by C. J. Welles
I met Brett when I first moved to Kansas City five years ago. We’ve always been friends, but he’s hinted at us being a couple a few times. Three weeks ago, he came around home and we were watching a movie and having a few wines. Somehow, we ended up kissing and I gave in and we had sex. The next morning things were weird between us. I only wanted it to be a one-time thing, but I know Brett wants more. The few times we’ve talked since it's been awkward. I feel like a bitch for going there. I got his hopes up and I know I hurt him.
“They’re only awkward if you let them be. Brett’s a nice guy and he’s got a great job. You two get along well, why don't you try a relationship with him? God, if he offered himself to me I’d jump at it.”
“I know he’s nice, I wouldn't be friends with him if he wasn't. But I just… I don't feel it with him. We don't have the sparks between us. Any sparks at all.”
“Hmmm, well try and recover your friendship at least.”
“Yeah, I’ll try. Anyway, I better get home and get ready. Are you coming to mine or do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
I give her a little wave as I walk to my car.
Bring on tonight.
*
“HOLY SHIT, GIRL,” Carmen says with a huge smile on her face as she walks into my lounge room.
“Do you think it’s too much?” I ask as I look down at what I’m wearing.
“Hell no, you look hot.”
I rummaged around in my wardrobe and found my old cowboy boots. They were a birthday present years ago from my high school boyfriend. I’m wearing a pair of skinny leg jeans, my boots and I found a plain black tight t-shirt. I was going to wear a belt, but it’d only be for show. I also couldn’t even find it.
“You’re going to have all the guys droolin’ tonight.”
I roll my eyes. “Don't be an idiot. I’m about as boring as watching paint dry.”
“If I looked half as good as you, I’d be one happy lady.”
I just shake my head at her words as I walk around and try to find my purse and cell. If I was a lesbian, I’d go for Carmen. She’s a size eight and five foot eight. She has strawberry blond hair and bright green eyes. She doesn't realize it, but she’s a head turner. Wherever she goes, she gets the attention of guys.
“Caz, you always look darn good,” I say, as I find my cell on the sofa under my jacket.
“Yeah right.”
“Okay, we’ll agree to disagree. Ready to go?”
Carmen drives us twenty minutes to the south edge of the city, where The Shootout is. When we arrive, the carpark is full of cars. “The place is going to be packed,” I groan as we get out.
“That's usually what happens at bars.”
“Ha-ha,” I reply as I close my door. “Quick let’s go in before I change my mind.”
Walking inside the bar is just like walking into Joe’s back in my hometown. There are wood flooring and a wood bar that is nearly the length of the room and runs along the right-hand side. There are tables and chairs in the middle of the room then to the left of the door is a dance floor and a small stage where there's a DJ set up and a jukebox machine. There are two pool tables next to the dance floor, then in the far back corner is a dartboard. Everything reminds me of home.
The place is packed like I guessed it would be. The majority of the guys are wearing jeans, plaid shirts, and cowboy boots. A few of them are wearing Stetsons or baseball caps. A few guys are wearing button down shirts and nicer looking boots, but not many.
The girls look less like what you would find at Joe’s. At home, they would be dressed similar to the guys, but here most of them are wearing dresses.
“I feel underdressed,” I say to Carmen as we walk to the bar.
“You’re not.” She waves her hand around in the air. “Most of these chicks are here to pick up, especially tonight. Most of the guys from the bull riding are here so the rodeo bunnies would have tagged along.”
“Really? I’ve seen in movies where they do that, but I didn't think it happened in real life.”
“Sure does. Some of them are nice and are legitimately there for the bull riding but some are just there for the Cowboys.”
“How do you know all of this?” I ask after Carmen orders us a Budweiser each.
“Rowan is a bull rider. He’s in the championship this year.”
“Your cousin is a bull rider?
“Yeah, he’s been riding bulls since he’s been big enough to know what a bull is, but it's only been the past four years that he’s been competing in the Nationals. Last year he finished tenth in the world.”
