Page 26 of From the Ashes
Trying to keep it together, I give them both a nod andturn away. Everyone’s eyes are on me, and the last thing I need is for a camera to capture the look passing between Phoenix and I right now.
During Jackson’s ride, though, I risk more glances. The entire arena, including the cameramen are focused on the man and the animal in the ring, allowing me eight precious, uninterrupted seconds to drink Phoenix in.
His eyes are on Jackson in an assessing way, but they only stay there for a brief moment before finding mine again. His white t-shirt and cowboy hat take me back to that night in the barn, and I swallow hard. The planes of his chest are visible through the material, and the sleeves are tight on his biceps, teasing me, torturing me. I may have grown taller than Phoenix, but he’ll always have more mass than me.
Involuntarily, my tongue darts out to lick my lips which have gone dry, and I’m at risk for a full-blown erection when I watch those green eyes follow the movement.
But before we can continue this silent conversation, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to the ring.
Jackson’s ride is over and I have no idea how he did.
Until the announcer reports his score a minute later.
94.98.
I got him.
Barely, but I got him.
Tomorrow’s ride needs to be so perfect that I become only the third rider ever to obtain a score of 100. I need to talk to Phoenix. I need to know what he saw in my ride that could be improved.
But that will have to wait.
The man with the microphone in the center of the ring is already calling me out to declare me tonight’s winner. My shirt feels too tight and my erection feels painfully obvious as I make my way to meet him across the dirt floor.
“Well, Walker, you’ve squeezed out another win,” he says, draping an arm across my shoulders like we’re best buds. “How did you feel during your ride?”
I feed him the same bullshit I give every time. The answers my PR team has coached me through thanks to the wallets of my sponsors.
“I felt great. You never know quite what to expect, but that’s what makes this sport so fun. I had a comfortable fit in the shoot, a secure handhold, and was ready to dance when that gate opened.”
“Your toughest competition is here as well. What’d you think of Jackson White’s ride?”
Again, saw this one coming, but I have to modify my answer just a bit since I didn’t actuallyseeJackson’s ride.
“Jackson’s a great rider. His finesse is unmatched, and it’s always a good time seeing who will come out on top. I like to think we keep each other on our toes. We know no win is just going to be handed to us when the other is competing,” I answer with confidence.
I keep my eyes trained on the dirt, waiting for the next question, but he catches me totally off guard with it.
“We’re all excited to see you out here in North Carolina for the first time. You probably already know this, but this is Phoenix Harding’s hometown.” My eyes snap to Phoenix’s in the stands, and I watch his face drain of color. Neither of us know where this is going. “He was a big inspiration of yours back in the day, if I remember correctly.”
Okay, so this fucker did his homework.
He thrusts the microphone at me, and my ears are ringing as I collect my thoughts.
“Uh, yeah,” I stutter. “He sure was. Still is actually,” I admit with a hard swallow, hoping like hell the pain in my voice is evident only to my ears. “We haven’t seen a rider likehim since he was active,” I finish, trying to play up his riding skills and not the personal shit between us.
Mercifully, the announcer cuts it off after that.
He slaps me on the back with a chuckle. “Well, we’re glad you’re here and we look forward to watching you ride again tomorrow.” He keeps the microphone to himself, telling me he doesn’t expect me to respond before announcing loudly, “Your winner for tonight, with a score of 95.72, Walker DeVille!”
The crowd jumps to their feet with applause and I have to admit, the rodeo fans in NC almost make the stop worth it.
Out of habit, I do my ritual after winning a ride. It’s the same one I do before I leave a place for the last time, signifying the end. Tossing my hat in the air so it flips twice, I catch it and place it on my head, using two fingers to tip it down over my eyes before kissing the pads of those same two fingers and placing them over my heart.
As soon as I finish the familiar routine, I go completely still.
Fuck.
