I didn’t deserve her, but I didn’t need the reminder of what she deserved every time my best friend recapped a date with me. Jesse and Josie took a few years before they made things “official,” but I don’t know what took them so long. That freshman homecoming dance made it obvious to me and everyone else that Josie was Jesse’s and vice versa.
Those were the memories haunting my dreams the past couple of weeks I’d spent with Josie. Those were the images that flashed through my mind while I held her every night. We took turns sneaking into each other’s bedrooms, and so far, her parents were none the wiser. I’d managed to be a good boy and do nothing but hold her. Okay, once I’d barely brushed her chest. But it was just barely and only once. Keeping my hands, dick, and everything in between to myself was like earning sainthood. At least in my book. I had yet to learn if it had earned it in Josie’s, but I hoped she’d give me some sort of progress report. Soon. I was keeping myself together with frequent cold showers and just as frequent self-servicing sessions, but a man could only take so many showers and so much jerking off before he lost his mind.
I was maybe one or two of either away from losing mine.
Last night’s dream was that first homecoming dance. Josie had been there with Jesse, and I was there with some girl whose name or face I couldn’t even remember. Probably because I’d barely looked at her the whole night. My gaze stayed on Josie. Her smile for Jesse, the pretty blue dress she wore for him too, and the way her arms wrapped around his neck and her hips swayed softly when they slow danced. Every time her gaze shifted my way and she smiled at me, it took everything inside of me to stay where I was and not pry her out of Jesse’s arms. Not taking what I wanted when I wanted it went against everything I’d known, but I knew, even back then, that Josie deserved more. So I’d stayed with my date and felt like I was losing a little bit of myself every time Josie danced with Jesse. Every song took her that much farther out of my reach.
The dance had been almost over, the music ending and couples trickling out of the gymnasium. My date was making out in the corner with some guy—not that I cared—and Jesse had just left Josie’s side to head to the bathroom, and I saw my opportunity. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I’d realized that, from then on, I’d only have Josie in stolen, fleeting moments.
Before I’d made up my mind, I was heading her way. She was leaning into the bleachers, waiting for Jesse. I realized that I’d give everything to have her one day waiting for me like she was him. I made a quick stop at the DJ’s, begged him to play one last special request, and once he’d reluctantly agreed, I went to Josie. I didn’t say a word; I don’t think I even smiled. All I did was grab her hands and pull her back onto the gym floor as Garth Brooks’ “The Dance” started to play.
“What are you doing, Garth?” she’d asked, giving me a careful but a genuine smile.
“Stealing you away,” I’d replied.
“Jesse’s coming right back.” She’d sounded like she was putting up an argument for why the whole last dance thing wasn’t a good idea, but her body wasn’t. She kept coming with me, her hands planted in mine.
When we’d reached the middle of the floor, I drew her close and looked her in the eyes. “Finders keepers.”
That night, that dance, that girl . . . had messed me up something fierce. In good ways, but mostly in bad ways. I had to watch the girl I’d grown up wanting be happy and in love with my best friend. The three of us still hung out, but nothing was the same after that dance. For Jesse and Josie, for Jesse and me, and for Josie and me as well. Everything changed in one night, and all I remember thinking was how badly I wanted to go back in time to the first time I set eyes on her on that bus and blurt, Choose me. Be mine. I know we’re only in kindergarten, but promise you’ll go with me to Homecoming our freshman year. Be happy and find love with me.
Those were the thoughts I was lost in when the chute flew open. Bluebell threw me with his first buck out of the gate. At least when I hit the ground, it was on my left side. My right side had already taken so many blows, I would be black and blue. I muttered a curse, sat up, and threw my hat. I’d gone from staying on four seconds last month to barely staying on two this month. Eight seconds of glory was not my friend.
“You spend any more time rolling in the dirt, and you’re going to turn into a pig,” Jason hollered from his perch on the fence.
I wanted to introduce him and his smiling pretty-boy face to my left hook, but I’d worked too hard lately to ruin it. Jason wasn’t worth it. Since I couldn’t let my fists do the talking, I let my talking take the jabs. “I thought your mom and sister already told you—I am a pig.” I lifted a brow and grinned cockily.
Shooting me a scowl, Jason leapt down and followed the other guys leaving the arena. “Excuse us, Black. The real bull riders are going to get a few drinks before getting laid.”
“Just so you know,” I hollered after him while standing, “your hand and imagination don’t qualify as getting laid!”
I knew he heard me, but he didn’t reply. Probably because I was right. That guy was getting laid about as frequently as I was lately. Which was a whole lotta nada. When I’d told Jesse how long I’d gone without sex after promising him I was up to the task—mostly—of being his best man, he was silent for a whole ten seconds before breaking into a fit of laughter that went another ten seconds. I guess me going weeks without getting laid was one of the funniest things he’d ever heard, but I wasn’t laughing. Neither was my dick.
“You want me to fetch you a bandage? Maybe an aspirin? A tissue?” Will crossed the arena, shaking his head. “It looks like you need all three, but all I really want to give you is a swift kick in the ass.”
“Your damn bull’s inflicted enough damage, so it’s only fair you have a go at me, too. Take your best shot.” I patted my ass at Will.
“As much as I’d love to kick it, I’d rather see that ass of yours stay on a bull for a whole eight seconds. Hell, I’d settle for the old four-second routine you had going a few weeks back.”
“And I’m paying you good money why? Coach,” I added with some sarcasm.
“To make what used to be a good bull rider into a fucking great one.”
“Hoorah,” I grumbled with a weak salute. I’d been a decent bull rider, but I wasn’t anywhere close to “good” anymore. If Will thought “great” was even an option for me, he’d been knocked in the head too many times.
“Son, you can be as big a smart-ass as you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you came to me because you know I can help you be better.” I dusted myself off and lifted my eyebrows. Will chuckled. “Well, and you came to me because, in my day, I was one of the best. You don’t become the best without learning from one of them, right?”
“It seems the only title I’m capable of winning after training with the best is ‘the worst.’”
Will seldom found my humor funny. And by seldom, I meant never. His face ironed out. “Any time you’re ready to shut up and let me do what you’re paying me to do, I’m ready.” I clamped my mouth shut and waited. “You’re one hell of a rider. That’s as obvious as it is that you’ve convinced yourself you’re not. You come from good stock. Your daddy and his daddy before him were championship riders until a couple of accidents and a whole hell of a lot of booze got in their ways.”
“Thank you for bringing up the family tree. Always a thrill hearing about the line of assholes I came from.”
Will stuck his finger into my chest and then my face. “The point I’m trying to get through your thick head is that you’ve got bull riding in your blood. That’s a point in your corner these others pretenders would sell their soul for.” After tapping me a few more times, he leaned back a bit. “But that’s not where your talent stops. You’re a hard worker, and you’ve got an intuition that few people in this sport have. I saw you ride back when you used to still be on top of that bull when the buzzer went off. You moved before the bull did every time, like you knew exactly what that animal would do a split second before he did. You have the intuition. You’ve got the golden ticket. It’s a hell of a shame you seem to have lost it.”