“Damn, that's good.”
We grab our drinks and I follow Carmen as she walks over to where several tables have been butted up against each other. There are around a dozen guys and a few chicks sitting around the tables. There are empty beer mugs and glasses covering the tables.
“Hey, Caz.” I turn to see a tall skinny guy standing up and walking towards Carmen. He’d be around six foot and weigh next to nothing. He’s wide across the shoulders though.
“Happy birthday for tomorrow,” Carmen says as Rowan gives her a hug. I'm guessing it's Rowan since we’re meant to be at his party. “I brought along a friend. This is Casey,” Carmen says as she steps back beside me.
“Happy birthday,” I say as I give him a shy wave.
“Nice to meet you. Pull up a chair and sit down. Tucker and Rex will move for Y'all.”
After a little organizing, we’re sitting down and everyone's talking amongst themselves. I know no one, so am just listening to Carmen talk to Rowan.
Carmen’s asking how long Rowan’s in town for. Apparently, he and a few others are leaving tomorrow and heading to Austin. My hometown isn't far from Austin. Only around two and a half hours away. Where we lived was a little town called Midway. It’s around fifteen minutes from Madisonville. The people mom worked for lived in between the two towns.
After an hour and two more Budweiser’s, Rowan orders us some tequila shots. I’ve never touched tequila before and I know why as soon as I down my shot. It’s way too strong for my liking. I can shoot Jack Daniels easily enough, but tequila makes me want to gag.
“Damn, that's horrid,” I splutter as I place the shot glass down. “It feels like someone just kicked my ass after shoving a burning coal down my throat.”
Carmen, Rowan and a few of his friends burst out laughing.
“You’ll get used to it,” Rowan says as his laughter dies. “Have another one.” He holds out a shot glass to me.
“No fricken way. If I drink that, I’ll be on the floor on my ass.”
Rowan just shrugs. “Just means more for me,” he says as he tips the small glass back.
“Are you ready for dancing yet?” Carmen asks.
I’m good at dancing, but I get shy about it and paranoid when people watch me. “Maybe later, after a few more drinks.”
“Well, you wanna hurry up and drink up.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I salute her. “I’m going to order another drink.” I get up and walk to the bar and order myself a jack and coke and a beer each for Rowan and Carmen.
American Ride by Toby Keith is playing, and it does make me want to dance. Toby is one of my favorite country singers. I grew up around country music and no matter how much Carmen and Brett play all the new songs, I still love country music.
Once I get our drinks, I turn around towards the table, but I freeze when I see the man who is walking through the door. I watch as he casually walks to the exact same table as I’m sitting at. This can't be happening. No way can it be. I must have had more to drink than I thought. Maybe my drink has been spiked. I blink several times, but it’s him and I’m not seeing things. I take a big breath and exhale slowly before I walk back to the table.
I place the drinks down and quickly drink mine, refusing to look in his direction.
Bryson fucking Miller.
Of all the people I’d run into, it’d have to be him.
/>
Life is cruel. It's honest to God cruel. The small amount of time I had my eyes on him, showed me he hasn’t changed at all. He’s still smokin’ hot. He’s just under six foot and he’s so damn built that he’d be able to take on a bull easily. He’s slim but you can see the defined muscles under his shirt. His hair is still blond but it's longer than he used to wear it. He’s wearing a pair of Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots and a black and white checked shirt. He did have his Stetson on, but he placed it on the table as he sat down.
He always was good looking, and the cowboy look suited him. I used to tell him that he should have modeled for cowboy magazines.
“You're quiet,” Carmen says as she leans up against me. “You need to drink more. I’m ready to dance.”
I scull the rest of my Jack then grab the beer from in front of her and drink that as well. I need all the alcohol I can drink. “Let’s go dance.”
I need to be away from him.
Preferably in a different zip code, but the other end of the bar will have to do. The Shootout looked like a big bar when we got here, but with Bryson in here, I feel like I’m on the verge of suffocating.
