Page 103 of One Last Rodeo

“That tracks.”

"You think he'll ever give it up?" Joel asks.

"How much he wants June? Nah."

"The chase of someone who clearly doesn't even notice him."

I rub at my jaw, thinking about Raf with his wild, dark brown, almost black hair and his quiet spirit. And then I think about June. A woman who's about as outgoing and sunny as her name. They're fire and ice. Rafael loves his privacy. June loves theattention. I don't see how it could work when she spends all her time either in front of or behind a camera lens.

I wonder if people think that about Catalina and me. If they knew the way I was gone for her, they’d understand better how we worked. The sad thing is there was never anusto the outside world looking in.

"If you want someone badly enough, you'll do everything possible to get them to notice you. Even if you think they're too far out of your league."

Joel studies me for a second longer than necessary. “You seem… better,” he says carefully. “Compared to a few days ago.”

Micah snorts. “That’s because he had a girl on his mind. I'm taking it he got her off it. Or he gotoff.”

I shoot him a look. “There’s only one woman on my mind, and she’s not leaving anytime soon. Also, I saw the way you were hitting on Catalina’s sister Isla in Whitewood Creek.”

"Fuck off. She’s smart. So, sue me for having a weakness for smart women." He stomps to his locker door and opens it.

That makes two of us.

I don’t bother denying his comments about Catalina. I shove the last of my gear into my bag. But I'm also going to have a talk with him later, and maybe Catalina too, about the way he was eyeing her younger sister over a glass of whiskey. Knowing Micah, if he’s got his eye on her, I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up in Whitewood Creek during the off-season.

With the semis done, we get two free days before we need to be in San Diego—warming up, prepping, psyching ourselves up for the finals. There will be press interviews, sponsorship meetings and all the things that go into a series finale on one of the biggest stages I've ever ridden on.

Frankly, it's the pinnacle of any professional bull-rider's career.

Normally I’d hop a flight back to Tennessee tonight, reset in my own space, and spend some time with Grandma ahead of my final ride. Or I’d head to San Diego early with the guys, gamble a little, burn off nerves while soaking up the beach and the sun.

But all I want—hell, all Ineed—is to be with Catalina right now. And I know that’s not happening quite yet. I know she's not ready to spend time with me alone. She said as much. She admitted that her reaction wasn’t entirely about what I said, and there was something deeper at play. She’s probably already on her way back to San Jose to finish that surgery the little girl's counting on.

I check my watch. Dani said her flight leaves in two hours, which means my Pulse's likely already long gone. Knowing her, she’d want to head out as soon as she could to get settled before the procedure in a few days. Probably go through everything that went wrong the first time and getting some practice in before the big day. I guarantee she's spiraling, overthinking every cut and doubting herself when she shouldn’t.

I pull my phone from my pocket for what has to be the thousandth time, even though I know there won’t be anything there. We don’t text. We never have. I don’t know whether that’s because she didn’t want that from me, or because she took me at my word the first time that I told her I hated texting. That I’d rather look someone in the eye and be holding them to say what matters instead of risk saying the wrong thing.

I check my messages anyway. Surprisingly, the screen isn’t blank. There’s a text message from her. Sent thirty minutes ago.

I open it nervously.

Catalina: You rode well tonight.

I smile wide. In Catalina-language, that means she was paying attention. That she still cares about me. That she’s proud of me. I text her back instantly.

Jensen: Thank you. I’m glad you watched. I miss you.

It goes to read immediately, but she doesn’t reply. That’s all right. I’m just glad she was thinking about me.

I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find when I went to her office before my ride. A sign that she still cared, maybe. Forgiveness. Reassurance that we weren’t done. I think I’d gotten something better than that. I saw change in Catalina. I saw perspective. And I saw her giving me a chance while being at war with her own feelings and fears. I feel a lot better now.

She said she wasn’t going back to her ex. She said she could forgive me. She also said she knows I wasn't completely to blame for what happened. And that’s enough for now. I just hope it doesn’t take as long as I told her it might. Because damn… I don’t know how I’m supposed to make it through the next few months without her.

“So,” Micah says, breaking into my thoughts, “you really staying behind instead of leaving with us tonight?”

“Yeah,” I answer, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Figured I’d grab some tips from Hayes in Whitewood Creek before I fly out to San Diego. He wanted to show me around the farm he and his wife own.”

“Tips?” He chuckles. “Man, you’re riding better than he ever did.”