Remember Tonight

by Chelsea Landon

  “No. . .I don’t think that’s the case. She’s happy with Reed. It’s clear to see he’s the better man for her.”

  “Does that make you sad?” I turn in the seat to face him now. “I mean. . .that’s hard to see, isn’t it?”

  “It was at first but not anymore.” His right hand moves from the steering wheel to my thigh. “I’m not gonna lie to you, I loved her with all my heart. It wasn’t easy on me. For a while, I thought I’d never move on and then one day it got a little easier. Didn’t hurt as bad. And then the next. . .same thing. It’s been two years now and I can’t say I have any feelings towards her. I hope Reed treats her good but romantically, I don’t think of her that way anymore.”

  “Tell me about it?”

  He shifts slightly, maybe uncomfortable with my request. “There’s not much to tell. We just didn’t work out.”

  “Did you break up with her?” I knew a little of what happened, just based off what Kayla had told me the other night, but I didn’t know Callan’s side. Part of me wondered if it’d be the same. If he’d talk about her with the same adoration that Kayla did for him.

  “I did. I got to the point where I knew she wanted to settle down and get married. She’s three years older than me and I was nineteen at the time. I didn’t want those same things. At the time, I could have seen myself marrying her, yeah, but again, I was nineteen and a professional bull rider. I didn’t want to get married.”

  “Do you ever see yourself getting married?”

  “Someday.” He smiles over at me. “I think about it more now than I did then, but it’s hard with bull riding. You never know when your last ride will be and that’s not easy for a woman.”

  “But Reed does it.”

  “Reed’s better at it.” His hand moves higher. “I’m no good at that kind of thing.”

  I have no idea what he meant by that, but I smile, feeling like I know him a little better now. Like somehow that confusion gives me what I was looking for from him. A little truth. Not that he was keeping anything from me, but I can tell he’s reluctant to say anything to me. Maybe from fear, I’m not sure.

  “Now that you’re not in school, what are you planning to do?” He asks, looking out the windshield at the rain, his hand still on my upper thigh as if he doesn’t want to move it even for a moment.

  “Jessie wants me to go to school in Austin with her. She has it all planned but I’m afraid since she met Ty, that’s changed.” I laugh, thinking about the two of them and the fact that they hadn’t emerged from his room since they arrived this morning.

  Callan laughs too, lightly, raising his hand to scratch the underside of his jaw. “Yeah, they hit it off pretty well.” And then he looks at me. “What do you want to go to school for?”

  “I want to be a veterinary assistant.”

  “Why not a veterinarian?”

  “I’m not interested in all that. I’m more interested in helping the animals and making them feel comfortable. Not performing surgeries and what not.”

  He smiles at the song that comes on the radio, giving my shoulder a nudge and when my eyes catch his, I feel like I’m drowning in them, or wanting to. “Wanna dance?”

  “What?” I laugh, looking around but thankful for the subject change none the less and unsure where he’s referring to. “It’s raining.”

  “Oh please. When has the weather ever stopped a girl like you?” He places one hand on the door handle and extends the other to me, nodding to the bed of his truck. “Come with me.”

  I take his hand and let him help me out of the truck. We walk around the back of the truck where he puts the tailgate down and then bends down to pick me up setting me on the tailgate. “Up you go.”

  He climbs up there next and walks to the back window, reaches inside and turns up the Zac Brown song I adore. And then he moves, shifting his feet over a muddy truck bed towards me, reaching for my hand.

  I take it, again, as he draws my body near. His hands move to my waist, mine to his shoulders. “And wonders if this bed is strong enough to hold us. . .” He whispers in my ear, altering the lyrics.

  I pull back and shake my head. “You never alter Zac Brown.”

  He raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Noted.” His chest shakes with laughter as he forces me to lay my head against his chest, his body slowly moving in circles. I listen to the lyrics. “He thinks of Amarillo and the girl he left behind him.”

