Living in the moment.
When we’re dressed and ready, time becomes a blur because my stomach is in knots about seeing him again. If it weren't for Jessie, I wouldn’t have even managed to get to the ticket booth.
“Do you still have any of that rum?”
Jessie laughs looping her hand in mine. “No, it’s in the truck. Let’s go to a rodeo.”
“Can we get two tickets?” Jessie asks taking a step towards the ticket booth. It’s apparent the event has already started by the lack of line.
The ticket attendant looks up at us. “What’s your name? I have two tickets on will call that I’ve been told to ask names for.”
“Uh. . .Alanna Rodger.” Jessie says, smiling back at me.
The attendant smiles. “Finally the girls we’ve been looking for.” And then he hands us two front row tickets for the two night show.
Jessie and I both gape at one another. Callan had reserved two tickets for me in the chance that I did show up.
“Holy shit,” Jessie says wrapping her arm around mine again.
Because of our minor detour, we missed the opening ceremonies. When we get inside, the sight before us is unreal. Un-freaking real. It’s loud. That’s the first thing I notice. There’s a man on a bull, nineteen thousand fans screaming, the smells of dirt, manure, and the thrill of adrenaline soaked riders risking their lives all for an eight second ride. Jessie scrunches her nose, she hates that smell but it’s part of the experience.
It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. I’ve been to rodeos and have seen bull riding but never on this scale. I don’t notice I’m breathing heavy until I feel the thudding in my chest and the sound echoing.
Immediately I can see the allure to the sport, it’s in the adrenaline, the guts, and the pride it takes to experience the most dangerous eight seconds on dirt.
As one tames a bull before us—or attempts to—another five watch his every move, waiting for their chance at the beast they drew.
“This is crazy,” Jessie shouts over the screaming fans and the announcers when we take our front row seats. Front freaking row!
The rider on the bull registers a four second ride before he’s bucked off, the crowd cheering him on when he manages to get away from the full rearing by his head. Bullfighters quickly detour the bull back to the bull pen. Despite the rider not scoring, it doesn’t deter the crowd any with their cheering.
Scanning the sinewy cowboys hanging over the rails, I search for that black hat. My problem is there are so many black hats they begin to all look the same.
“I wonder which one is Callan. They all look alike in hats and chaps.” Jessie says, looking around.
She’s right. They do and then I panic a little. “I hope we didn’t miss him.”
But then I see him about twenty feet from me. The boy who made me travel five and a half hours to see him. It’s definitely him.
He’s leaning against the rails, elbows resting and head bent forward slightly watching the action in the middle of the arena with another guy beside him, both pointing out different things and deep in discussion.
“That’s him,” I say pointing in his direction and giving him a whistle.
He hears the whistles, his head jerking towards the sound. His eyes search the crowd and then land solely on me. He traps me in his gaze immediately and I take a deep breath, swallowing over the sudden lump in my throat.
And then he smiles back at me with the power to knock me off my feet.
Do I wave? Blow a kiss? No, don’t do that.
“Who’s that next to him?” Jessie asks only I can’t break Callan’s stare.
“It’s either Reed or Ty since the back of his vest says James.”
By then, I’m practically panting. His attention was being demanded beside him, but Callan’s stare remains locked with mine. He smiles, slow and sexy and then turns to the guy next to him. He’s being called to the shoot and I’m thankful I hadn’t missed his ride. When he’s in the chute, he peeks up at me again.
Have you ever seen a boy show off?
It’s entertaining to watch but you know it’s happening when he gives it his all, knowing she’s watching, just to prove he was worth it.
I have a feeling that’s the case and I couldn’t be more excited to watch him do just that.
The announcer comes over the speakers. “Currently ranked third in the Built Ford Tough standings, just a few points back from his older brother helping with the flank strap, this next rider is one of the best and he’s proving it. In 2011, he qualified for his first world finals and won it. From Decatur, Texas, Callan James.”
