Page 12 of Buck This
“Yeah well, he turns everything he touches to shit, so you know…not surprising.”
“Do you know him well?”
“Just from the circuit. He’s been wanting to draw my name for the last few events. He’s a cocky little fucker.”
She couldn’t help her smile. “I agree. Everybody thinks he’s a demigod or something, but I think he’s kind of a douche. He’s already bragged to Reece about how he rode you seven point five seconds.”
“Four point five if my animal wouldn’t have stalled.”
“That’s what I thought too. So, what happened to your horn?”
“Do you just ask whatever is on your mind?” he asked.
“Most of the time, yep.”
“Jesus, Lady.”
“I heard a rumor you might’ve damaged it with frostbite.”
He cast her a narrow-eyed glance. “Heard the rumor from who?”
She shrugged.
“Have you been asking about me?”
She shrugged again and took another drink of beer.
“I saw who you were sitting with.”
“Does that make me more interesting?” she asked.
He snorted. “They probably felt sorry for you and gave you a seat.”
“Actually, that’s depressingly accurate.”
He chuckled.
She told him, “I also got the ticket guy a beer to butter him up.”
He chuckled again and leaned back on locked arms, leaned his head back far enough so that she could see his Adam’s apple pressing against his muscular neck. “You’re a shit-show, City Slicker.”
“Your momma,” she jabbed.
His shoulders shook with another laugh.
“Look, now that I have connections I think I can get you a good seat for the barrel runner horsey thingies.”
“Barrel racing?”
“Yep.”
“I’m pretty sure I would not be welcome in that box.”
“Mmm, you were the talk of that box. I’m pretty sure they would be okay with me making you my plus-one.”
“What?” he asked.
“You have some guy named Quickdraw Slow Burn’s attention.”