Good Time by Alan Jackson begins to play, and Carmen and I join in on the line dance that's already formed. It's been a good while since I last line danced, but once you’ve learned to line dance, you don't forget it.
I try to lose myself in the music, but I can feel his eyes boring a hole in me. I know it's him who is making me feel all sweaty and nervous. There's no one else in this bar that would hate me like Bryson does.
After three songs have played, I walk off the dance floor and grab a drink from the bar before going outside. I need fresh air. Just as I get to the door, I run smack bang into someone. I look up and groan. It's one of Bryson's brothers. It's been years since I’ve seen them, and I wouldn't have a clue which one this is.
The twins have always been hard to tell apart. With their light brown hair, dark brown eyes so dark that they nearly look black and their style of clothes the same, I always had difficulties.
“Casey?”
“Ah, yeah. Nath?” I’m thinking it's Nath over Ryan. Nath was always the tamer one out of the three brothers and his eyes were softer than Ryan's.
“It’s been a while. What are ya doing here?”
“I came here with a friend for her cousin’s birthday.”
“You live here, in Kansas City?”
“I moved here five years ago.”
“Small world,” he says as his eyes flick to something behind me. “Bryson’s here.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“He never did tell me what happened between you two.” I just shrug, not wanting to answer. “Yeah, that's the same reaction he always gave me. Might see ya later,” he says as he steps aside for me to walk past.
“Yeah, maybe,” I reply with a small smile as I walk out.
“The last two years have been hard on him,” Nath says causing me to halt. “He’s not the same person you knew.” With that he walks inside, closing the door behind him.
I don’t doubt it.
***
Chapter Three
Casey
I’M DANCING TO My Next Broken Heart by Brooks & Dunn when I feel hands on my hips. I don't have to turn around to know who it is.
“Were you just going to avoid me all night?” he growls in a low voice in my ear.
It's nearly midnight and I’ve managed to stay clear of Bryson. I’ve drunk more Jack’s tonight then I have in the past year and busied myself talking to Rowan and his friends, just so I could keep my eyes and mind off Bryson.
“I wasn't,” I lie.
“I think you’re lyin’,” he slurs a little.
I spin around to face him, with his hands still on my hips and am nearly knocked over by the sheer beauty that Bryson is. His deep blue eyes with lighter blue rings are trained on my eyes. He’s got around a week’s growth. Bryson always went through fads. Sometimes he’d be clean shaven but then other times he’d go a month without shaving. He’s got worry lines on his forehead and I can't help but wonder if I was the one to put them there.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask angrily. “That I’m scared shitless to talk to you? That I’ve felt your eyes on me all night and it both heats and chills my body? That I fucked up years ago? Is that what you want?” I ask with a shaky voice.
My breathing is erratic, and I can feel my heart slamming against my chest as I hold eye contact with him.
He frowns for a moment and I see his eyes briefly soften before the hard look settles in his face again. He mumbles something before he drops his hands from my hips and steps away. He shakes his head then turns around and walks through the crowd and out the door.
“Damn girl, what’d you do for Bry to talk to you?”
“Huh?”
“Bryson Miller, the guy who was just talking to you. He rarely talks to any girls, let alone a stranger.”
“You don't want to know,” I mumble as I walk off the dance floor and into the restroom.
Turning the basin tap on, I splash some water on my face before I brace my arms on each side of the basin. I drop my head down until my chin touches my chest. I hold back the tears as I try to calm my breathing. I feel as though I’m on the verge of a panic attack. It’s been two years since I last had one.
“Are you okay?” Carmen asks as she walks into the restroom. I nod as I slowly bring my head up to look at her in the mirror. “Did Bry say something to you? Do you know him?” she asks with concern in her voice.
“He didn't say anything wrong. We used to date. We were even engaged but things didn't end well.”
“Ohhh,” she drawls out.
“Yeah, oooh. I’m heading home,” I say before I walk out of the room.
