Page 5 of Cowboy Crush
My mother never wanted me on them, but my dad, he had it in his head that I was going to be better than him, go further, do more. He pushed me to want it. Still to this day, I don’t know if I want that life because I want it or if it was drilled into me at a young age. Either way, I was racing toward it as fast as I could. As a teenager, I did all the local shows and rodeos. I had sponsors. I was making damn good money and getting my name out there. I was being called one of the best, better than even my father. It was only a matter of time before I went pro. And then everything changed. Since then, my father and I haven’t been close. It’s like I let him down, and he can no longer stomach to look at me.
I hate that I’ve let him down. I hate that I’ve let myself down. If I could’ve just held on a little better, a little longer, none of this would’ve happened. We’d still be close, I’d still be doing what I loved, and the world would be right again. One little slip was all it took to turn the world upside down for my family, and I wish there was a way to go back and fix it every single day of my pathetic life.
I pull into the parking lot at the bar, and I shut off the truck before climbing out and walking inside. The place is always a little busy, but it’s nothing like how it is on a Saturday night when a band is playing, and the whole town is here. I walk in and have a seat at the far side of the bar. Most people are with someone, so they’re sitting at the tables and booths. Only the older men who come here every day with the sole purpose of getting drunk sit at the bar.
I sit far enough away from everyone that anyone who looks at me knows that I’m not here for a good time. I’m here to forget my problems for a moment, and that’s it. I don’t want conversation or anything else. I just want to be left alone.
“What can I get ya today, Jameson?” the bartender asks.
“Bud and a shot of Jack,” I tell her.
She nods and goes off to work, retrieving my order. She’s back within a minute, and I toss a twenty down on the bar. I throw the shot back and enjoy the burn of the whiskey. I wrap my hand around my beer and pull it closer, deciding to hold it in my hands while I enjoy the burn as I think back on the argument I had with my dad.
It’s one thing to know that I’ve disappointed the man, but what makes it worse is how he’s always sending job offers my way. Like today, I was sitting at home, minding my own business, when someone knocked on my door. I opened it only to find Will from William and Sons Dealership on my doorstep. My dad told him I was looking for a job so he figured he’d come offer me one. My father knows that I’ve been working at the ranch for the past year now, but did that stop him? No. And in what world am I personable enough to sell a fucking car?
He doesn’t care that I want to be in charge of my own life. He just keeps trying to push the next best thing down my throat. Likeyou fucked up the original plan so let’s try this instead. Why can’t he see that I don’t want his help? I’ll figure out my own life. I don’t need him giving me step-by-step instructions on how to take care of myself.
I keep my head down unless I’m looking at the TV, and I have a few cold ones. The alcohol helps to kill the anger inside me, and before I know it, I forget that I’m here to forget. I talk briefly with the owner of the bar, and he mentions he may have a few odd jobs for me to do around the bar. It doesn’t pay, but I’m always willing to work for a free night of drinking. The day drags on, and the sun begins to go down. I’m finishing up my beer when a blonde comes to a stop beside me. She climbs up onto the barstool and grabs a menu.
“Hi, hun. What can I get ya?”
“Let’s just make this easy. Give me three burgers and fries. I was supposed to cook dinner for my friends tonight, but I burnt it.” She shrugs. “And can I get a beer while I wait?”
“Sure thing, doll,” the bartender says.
The blonde next to me looks familiar, but I can’t place where I’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous, and she’s wearing a summer dress that shows off her long, tan legs. It’s low cut too, giving everyone just a peek at what she’s hiding under there. I force my eyes to stay on the TV. God knows I don’t need to pull anyone else down with me. I’m sinking in this life, and I’m doing my damnedest to cling to the lifeboat. I don’t need a person on my back, waiting for me to change my ways and climb into the boat.
I can see her from the corner of my eye, and she glances over at me. Her beer is put down, though, so she directs her attention to that, picking it up and taking a sip. She wraps her hands around the bottle and waits impatiently. I watch out of the corner of my eyes as she drinks from the bottle and then begins peeling the label. She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. Her shoulders fall, and she turns both ways, looking around her.
“I can’t believe I burned dinner,” she says. There’s nobody else around, so she has to be talking to me.
I glance at her with a brow lifted and then turn my attention to the screen behind the bar.
“I fell asleep,” she confesses. “I’m usually really good at cooking. I was just so tired. My friends and I, we rented a cabin up on the mountain for the summer. We spent all day yesterday in the car driving here. Then when we arrived, we started drinking, and we all passed out in the living room. So I’ve just been super tired today. I thought I could unwind and write in my diary, but I ended up falling asleep and burning the roast. I feel so stupid.”
“Yeah, that sucks,” I tell her, bringing my beer to my lips, hoping she gets the hint. I’m not in here for conversation or to find a pretty girl to take home. I just want to be left alone.
She nods. “I’m Hannah.”
I keep my eyes forward, and I refuse to look at her or respond.
After a moment of her waiting to hear my name, she says, “And you are?”
“Not interested,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen like I’ve slapped her. “Wow, and I thought people in the country were supposed to be friendly.”
“Are all blondes dumb?” I ask.
Her brows pull together. “Excuse me?”
I turn to face her now, tired of the bullshit. “Me assuming that all blondes are dumb would be like you assuming that because someone is from the country that they want to sit and hear all about your day. I’m just trying to relax and have a beer after a long, stressful day.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry for talking to you.”
I turn back to the TV and let out a long breath, knowing that I did get my point across this time. I hoped she moved away from me, though, and that hasn’t happened yet.
“Guess I’ll just sit here and talk to myself,” she mumbles as she brings her beer bottle to her lips.