  I laugh this time, shaking my head that he altered the lyrics again. But it makes me smile and I want him singing to me. His rough voice sends shivers through my body and I tremble against him.

  “You cold?” his arms tighten around me, holding me a little closer as I wrap myself around him. It feels good to be with him like this, my head against his chest hearing the gentle rhythm of his breaths.

  I breathe in deep, the fresh smells of rain and wet dirt invade my senses. And then the fresh smells of Callan, leather, dirt, fresh smells I’m growing to love. I’ll remember this moment right here too. I will because while he’s slow dancing with me, the rain starts again and it’s something I’ve never experienced before. As if my heart is telling me, remember this, cherish it because it’s going to be a memory I keep, a sliver of light in a darkness that surrounds me at times. Or maybe, a sliver of hope that I felt something more than intended?

  I don’t know.

  I’m nervous to feel something for Callan. He’s the type of guy that’s easy to fall for but harder to forget. The combination in my mind is deadly. A slow creeping smile overtakes me, molded by visions of what it would be like to fall for him. I imagine it’s similar to this feeling. The jolt he gives my heart and the diamonds I see staring back at me.

  The song switches but we don’t stop dancing and Clay Walker comes on next, filling the silence we didn’t feel the need to fill with words.

  I’m not always the most graceful person around and with the mud in the back of the truck and then rain, we slip and then we fall, both trying to right ourselves but causing each other to fall again. “I forgot how slippery this bed gets in the rain.” He says, laughing but then notices that I’m wincing in pain. “Are you okay?”

  I can’t fight the giggles and break into laughter with him, clutching my elbow that I know is now bruised. He reaches for it, kissing it softly with wet lips. “Better?”

  I sigh watching him. “Your mouth certainly has a way of making me feel better.”

  He scans my eyes as the tip of his fingers trace along my cheek until they meet my lips. “There’s a lot more my mouth can provide, you know.” Beads of water drip from his chin and then his eyes sparkle, playful as a smile tugs at his lips, his breathing as heavy as the rain falling over us. “Sex in the rain?”

  I blink, trying to see him through the drops. “Are you sure?”

  “Shut up and take your clothes off.”

  I laugh, turning my head to face him. Over his shoulder, I see the clouds rolling in are low, like fog blanketing the valley we’re parked in. His hand raises and wipes down the side of my face freeing it of the rain. “Sexy. Yet so demanding.”

  “Damn right.” He rolls and then he’s on top of me—that buckle digging into my stomach. He winks, remembering, his eyes holding mine like heavy weights.

  My lashes sprinkle water on my cheeks when I blink, it feels like soft kisses. Callan’s arms give way and he settles his weight on me, giving me every hard defined line of his sculpted body. The cool metal of the bed gives me a jolt, adding to the spike in my adrenaline that he’s this close again, something I swear I’ll never get used to.

  The rain picks up and I smile, closing my eyes and feeling Callan’s heavy hot breath warming my skin immediately. Arching my back, he draws back to lean against his feet. His hands work my wet shirt over my head and then palm my breasts, rolling my wet nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I moan at his touch, consumed by him and wanting everything and anything he’s going to give.

  Pulling against his shoulders, I have to have
him now. Right now. His lips make a path up my body slower than I care for and I’m eagerly tugging at him, writhing against him. Anything I can do to get him inside of me. He seems hell bent on taking his time and it’s both frustrating and endearing that he’s wanting this to last. It seems anytime we’re together, he’s trying to stop time, slow it down and worship me.

  We’re soaking wet in minutes when the rain picks up and his body slides over mine. My head tips back, his hands cradling the back of my head, his mouth moving over my chest to my nipples and then back up again when he enters me with a low groan.

  Pulling my hair to the side, he uses his teeth gently against my overheated skin, barely brushing but enough that it sends my nerves over the edge, making me moan in pleasure and shiver with desire.

