d never have. And it’s easy to get your heart broken when you least expect it. And Shooter, he’s a heartbreaker. I love my brother, but it’s true.”

“You don’t say,” I tease with a laugh that comes out drier than I intend. “But seriously, thanks, Dais. I appreciate being able to confide in you. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get this off my chest.”

“I’m always here,buuuutif you could maybe keep the raunchy details to yourself, that’d be great.”

Sharing a laugh, I feel ten pounds lighter.

14

Shooter Graham

Goddamn, I’m going out of my mind today. We left the campsite about forty-five minutes ago, and the entire time I’ve been hyper focused on the fact that Sterling is sitting directly behind me in the truck. The hair on my arms and on the back of my neck is standing straight up, goosebumps keep brushing over my flesh, and the overwhelming urge to turn around to do nothing more thanlook at himis insane.

When he left to go on a hike with Daisy this morning, I contemplated telling Cope. It was right there, begging for me to spill the words, but I didn’t. For some reason, a huge part of me wants to keep this to myself. Keephimto myself.

Last night was… It was fucking hot. And not just because we were so close to getting caught. The way Sterling was so clearly nervous, but also very much into it—the war he had within himself that he wore vividly in his expression. The way his honey-colored eyes darkened as he watched me. As he watched his dick disappear between my lips. His bruising grip on myshoulders. Andfuck me, the way he tasted on my tongue when he couldn’t hold it together any longer.

I’m already thinking of ways I can do it again. Although, he hasn’t said more than two words to me all morning, so maybe he’s not interested in a round two—or, well, I guess round three, if you count the first time in Vegas.

My phone vibrates in my lap, eyes dropping to take in the lit-up screen.Dad.Jesus Christ, he’s relentless. I’ve ignored every call of his since I lost, knowing all he wants to do is go over how shitty I competed and what I could’ve done differently. And frankly, I’m just not in the fucking mood to hear it. But I’m going to have to take his call eventually. We’re set to head back to Copper Lake in a few weeks for a three-night rodeo event before we’re back on the road again, and that little trip home will be so much worse if I wait until then to let him tear into me.

He's like a pesky, sticky Band-Aid. I just need to rip it off already and deal with it. But despite my loss, I’m in a great fucking mood, and talking to him will only ruin that. So, at least for the next few days, I’m choosing to ignore him.

I do, however, shoot off a text to my sister, a smirk on my lips as I do.

Me: Give me Sterling’s phone number.

Her response is almost instant, and I canhearthe snark between her words.

Daisy: Whatever happened to “hello, how are you?”

Me: Daisy… now.

Daisy: How about a fucking ‘please’ first, asshole?

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