*
Bryson
“WE’RE GOING,” I GROWL at Nath and Ryan as I slam the door open and stomp outside. The twins are talking to some random girls. Ryan has one planted on his lap, while Nath stands to the side of the group.
“What?” Ryan asks, confused.
“We’re going. Get the fuck in the truck.”
“I ain't leavin’ yet,” Ryan growls, as he taps the girl sitting in his lap. She climbs off him and he stands up.
“I’ll just drive myself then.” I know I'm way too far gone to drive, but at the moment, I couldn't give a shit. I need to get out of here before I do or say something I’ll regret. I pull my keys from my pocket and begin to walk to my truck. They either come now or they can hitch a ride home later.
“Fuck, Bry, grow up. You can't drive,” Ryan calls out.
I just shrug my shoulders as I keep walking. He knows I’m as stubborn as an ol’ mule. If I want to leave, I will leave. I’m just opening my door when I hear footsteps behind me. Nath reaches over and pulls the keys from my hand.
“Get in, I’ll come back for him later.” Nath was designated driver, anyway. He doesn't drink as often or as much as Ryan and I. Ryan doesn't even drink as much as me.
“What's gotten into you?” Nath asks, once we're on our way back to the trailer. We booked into a trailer park for the night, not far from here. “This have anything to do with Casey?”
I ignore him and grit my teeth when I hear her name.
“Thought so.” He sighs. “Wanna tell me yet, about what happened with you two?”
“Wanna tell me why you’re so interested in my business?” I grind out.
“You always have been a stubborn ol’ bastard,” he says as he shakes his head.
The rest of the drive home is silent. Nath drops me off then goes back to the bar. Once I’m inside, I pour three fingers of whiskey then head to my room and lay on the bed. I reluctantly pull out the letter and read it.
Dear Bry,
Where do I start? This is the hardest letter I’ve had to write so far. I’ve been putting it off. Every time I’ve started to write it, I’ve choked up and tossed it in the trash. I don't know if you’ve ever checked the tiny bin ne
xt to my side table before, but if you have, you’d see it's full of scrunched up paper. Well by the time you’re reading this it won't be.
So today, the day you're reading this (unless you didn't listen to your mom and you haven't opened this letter for months) is my funeral. It’s so hard to write about something that's going to happen in the future and something I won't be at, but write it in the present time. So please bear with me.
Where do I start? There’s so much I want to say and only so much paper to write it on.
I’m going to go right back to the beginning when I first laid eyes on you. As I’m writing this, it's been ten months, one week and three days since we first met. (I’m not a freak who knows this, I had to work it out on the calendar.) Anyway, I was standing next to Jace’s car, sorry I mean TRUCK, talking to him and then I saw this head of blond hair and deep sea-blue eyes looking out the window at me. This may sound weird but right there, at that moment, I knew there was more to ‘Bryson The Asshole Miller’- Sorry but that WAS your nickname- than what you showed the rest of the world.
I saw something in you that drew me to you. As you know I thought it was love. God, even a few months ago before we had the talk, I thought I was madly in love with you.
But back to my original story. I was lost in your eyes and I had to remind myself that I had to breathe. When you only said one thing to me, I was disappointed. I watched Jace’s truck as it drove away, hoping I would catch another glimpse of you. I had my fingers crossed that I’d see you again with Callie and Jace, even though Callie despised you at the time.
You obviously know this, but then the next day I got a knock on the door. I was shitting myself, as I’ve told you before, but when I opened the door, you're beautiful – yes, I said beautiful - face was smiling back at me. I thank god, every day it was you on the other side, not because of the other people I was expecting it to be, but because starting that day, I got to spend the rest of my life with you. You have been by my side since that day.
You know how hard the past few months have been for me and I know it has hurt you just as bad. But I wouldn’t have been able to cope as well as I did if it wasn’t for you. You have been here for me every step of the way and I can’t thank you enough for it.