The crowd roars to life, as do Jessie and I. What catches my attention is the female response to him. It’s clear he’s a fan favorite. My stomach turns, watching and wondering why me immediately. Look at these girls around me. I bet he had his choice of any of them and he asked me to come.
Stop it, Alanna.
I hate that my nerves are making me think like this because it’s so unlike me.
Callan throws his leg over the chute and mounts Shooter. He’s wearing his hat, unlike the rider before him who wore a helmet.
“James’ is coming off an injury in Boise but he seems tougher than ever. I talked to him in the hallway this afternoon and asked him how he was feeling and if he had a plan for drawing Shooter, the same bull who tried to end his career last year.” The announcer laughs. “You know what he said? There’s no game plan but hang on and try. This sport defines what danger means. We play the game and we take the pain.”
I can see him saying that. Hear the slow drawl he has and the impact his voice has on me.
“Shooter is notorious for throwing riders over his right shoulder.”
I watch as Callan adjusts the wrap, three other guys surrounding him and assisting. The bull beneath him is oddly calm, eerily so that it makes me wonder if they’re all like that. Callan takes his left hand and wipes it aggressively, over and over again down a rope and then works on wrapping the bull rope around Shooter.
The bull beneath him suddenly rears up and the man next to him holds Callan by his vest to keep him steady. My heart jumps at the danger I’m witnessing.
Callan steadies himself when the bull comes down by placing his hands on the bars beside him and then lowers himself back down to adjust the rope again. When he’s got it where he wants it, his left hand securely tethered to the bull by a rope, he moves forward on the bull so he’s practically on the shoulders.
And then he goes still.
He gives the nod.
The nod.
The bucking chute opens and out barrels a brown and white bull that’s so much larger than the rest of them he looks like a beast. He comes out strong, his back legs kicking out and spinning, his head pitched low to the ground.
“He’s faced Shooter six times and old Shooter’s had thirty-six straight buck-offs since then.” The announcer says, the crowd drowning him out as they cheer on Callan. On the drop, Callan maintains complete control. I can’t imagine the strength and control it takes to stay on the bull, but after last night and seeing the way his body moves, I have a pretty good idea.
The buzzer sounds, signifying an eight second ride and the crowd goes ballistic. Callan dismounts the bull when he’s mid-air and lands on his knees about three feet from the bull. My heart pounds, a feeling of dread washing over me as I watch this. At any minute that bull can turn on him and charge. That’s not easy to watch.
There’s a silence as he stares up at a board, awaiting his score and then smiles. That’s when I get a good look at his ass in chaps and I’m not disappointed at all. The back of his vest has his last name and the number fifty-five on it.
“We’ve seen history here folks!” The announcer says. “How about ninety-five and a quarter?” The crowd roars in response to the score he’s given.
Callan smiles, removing his hat and waving to the crowd, nodding and clapping to the score he’s awarded.
He looks over his
shoulder at me as he’s heading to the chute gate and nods. I start laughing. Just a moment later, they show him on the screen being interviewed. “How’s it feel?” They ask when they tell him his score.
“It’s ‘bout time.”
“I said, history was made here today, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah,” he laughs out a rushed breath, still trying to catch up with the adrenaline. “I got my revenge on him.”
Jessie and I sit down in our seats for the first time since we arrived. “This is awesome,” she says all smiles.
“It definitely is.”
It’s another hour into the show and I can tell they’re almost done for the night. That’s when a tall blonde approaches us. “I’m Kayla. Are you Alanna?” She looks at me, smiling. She reminds me of something out of a magazine but still simple and down to earth. Tight stone washed jeans and a teal shirt that matches her cowboy boots.
I nod. “I am.”
She gives a nod towards the stairs. “Callan’s waiting for you guys. He told me to bring you back.”
I stand immediately as does Jessie. “Okay.”
She leads us down a long hallway and then into a room where there are about ten bull riders either standing against walls or sitting on the floor. It appears to be some sort of locker room, maybe, or waiting area.
