Page 59 of Buck This
It’s enough.
He looked up to find Torrey standing at the edge of the box, her hand on her chest and her heart in her pretty eyes.
Everything else blurred but her.
She was crying, but it wasn’t sadness he found on her beautiful face. It was…pride.
It’s enough.
He trotted toward her and slowed before he got to the fence, then waited as she slowly reached over and placed her hand on his head, right between his horns.
It’s enough.
He looked around to find Teague was gone, and he had this overwhelming sadness wash through him because he knew it was the last time he would see him. He’d come here to be a part of this moment with Buck This Storme. How many times had they talked about this dream together?
It was done now. It was enough.
Buck This Storme trotted around the edge of the arena in a victory lap and gave a few bucks to make the crowd go wild.
He hadn’t fucked up this time.
He hadn’t fucked up.
He was still here. He was still breathing. He was still trying.
Torrey saw something in him.
Quickdraw Slow Burn and his herd saw potential in him.
He wasn’t a throw-away.
He was Buck This Storme, and like his brother had said, this was just the beginning, not the end.
Epilogue
This was Torrey’s routine now—at seven o’clock sharp, and she would go outside of her little apartment complex, hang out with the feral cats while they ate the food she’d brought them, and wait on a video call from Buck.
He was busy with training, but every day at the same time, they got to talk for a little while.
It had become her favorite part of her day.
God, she missed him.
A little tuxedo kitty she’d named GW as a tribute to Gary Wade came up and let her pet him for the seventh time ever, and whooo, her heart. She couldn’t wait to tell Buck about it.
That was if he didn’t already have a trillion girlfriends. The attention he had gotten for the last month since he’d gone number one bucking bull shifter in the world was insane and overwhelming.
They were best as friends. They lived far apart, and he traveled, and…yeah. They were good as friends.
She sighed and rested her cheek on her forearms. She really missed him.
“You look like you’re about to cry there, City Slicker,” a familiar voice rumbled.
The cats were startled and scattered, and Torrey jerked her attention up to find Buck standing there, holding a heavy-looking duffel bag.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, standing clumsily. Torrey bolted for him and flung herself into his arms, reveling in the deep chuckle that vibrated through his chest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