  My legs part allowing him better access, my feet resting on his jeans that are wrapped around his calves. His muscles flex when he pushes forward, the movement of his hips causing me to shudder. The moment his thrusts come a little faster, my eyes fall shut and hold him as tight as I can. My hands slip over his rain-soaked shoulder and then raise above my head where he holds them against the metal bed of the truck.

  We break apart, gasping for breath in the intensity of the heat surrounding us. He’s eager for more, his mouth parting from mine and moving to my neck. My arms wrap tightly around him when his movements slow down, making this last. Drawing back, he gives me a look I’ll never understand. Starry eyes meet the bluest of days, raindrops from his hair landing on my skin. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. He knows what’s happening.

  I’ve always known that feeling when you fall for someone, it happens in a moment. A forever moment. The kind that demands to be felt. You know when it usually happens because from then on, nothings the same. You think differently and you know that, should you let this happen, let this feeling overtake you, it could hurt.

  You don’t know how it’s going to end either. You’re taking a chance. It’s like jumping into muddy waters. You can’t see the bottom. You have no idea how deep it is or even if the water’s warm. Testing it with your toes, you see it’s refreshing, something you could see yourself enjoying and you jump in.

  Forgetting the hesitation, you jump.

  I jumped.

  In the back of the pick-up truck when the sun dips down, as the rain kissed my cheeks and Callan’s body moved above me, I jumped into that muddy water.

  I sit in the front row at the AT & T Center, a little sorer and smiling. Callan’s memory burning my skin like his sweet summer kisses he gave me in the rain and all week long. I knew then that I didn’t care if this feeling lasted twenty minutes or twenty years, I’d take it.

  Jessie’s beside me and we both look up to see Kayla sitting down next to us, the dusty air around us bringing with it stale beer, popcorn, and manure.

  Every time I see Kayla I can’t help but wonder how Callan was with her? Like how did they act? Did he look at her the way Reed does, with total and utter devotion?

  “What are they scored on?” Jessie asks, wondering when Ty’s score of eighty-one pops up on the screen. It’s a good score, but he doesn’t seem all that pleased with it when he kicks at the dirt. All three of the James brothers had been struggling and here we are on the last night in San Antonio and that score could have knocked Ty out of the top ten.

  “Style, control. . .” Kayla is extremely knowledgeable when it comes to bull riding and it’s clear she’s spent a lot of time around the rodeo life. “Both the rider and the bull are scored on a ride. Zero to one fifty points for the bull and same for the rider. They’re judged on control, rhythm with the way the rider moves with the bull and whether he stays on for the full eight seconds. If he’s bucked off, he doesn’t get a score. But the bull still does.”

  “What is the bull scored on?” I ask, feeling like I’m learning about Callan’s passion. Makes me feel closer to him.

  Kayla takes a drink of the water in her hand. When she’s finished, she puts the cap back on. “They’re judged on how high they kick, how hard they spin, drop to the buck, power on the riders arm, belly-rolls and how many times the change direction.”

  It was all a lot of information but helpful. Kayla definitely knew rodeo.

  “Do they ever get a perfect score?”

  “I’ve never seen one. I’ve only heard of a hundred once. Although when Callan stayed on Red Dragon in the world finals to win, he was given a ninety-six and that was the best ride I’d ever seen. I haven’t personally seen higher yet.”

  I can see that familiar black hat by the chute and I smile, his memory once again moving over me when he smiles at me, winking.

  He stands and throws a leg over the gate. The chute clock counts down sixty seconds as he mounts the bull and grips the flat braided rope adjusting his bull rope and then rubbing his riding hand with rosin. Three other guys assist him hanging over the side. Sniper rears back already trying to toss Callan off him. He grabs the bars, hands struggling to keep from falling.

  When he has his rope secured, he gives the nod and the chute opens. That’s when I know what’s about to happen. There’s no control in Callan’s movements and it’s clear he didn’t have a good grip on his rope.

  The bull storms out of the chute and twists sideways kicking up his back legs. Callan keeps his balance, but I can immediately tell there’s something wrong. He doesn’t have that same confidence in him.

