AJ brought his fingers to his temples and rubbed. “Thanks.”
The kid nodded and darted off, the cacophony of young women in the background creating a strange soundtrack for his run.
AJ pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled the article up.
The headline read “Rodeo’s Triple Crown Princess: rodeo’s first female rough stock champion is lean, mean, and coming for her man.”
The lead image was a close-up of Lil’s face, her head angled toward the bottom right of the frame, a mischievous grin aimed at something outside of the shot.
A piece of wheat stuck out from between her sharp teeth, the hungry glint in her eyes reminding him of the way she’d looked at him outside of Winnie the night before.
He ran a hand down his face, letting out a loud breath.
Things were getting complicated.
This was why it was always a better idea to save the wildness inside of him for the bulls and broncs. Anywhere else, whether it was the top of a hill in Houston or a dingy hole-in-the-wall in Ardmore, and there were consequences.
Brow furrowed, he returned to the article, forcing himself to start with the words, to read through the entire thing, before he let himself look at the rest of the pictures.
But as he finished, reading the final line with a smug grin, Lil chose the moment to throw open the door of the second-place RV and dash down her stairs, dressed in full rodeo attire as if they were due to go on within the next hour, instead of eight.
Her hair was braided and she wore no makeup or jewelry, which meant she was probably heading out to practice or ride or something else having to do with the actual work of rodeo, as opposed to the promotions work of the Closed Circuit reality rodeo.
Taking her in, he at least had the answer to his question about her practice habits. Of course she practiced, there was no way a body could show up like she did, ride like she did, and not practice—that he’d even considered the alternative was crazy. She just practiced in the wee hours, when no one was around, the little sneak.
But there were plenty of people around now. And buried in the why was a fantastic reason to grin.
Lil stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the crowd, which had gotten only louder since her door opened.
“You’re a regular idol, Lil.” AJ’s smugness was heavy enough to crack through the pavement.
She shot him a wary glance, her eyebrows drawn low and together as she opened her mouth.
Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the greenie from before running over to greet her. “Can I help you with anything, Lil?” he asked, confident, if overly friendly.
“No, no thanks,” she sputtered.
AJ almost laughed. It looked like Lil was dealing with her own consequences this morning, and while it might sting a little that, fresh pressed and ready to go as she was, hers didn’t seem to have anything to do with him, the look on her face suggested that they were her particular brand of miserable.
“Anything at all?” the kid asked again, face hopeful.
Lil repeated, “Uh. No thanks. I think I’ll just go back inside.”
“You’re not even going to ask what all this is about?” AJ asked lazily, gesturing to the mob of estrogen, which took his motion as a signal to get louder.
She shook her head, already taking steps backward.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he said, grin growing to nothing short of shit eating. “I think you really might be interested in the source of all of this hullabaloo.”
Cringing, Lil kept backing up. “I’m sure I can catch up in my RV.”
Shaking his head slowly, AJ advanced on her, catching her delicate wrist in his hand.
Their audience erupted at the contact—as he’d known they would.
That his body would as well, his senses heightening, his attention zeroing in on the place where their skin touched, the incredibly tiny bones that went toe-to-toe with massive beasts, was a surprise. So was Lil’s quiet inhalation.
At least she wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. If the article was to be believed, which he didn’t for a minute, she was much more than unaffected.