Page 78 of Tame Our Wild

His hands flex in front of him while his elbows are braced on the gate. For a brief second, I think he wants to reach for me. “Why do you think I’m coaching you? You are PBR’s Sweetheart, after all. Thanks to you, there’s a whole new audience with eyes on this sport.”

Even competing at small rodeos like this one, I’ve always wanted more.

More recognition.

More respect.

Not just for me, but for the fourteen-year-old girl who everyone rolled their eyes at when she said she wanted to ride a bull. For the girl who knew she could come back after an injury that should’ve ended her career.

All of those things are what have driven me to where I am. But somewhere along the way, I think I lost the girl who fell in love with riding bulls because she felt wild and free.

Being in the professional league completely shifted that mindset. Because people are watching me more than ever.

People know my name.

I feel like I’m always placed under a microscope, and my dreams aren’t only my own anymore. A piece of my dream belongs to all the women out there who are pushing to normalize us taking up space in a man’s world.

A throat clears behind me. The sound is soft and sugary in that way that makes you curious about who it came from.

Colson and I both turn, meeting the bright eyes of a teen girl whose attention is completely locked on me. She sways on her toes, like her body can’t contain the excitement. She knows exactly who I am. Which means if she knows me, she knows Colson Payne. But he might as well be invisible because her blinding smile is directed at me.

I can’t help but grin back.

“Can you sign my hat?” She beams at me with big brown eyes under her cowgirl hat. The girl holds out a black marker, and I take it from her, unable to hide my excitement.

“Of course.” I nod, holding out my hand. She pulls her hat off her head, running her hands down her long, dark brown, matching braids. “What’s your name?”

“Calli,” she answers confidently.

Uncapping the marker, I press it to the brim, scrawling my signature across. “How old are you?”

When she says, “Fourteen,” I swear I feel Colson stiffen beside me in the way it shifts the air between us. “I watch all of your rides, but my mom says I’m not allowed to compete until I’m sixteen.” Her sass nearly makes me smile. “I want to be in the PBR just like you.” I glance behind her to see Calli’s mother, and she’s shaking her head with a grin on her face that she is trying to suppress.

I brave a glance at Colson, noticing his set jaw and hardened features that keep shifting right before my eyes. He’s uncomfortable as hell, and I have an idea why. When I look back down at her, her smile swells the warmth in my chest.

“Do you have any advice on how to get started when it’s that time?” her mom asks me.

The irritated growl emanating from Colson’s throat has my hair standing on end, sending a bad jolt of electricity through my nerves and causing my muscles to tense. But the hopeful girl in front of me with anticipation gleaming in her eyes keeps her focus on me, and I’m grateful she doesn’t catch the agitation radiating off Colson.

I hand Calli’s hat back to her and put the cap on the marker, giving her mom a strained smile. “In a sport like this, investing in a great coach can make all the difference in the world.” Maybe I say it to calm down the brooding bull rider behind me. Or perhaps I voice it out loud because it’s more than true.

If it wasn’t for Aaron treating me like every other bull rider he had worked with, and Colson’s—still surprising—offer to coach me after I lost one of the most important people in the world to me while he is still competing himself, I wouldn’t be sitting in a spot that may push me into the finals in Texas.

I may not be looking, but I feel the loss of Colson’s presence like there was some tether between us that just snapped. I swallow, trying not to show the discomfort that just washed over me.

“It was lovely to meet you, Calli,” I say.

She gives me one last smile and plops her hat back on her head, turning to her mom. I watch them walk away, my heart going out to that young girl, who I hope I’m paving the way for.

When she gets to this point, I hope she’ll have to deal with fewer assholes than I do.

I turn back around, and Colson is walking around to the side doors, avoiding the massive crowd headed out the front. Calli and her mom may not have caught his grumble, but I did. It might not have been words, but I felt that sound in my bones.

Annoyance crawls across my skin, digging into my flesh until I realize I’m speedwalking toward him. My quick footsteps fall behind his as he turns a corner where we are tucked away from wandering eyes, between the edge of the bleachers and the side of the building.

“You going to tell me what that was about?” I snap.

“Nothing, Harlow. Drop it.” Frustration is laced in his tone, but he doesn’t look back at me.