That’s when I spot that black cowboy hat. He’s standing with his back to the wall, staring down at his bull rope and glove in his hand. I think he senses my presence, or, it’s Jessie’s slow whistle that captures his attention.
Either way, our eyes lock and he gives me that once over. Starting at my boots, all the way to my face. He drinks in my every curve at the same time I look over him. He’s wearing a black shirt splattered with dirt and logos from sponsors, leather chaps, dark jeans and those same cowboy boots. He looks delicious and I have a hard time just standing there and not running to him.
Would it be too much to run and jump in his arms?
Probably.
He pulls in a breath but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he’s happy to see me, as if my presence here has immediately improved his mood. Not that he is in a bad mood, just that it’s better.
“Hey.” His eyes smile when he speaks, stepping towards me.
“Hey.” I want to immediately reach out and touch him, but I don’t, I wait.
“You came.”
“I did.” I can’t help myself and press my palm to his chest. I can feel his heart pounding under my hand and it sends mine racing too. “I wasn’t finished with you, eight seconds.” He smiles, again, and it’s the only gesture I need. If I wanted reassurance that I came, I had it now.
He leans forward so our faces are close, his breath on my face and I’m afraid of what he might say to me. “Nice shirt.” He smiles, tugging at the bottom of it.
“Thanks.” I wink, swatting his hand away as I try to hide the flush of my cheeks.
He gives me a look with a smile, one that lets me know by the arch of his brow and the slow grin forming he’s looking forward to tonight. With me. “Does your daddy know you’re here?”
I laugh, shaking my head about the same time Jessie laughs too. “No.” I wink. “Snuck out of town.”
He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and watch with rapt attention as he glides over his lower lip. And then he winks at me. “Such a rebel.” He says stepping closer. “It’s a two night show. You got a hotel room?”
“Not yet.” I take a breath trying to calm my heart. “We came straight here.”
He notices my response to him and his grin gets a little higher. He likes that effect he has on me. “You can room with me and Ty if you want.”
A bed. With Callan. Yes, please.
“Who’s the girl?” A man to his left asks when Callan steps back.
“These are my brothers. This one is Reed,” He motions to the taller one who just spoke with the darker brown hair and bright blue eyes and then gives a nod to the shorter one, who looks a lot like Dani. Same hair and eyes as his brother but looking at them it’s clear he and Dani must take after their mom. “And this is Ty.” He then shoves Reed backward into the wall. He’s certainly rough. “He’s taken. . .” And then he reaches for Ty and gives him a push towards Jessie, smiling. “But he’s not.”
Jessie wraps her arm in Ty’s. “I’m the single friend looking for a bull rider.”
Ty grins. “You came to the right place, darlin’.”
Reed grabs his bag and then Kayla’s hand. “You boys ready? I need a drink.”
I look at Jessie and then Callan.
“We’re not twenty-one.” I feel ridiculous saying that, as though speaking my age suddenly makes me feel like a baby.
“So?” Callan gives me a look like I shouldn’t be worried.
“You’re going to a bar?”
“No one will ask.” He reaches for my hand. “You’re with me.”
I’m with him?
I most certainly am.
On the ride to the bar, Callan has me ride with him. I’m still on a high from what I’ve seen. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. “Is it as hard as it looks?”
“What?” He’s got one hand on my knee, the other on the steering wheel.
“Bull riding.”
He laughs, the action shaking the both of us because I’m sitting right beside him, refusing to allow any space between us. “Yeah, it’s tough competition. Shooter performed tonight, but you never know if the bull you draw is going to. You can be as good as you can be, but it’s never easy.”
“Why do you do it?”
“The rush. It’s unlike anything in the world. The adrenaline. . .it’s incredible.”
I smile, feeling like he’s just giving me a little more insight into him.
The bar is about three miles from the arena and Callan’s right, they don’t question our age. We’re with professional bull riders and it’s clear they’re never questioned in these parts.
