Page 25 of From the Ashes
I take a deep breath, letting the dust enter my lungs, and the smell of dirt, sweat, testosterone, and fear fill my nose.
“Phoe, you coming?”
I look up at the sound of my name and see Knox waiting for me as the rest of our party climbs the stairs to our seats.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped in the middle of the landing, blocking traffic. When I get to our aisle, a guy in the row in front of us twists in his chair to get a better look at me. I give a polite head nod, but I know as soon as he sees my buckle, he knows who I am.
“Oh man, you’re Phoenix Harding.”
It does wonders for my soul to be recognized in this arena tonight. I smile and give another nod. “Yessir, I am.”
“Honey.” He taps the shoulder of the woman seated next to him who is still facing the ring. “Hon, look here.”
She turns and her eyes go wide. “Why, Phoenix Harding! You’re even more handsome in person.”
“Thank you,” I say politely.
I feel all my friends watching this interaction. They didn’t know me when I was somebody, and they’ve never seen me in this environment. God, I’m starting to wonder if I’ve ever actually let my friends know the real me at all…but that’s a topic for a different time and place.
The man holds up his phone. “Would you mind if we got a picture?”
I cock a half smile. “It’d be my pleasure.”
“Oh, do you want me to take it?” Cassie asks from down the row. She made sure she was sandwiched between Shannon and Dylan, leaving me with Hudson on one side and Knox on the other.
By the time the events start, I’m having so much fun being back in my element that I’ve almost forgotten Walker’s riding tonight. At some point, Cassie made Knox switch seats with her so she could keep asking me questions. I love how into it she is, and I do my best to explain everything she wants to know.
But when the announcer says Walker is up next, my heartstops beating as the crowd noise amplifies. Everyone’s here to see him and Jackson. My balls retreat inward as I watch Walker climb the gate to get seated on the back of a tan bronc with a black mane.
That’s my horse, Aberdeen. Which means Walker drew forty-two.
I sit up straight, nearly clocking Cassie in the jaw as I do. “Shit, sorry, Cass,” I murmur, totally distracted. I catch a glimpse of Walker swinging his leg over the gate into the shoot and onto my bronc, praying the whole time that the horse gives him a perfect ride.
I watch as Walker tucks his hand under the rope, adjusting, then readjusting until it feels just right. My fingers twitch with muscle memory as if I were preparing my own rope.
I’m vaguely aware of someone talking to me, but as soon as that gate is opened, every molecule of my being is glued to Walker and the horse.
Aberdeen comes out with short, jerky bucks. If Walker is going to get a high score, he needs the horse to really kick out. Walker’s driving his spurs into his sides, toes out like they’re supposed to be—looks like he learned his lesson from Wyoming—when Aberdeen kicks once and I see him gearing up for that second kick I warned Walker about. Heeding my advice, Walker stays locked in position, not rolling his hips forward and relaxing as if Aberdeen’s going to land.
I swear this eight seconds is longer than any eight seconds I ever rode.
Walker leans back when Aberdeen juts forward, in beautiful sync with the animal, his left hand high in the air as he continues to anticipate the beast’s moves. When the horn finally blows, Cassie leans over and yells, “You can breathe now,” over the roar of the crowd.
I look at her, realizing far too late that I’ve got my right hand in a vice grip around her forearm.
Chapter 13
Walker
He didn’t tell me he’d be coming tonight, he just told me good luck. But even without scanning the crowd for him, I know he’s here. Ifeelit. I refused to look for him for fear that my eyes would wander to him during my ride.
When I dismount the bronc in the ring, I finally draw a deep breath. My ride was as close to perfect as I could get and the judges score of 95.72 reflects that. The horse is carted out and there’s only one more rider to go.
Jackson White.
I climb back to safety, feeling good, and hear a feminine voice fairly close by yell, “Way to go, Walker!”
Immediately, I look around at the sound of my name and spot the face of the gorgeous woman I saw at the jukebox. My eyes stay on her for only a second before traveling to the man at her side. Although it’s becoming slightly less surprising to see him, my body’s reaction to his presence hasn’t lessened at all, and I feel my dick begin to thicken in its confines.
