Page 61 of The Wildest Ride

AJ shuddered. They were going to eat Lil up, but only after serving her on a silver pedestal.

Steeling himself, he wove through them to find a space near the chute.

Lil shot out, well marked, her form exceptional, as usual.

She and her bronco hit their sweet spot instantly—bucking and spurring in time like choreographed dancers.

She rode in a way that turned frenzied seconds into lazy, smooth stretches of time, more akin to hours passing on the porch than urgent struggles for survival.

The buzzer rang, the pickup men rode out, and Lil hopped free, having made the saddle bronc ride look like an evening at the ballet.

Her ride earned 98 points, a new PBRA record, and the stadium went nuts, and amidst the deafening noise, one thing was absolutely clear: she might have “loved” him as a teen, but she loved beating him as a woman even more.

17

Lil woke in the second-place RV still buzzing from her ride the night before. The entire world might think she was nothing more than a lovesick superfan chasing after AJ Garza, but she was still riding the best she ever had in her life.

Thinking about him, she wondered what he was doing before chastising herself for the direction of the thought, which proved she was exactly the lovesick superfan the world thought she was.

At seven in the morning he was probably sleeping—which was entirely beside the point since it shouldn’t matter to her what AJ was doing at all, especially now that her feature piece had so grossly misrepresented her feelings toward him.

Though how she would describe her feelings, or their relationship, she didn’t have an answer to. They’d kissed and more, going further and faster than she had with anyone else before, and they treated each other more like teammates than competitors, but they were by no means something more. And how did she reconcile that with the part of her that had never been casual physically?

Her actual words in the interview had been, “I love seeing him in the arena. The chance to watch him in action, the opportunity to be up close and personal to an idol, is a dream come true.” She’d been expressing the sentiments of a longtime admirer rather than a desperate ring hunter. And while he might be handsome, and as amazing in the arena as she’d unfortunately gushed, and capable of magic when his hands and lips got involved, he certainly wasn’t what she was looking for when it came to a relationship.

So why all the easy touching? Why kiss him like kissing didn’t mean something?a counter voice protested.

None of their kisses had been meaningless, and it would take both a liar and a fool to convince anyone of that. She had watched AJ rise to the top of the sport that was her whole life, doing it his way, as her granddad had taught her to do. It was normal that the fact that he was handsome and charming and intelligent would nudge that longtime admiration in a stronger direction. What wasn’t normal was the way it was impacting her. She’d never been one to budge an inch once she’d made her mind up, not even in the face of all the nudging—and cajoling and begging—in the world.

And AJ was the primary thing standing between her and protecting her home. He was the thing standing between her and victory for cowgirls and Black natives the world over.

AJ wasn’t her friend, and was most certainly not her lover, and she needed to get that straight. He was her competition, even if that line had blurred once or twice.

Disgusted with herself, she decided to give up and get out of bed. They had the day off, but it wasn’t like she’d be getting any more sleep and she refused to lie in bed and think about AJ.

Pulling on a pair of black sweats, she was working on getting a black tank top on when she heard a knock at the door.

AJ stood on the other side.

He wore his characteristic white baseball hat, but was missing his usual smile. That he stood on the bottom step put her face-to-face with him.

His forehead was creased, and her first urge was to reach out and soothe the worry away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, unable to stop herself from the words even as she held back the touch.

He held up a red envelope. “You get one of these yet?”

She shook her head.

He offered it to her.

Lil took out the card inside and read.

The Closed Circuit is no place for city slickers. You’re going to prove it with an old-fashioned cattle drive. In teams of two, contestants will have twenty-four hours to round up, drive, sort, and pen twenty head of cattle. Your stock handling, horsemanship, rope skills, and teamwork will be put to the test. Late returns and missing cattle are automatic disqualifications.

Her temperature rose as she read.

They were going to be on teams. Overnight.

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