As soon as we enter that bar, I feel like I’m in another world. Around a hundred people surround a dance floor, some dancing, some drinking, others simply relaxing. With a firm grasp on my hand, Callan leads me through the throngs of people to a more private corner of the bar. Jessie, Ty, Kayla and Reed follow.
Without asking for them, longneck beers are delivered directly to the table. Callan hands me one. “Thirsty?”
I nod taking the beer, unable to keep my hands from shaking. It’s all so surreal that I’m here with him. I feel like some kind of groupie that’s been asked backstage.
This must be the bar that most of the riders go to when they’re in town because I see a few from tonight.
When I sit down, Callan stands. “I’ll be right back.”
He takes a step in the other direction towards a man who just walked by. They must know each other because they immediately strike up a conversation.
Kayla moves to sit next to me. “You okay, honey? You look nervous.”
“Yeah,” I take a drink of my beer hoping that it calms my nerves. “This is just a lot to take in. Last night we were having sex on the floor of a barn and now I’m at a bar with him in Tulsa.”
Kayla laughs at my bluntness and the way I revealed all that to her. “They’re the rock stars of rodeo. Be prepared for that and you’ll do just fine.”
Back home, rodeo was a way of life. Never had I seen it on this scale.
I look to Jessie and Ty, engaged in conversation and smile. She’s laughing at something he’s telling her which for Jessie is not something you see that often.
Big & Rich blares through the bar, thumping in my chest. Jessie is now dancing in her seat on Ty’s lap, moving to the beat of “Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy.”
Ty starts laughing, he is either turned on or finds Jessie’s dancing funny. “Show me what you got, baby,” he says, smacking her ass.
Ty reminds me of Callan when he talks, slow and raspy.
Reed gets up when Ty and Jessie leave to the dance floor and joins
Callan and the man next to him. Callan turns to me and winks, a reassurance he’ll be back soon.
Kayla smiles leaning into my shoulder. “How long have you known Callan?”
“Oh, like a week, almost two weeks.”
She seems surprised by that. “He’s pretty taken. I would have thought it was longer. You just don’t see him act rattled about anything, but I could tell the moment he showed up this morning something was different about him.”
I glance over at her. “Do you know him very well?”
“Yeah, we dated for two years.” She’s so nonchalant about the way she says it, there’s no weirdness.
Well for her. For me, I’m not sure what to say. “Oh.”
“It may sound strange but I’m with Reed now.”
“Oh.” It seems that’s the only word I’m capable of. “Why did you guys break up?”
“I wanted a family and to get married. He didn’t want those same things or he wasn’t ready yet.”
I take another drink of my beer, Kayla takes a sip of her water. “And now you’re with Reed? How’d that happen?”
“We went out for a drink one night and things just sort of led that way.”
“So you broke up with Callan then?” I feel weird asking these questions. My eyes keep darting from Kayla to Callan and then to the floor.
“No, it wasn’t like that. He broke up with me long before I was with Reed.” She seems sad by that. Like it wasn’t what she wanted. And then I think she realizes that maybe she might want to justify her look. “But I’m happy. Callan and I are very different from one another.”
“How so?” She’s piqued my interest. I don’t know a lot about Callan and I’m dying to know more. I cross my legs towards her, leaning in so I can hear her over the music.
“He’s very determined.”
I knew that. “Anything else I should know?”
“He’s an amazing guy.” She says this with a sense of pride and I like that.
“And now you’re dating his brother.” I look at Reed standing beside Callan. He’s about an inch taller than him but still, they’re not overly tall. Maybe around five foot nine at the most. I’m five three so it’s not like I need him any taller. I can see Reed’s appeal, just as easily as I see Callan’s. They’ve got that rugged cowboy thing going on with the tan skin, muscles everywhere you look, scruffy faces and roused golden locks. I definitely see the appeal.
Remember Tonight Page 11