  He’s rattled.

  Kayla tenses beside me, her hands fly to her mouth when she realizes what’s about to happen.

  The bull turns back into Callan’s hand and that’s when I see it happening in slow motion.

  Callan’s thrown hard into the dirt and lands on his stomach only to have the bull turn on him and come down on his back with his front legs. Callan screams in pain, I can hear it from here.

  All three of us jump to our feet as the bullfighters distract Sniper and two more guys help Callan to safety. He stumbles around but seems alert.

  Kayla grabs my hand. “Let’s go down there.”

  Kayla must have connections because they don’t even bat an eye as she pushes her way into the room where Callan’s sitting, his head in his hands as a doctor looks at his back. I hadn’t seen it from our view, but the bull’s horns had got him in the ribs. Even with wearing his protective vest, his ribs are already purple, swollen maybe even broken.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, wanting to go over there but he holds up his hand.

  “I’m fine.” His voice is different, tense, cold, unattached.

  Kayla looks at Callan and then me, “I’ll give you two a minute.”

  “I’m fine, Alanna,” Callan says, waving me off. “Just go back and watch the show.” I don’t want to and I think he knows it. “Go.”

  He gives me this look that I can’t describe. It’s an emotion more than it’s a look. I want to cry when I see it. It reminds me of when he found out I was only seventeen. He’s mad, maybe at himself, but I can’t help but think this is changing us.

  We left San Antonio that night and drove back to Callan’s house. He spends the next few days in bed letting his ribs heal. They’re not broken but tender. It’s the night before he’s leaving to Thackerville, Oklahoma for their Labor Day weekend show.

  He says nothing but pats the side of the bed. I lay next to him, naked, and his look confuses me. He has that look in his eye that I can’t identify, but I know, deep down, it’s going to break my heart. It’s the one where he makes me feel so special one minute, and then the next, I’m hurting. He looks down at my hip, his thumb brushing over my skin and then he pulls me closer, his mouth finding mine.

  I don’t understand his movements, they’re slow and gentle like he’s wanting it to last, but, strangely enough, there’s sadness in every touch.

  The sun breaks into his room, bathing my skin in a bright light. It’s warm but not as warm as his kiss. I close my eyes, loving the way his hands feel roaming over my skin. He’s gentle, almost as if he’s trying to be. His hands sh
ake slightly, a nervous edge to his creased brow.

  He moves differently with me, his body hovering over mine, kissing deeper, letting me know something has changed. I feel like this was him saying goodbye in a sense.

  I’m savoring the warmth and everything he’s giving to me and the way his mouth hardly ever parts from mine. I want to say something to him, tell him that I love him, but it just doesn’t seem like the right time or that he would want me to.

  His hands start to tremble moving from my hips to my face, cupping my cheeks. He presses his weight into my body and takes my breath with it. I don’t mind, I want that feeling of not being able to breathe because that’s the way he makes me feel.

  “Alanna.” He whispers, his lips urgent against mine as his movements speed. When he pulls back, his elbows now supporting his weight, his features are strangely determined. Like he’s trying to find the words to tell me something.

  I’m not sure I want to hear it. Unnerved by what I’m feeling, tears burn my eyes.

  Callan turns the other way, never meeting my eyes when he sees that, his head falling against my shoulder. Neither one of us can hold back any longer as he throws himself into his movements. We both find our release at the same time and it somehow makes it that much better. When his body collapses against mine, my arms wrap around him never wanting to let go.

  Exhaling heavily, he slides over my body and to my side. I close my eyes and breathe in deep wondering what it was he was going to say.

  What keeps going through my mind was that he saw those tears and he turned his head.

  I know this feeling. It’s down deep. He’s pushing me away.

  It’s around one that morning when I wake up in his bed and don’t feel the warmth of his body next to mine.

  Pulling on his shirt, I go looking for him to see him in the kitchen sitting on the floor with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

  “Why are you here?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

  “Because I want to be.” My words tremble.