Page 110 of Tame Our Wild

Arrogance kept me steady. It was blinding.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom says to Melanie. “You are the one who recovers gracefully.”

Mel twists her lips to the side and glances at me. “They aren’t wrong. If anyone knows how to come back after a setback quickly, it’s you.”

More tears pour from my eyes now, and I drop my head into my hands, my tears soaking into my sweatshirt sleeves.

“Oh, honey.” My dad’s rough hand reaches out to rub soothing circles on my back. “This will pass. I know it’s hard right now, but if you keep riding as you have been, you’ll still have plenty of years in the PBR.”

I wipe under my eyes with my sleeves and sit up. “That’s not why I’m crying.”

“It’s not?” Mom’s confused tone is accompanied by her groomed brows knitting together.

I shake my head, sniffling. “Even if I had gotten a score tomorrow in round two and made it to the championship round this weekend, it still wouldn’t have mattered going into finals. But Colson—Colson has been so close to a third win, and I ruined that for him. Because of me, he’s done, and he’s already nearing the end of his career.” I point to my chest, everything rushing out of me like a rogue wave I can’t control. “I fucked it up for him because I was the one who wanted to keep him coaching me a secret. He’s been through so much, and I just wasted all his time and ruined the possibility of him winning another buckle.” My eyes swell with more tears. “Aaron would be so disappointed in me.”

“Don’t say that,” Dad says, using his deep tone that hints at how serious he is. “He is probably looking down at you, smiling at how far you have come.” I try to believe him. “Doors open and close all the time, but if you run face-first into one, are you going to choose to stare at it or find another one?”

I ponder his words. “I’d find another one.”

“And you did,” he says confidently. “Just six months ago, you thought you weren’t going to make it back into the PBR, and then that rookie got hurt and a slot opened up for you. Then Aaron passed, and you could’ve let that destroy your season, but Colson offered to coach you, and you chose to put your animosity aside, despite your past with him, because you knew you had nothing else to lose. You weren’t supposed to be sitting here, and here you are, riding better than you were before.”

I nod slowly. “I’ve grown a lot. Some of the things that mattered to me don’t matter anymore, and I’ve been riding better because of it.”

He reaches out, swiping a tear off my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb in a fatherly way that makes my heart clench. “Maybe this season wasn’t about getting to the finals. Maybe it was about the growth you didn’t even know you needed—so that the next time you have this opportunity, you’ve built the grit you need, and you’re ready.”

I sink against his shoulder, smiling through the overwhelming emotion. “Thanks, Dad.”

“So, what’s the next step?” Mom softly grins.

“I—I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I think I need to find Colson and apologize since I’m the reason we got disqualified. There are so many things I want to say to him.” Like the fact that ever since I’ve moved in with him, he has owned a part of my heart. That this hollow feeling carving deep into my chest isn’t the fact that I’ve lost the rest of my season, but that it’s the thought of possibly losing him.

I chew on my bottom lip, nipping a little too hard when Melanie sucks in a rapid breath, and her gaze snaps to mine. “You may not have to apologize.”

My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”

Mel thinks for a moment before she says, “You know how I have access to your email, and it’s how I got into your room and surprised you when you and Colson were about to—” She snaps her mouth shut, both of us going still at the way my parents eye us inquisitively. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “You have an email from John Barrett, the commissioner, in your inbox.”

She slides her phone across the table to me, and I grab it, my eyes eagerly reading each line of the email before they widen. My heart bursts in my chest.

“What is it?” Mom purses her mouth in concern.

I swallow. “John said he’s reconsidered. He’s letting us finish the rest of the season.”

FORTY-SEVEN | HARLOW

Distress snakes through my body, tightening my bones together in a way that makes me worried that they will snap. I stand in the line of riders for the introduction of night two for the event in Albuquerque, waiting to catch a glimpse of the one rider who will put me at ease.

Colson missing the meeting before the event was one thing, but this … this is unlike him to be this late.

Throughout the entire meeting, I had my earbuds blaring music, like my playlist that usually pumps me up for a ride, would counteract the anxiousness seizing my muscles. I didn’t hear a word anyone said. I just leaned against the wall, closing my eyes to try and push down the nauseous feeling.

I should be focusing on my upcoming ride with the bull I drew, Black Magic, but my phone is burning a hole in the back pocket of my jeans, knowing that my last several texts to Colson—asking where he is and if he has been running late—have been delivered but not answered. He didn’t answer my texts or calls last night, either, about John letting us finish the season.

The line starts moving out into the arena, and I force a smile as I strut out into the dark space, aglow with flames, fireworks, and flashing lights. Every time Jax is in my line of sight, I have to keep my lip from curling in disgust.

It makes me wonder what kind of doors he’ll slam face-first into before he learns that carrying himself like a smug asshole isn’t a power, it’s dangerous.

I force myself to slow my steps, the flames across the dirt burning hot against my skin. There are thousands of people staring at me from the stands as they scream and holler in excitement, but it’s not the masses that have my arm hairs raising or goosebumps peppering my flesh.