Page 89 of Tame Our Wild

My eyes roll. She’s waiting with bated breath to hear it, and she’ll keep hanging it over my head if I don’t. “Alright, I’ll say it. You were right.”

She thrusts her cone in my direction. “And don’t you forget it.”

A drop of ice cream lands on my hand, and I lick it off, pondering that. “Besides us, and Mom and Dad obviously, you’re the only other person who knows why our rivalry started in the first place. Why were you so positive that I was going to jump into bed with him? You knew how much I hated him for what he said back then, and you still thought something would happen anyway when I said he was going to be my coach.”

Melanie shrugs, licking her lips. “I think you guys understand each other in ways other people don’t. You’re crazy competitive with each other, but there was something magnetic about the way you guys looked at each other. I think that’s why people have followed along with you two. Those looks you guys would give each other—” She purses her mouth, puffing out a breath.

“It was hatred.”

“It was electric,” she corrects.

“The entire time I’ve known him, he’s doubted me. Now I don’t know how I feel about him.” I chomp into the waffle cone.

She gives me a look that tells me she’s calling me on my bullshit. I’m right when she bluntly says, “Yes, you do, you’re just too scared to admit it because you’re afraid you’re losing part of your purpose if you forgive him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Yes, you are. And as much as I love you and Colson’s rivalry, I love you more. Which is why I need to be honest and say that maybe it’s time to let what he said go.”

Let it go.

I slump back in my seat. “He’s just like so many other people out there, Mel, thinking that I can’t keep up with them just because I don’t have a dick.”

This conversation pulls at my heartstrings, bringing back so many of the reasons I ride.

Her head tilts, regarding me. “I have a hard time believing you’d still be letting him coach you if he said those things to you again that he did all those years ago. This entire time he’s been coaching you, has he told you to quit or go back to the women’s rodeo circuit?”

All our conversations flash by in an instant. “Well, no.”

Melanie finishes her waffle cone and dusts off her hands. “People are always going to have their opinions, Harlow, and that’s never going to change. After watching you this long, I don’t think it’s ever been about proving everyone wrong. It’s been about proving one man wrong because what he said hurt you. Before the rodeo in Ember Ridge, when you met him, you rode because you loved the thrill of it. I think your mindset shifted when Colson said those things to you because they were painful to hear. He was the man you idolized, the rider you looked up to because you wanted to be where he was. With your rivalry behind you, it’s clear now that everyone else’s opinions have never been the issue—you’re too nervous to let the past go because his disbelief in you became your entire professional identity, and you aren’t sure what riding looks like without that.”

My stomach flops painfully. Suddenly, I’m not interested in my ice cream anymore. “Damn. Hitting me hard with that one.”

“Am I wrong?”

Her comments hit my heart dead on, leaving a burning sensation behind my eyes. As much as I want to find an excuse and fight her, I can’t, because maybe she’s right, again. Scratch that, I know she is because those things Colson said back then are now being written over with something else, and it’s changing the narrative.

Now that I’ve gotten to know Colson deeper than the surface level, it’s clear that we’ve both had demons collecting dust. All these years, attacking each other has been our temporary cleanse—our way of dealing with things because, for some reason, we’re tethered together in a way that the universe wanted. I’ve never understood it, but maybe we’re still in each other’s lives because confronting things together is the only solution to moving on.

Letting things go.

I’m not sure what riding looks like when I try to leave the girl obsessed with her image behind, along with the rivalry that’s been a constant push since that night in the bar when I punched him, but I want to try.

It’s taken a long time, but I know now that I’m the only one who can set my limits. Sure, I’m competitive as hell, but I miss riding for me. Miss that feeling when I could brush the dirt off my chaps and keep going because I wanted to, and not because I felt like I had to prove something. I’ve already felt how freeing it’s been over the past few months. How much more could my riding improve if I let go of the string of resentment I still hold deep down for Colson?

Turning toward the ice cream shop behind me, I toss my cone into the air, and it lands in the trash can several feet away against the wall. I rotate back toward Mel with a satisfied grin.

My brows knit together when I see the glare she is giving me. “What?”

“See, you are competitive about everything. You would’ve pouted if you missed that.”

“Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are, but I love you for it.”

Getting vulnerable is difficult for me, but I try anyway. “I know I shouldn’t care, but what if I end up losing a part of myself and my professional career when this competitiveness between Colson and me completely fizzles out?”

Bracing her arms on the table, she leans over her forearms, peering into my eyes. “Who said you have to be done being competitive? You and I both know that riders filter in and out of this league all the time, whether it’s injuries, retiring, or fluctuating skill level.”