Thrown: Studs in Spurs, Book 6 (7 page)

Good God, Aaron had been listening? “Aaron, can we please not talk about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something a guy should talk about.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “You’ve been traveling with me and the other guys for how many years now? You know damn well we talk about it.”

“That’s them talking. Not me.”

Aaron shook his head. “I have never met anyone as squeaky clean as you in my life. I swear.”

“I am not squeaky clean.” That Skeeter had done all he had with Tammy proved he wasn’t.

“Relax, Skeets. It’s not an insult. You’re just…different.”

“I’m not that different.” Skeeter’s brows drew low.

“Yeah, buddy. You are.” Aaron slapped him on the back. “I’m starving. You wanna hit up the diner next door?”

Since Skeeter hadn’t gotten to finish his meal before Aaron had arrived with the girls, he was hungry too. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Aaron reached for the doorknob but paused, glancing back at Skeeter. “Tell me you at least had a good time.”

“Yes, I had a good time.” His cheeks heated at the admission.

“Okay.” Aaron nodded. “Come on. I’ll buy.”

They walked next door and found the place hopping. No surprise there. Bull riders liked to eat. And fans liked to follow bull riders around.

Skeeter’s gaze swept the diner, looking to see if Tammy and Robin happened to be there. He didn’t want any smirks from Aaron or any of the other guys should Tammy come running up to him and kiss him or something.

This was why he didn’t like the quick hook-up thing. It seemed fun during, but not so much afterward. Skeeter wasn’t the love ’em and leave ’em type. He was no good at it. Too bad he’d let his misery, as well as his hormones and peer pressure from Aaron, get the best of him tonight.

The coast was clear of the girls, but not of the guys. Now Skeeter could worry about something new—all the sympathy and pity he’d see in the other riders’ eyes when they tried to tell him it was all right he’d gotten thrown off the circuit.

The disappointment in himself, in his performance, came back full force. He’d forgotten about it for a bit with the distraction that was Tammy—not to mention Aaron and Robin—but it was back now. He should have stayed in the room and hid. Let Aaron come by himself to eat.

“Hey! Come on over. There’s room.” Garret stood and waved to them from across the diner.

Garret and Chase had roomed together for this event. Even though Garret was Aaron’s brother-in-law since he’d married Aaron’s sister, Silver, they’d decided it would be smartest if the two single guys roomed together. That had sure been the right call. There’s no way Garret would have lain there quietly in the dark all alone while Aaron got busy in the next bed.

The table was packed with riders, both veterans and the younger guys Skeeter hung out with. Slade, Mustang, Chase, Garret—yup, every one of them had watched him fail tonight. Skeeter should have just gone to sleep.

“I was wondering where you two were.” Chase stood and eyed the empty couple of chairs at a table set for four that only had two people at it. “These taken?”

The guy shook his head. “Nope. All yours.”

“Thanks.” Chase shoved the chairs toward their table.

Aaron grabbed one and grinned. “We were uh,
entertaining
a couple of ladies in our room for a while. But I got hungry.”

Chase and Garret grinned right along with him, while Skeeter felt his face flush.

“Yup. I remember those days.” Slade smiled and shook his head.

Mustang let out a snort. “I remember them too. That’s something you used to do. Finish with ’em, kick ’em out and then go get food.”

Slade rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Don’t matter anymore anyway. Those days are long gone for the rest of us.” Slade tipped his head to indicate the four taken men at the table.

“That they are.” Mustang nodded. “But good to see we’ve passed the torch to these two.”

“Skeeter and I will gladly accept that torch and carry it proudly.” Aaron grinned.

Aaron had been right when he’d said talk about women was the norm with these guys. It had never bothered Skeeter until now, when he was the subject of the talk. “Come on, Aaron. It wasn’t like that.”

“You wanna explain how it was then?” Aaron’s brows rose as he shot Skeeter a look. It was a look that said it was best to let this topic of conversation go and move on. Skeeter couldn’t agree more.

The only thing worse than having Aaron know about his lack of experience would be for these guys to know it too. Skeeter planted his ass in the chair. “No.”

“So, what did y’all eat? What’s good?” Aaron asked. “I’m starving.”

Garret let out a snort. “No surprise. Sex’ll work up an appetite in a man.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Aaron laughed.

“The fries here are kick ass.” Chase reached for one of the few fries remaining on the platter in the middle of the table.

More than happy to have the subject move to food rather than sex, which was all Aaron seemed to have on the brain lately, Skeeter pulled his chair closer to the table. He reached out and grabbed the menu stuck between the ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers. “Sounds good to me. I could go for some fries. Or maybe some chili cheese fries.”

Slade groaned. “Go for it, kid. You’re still young, but gone are the days I can eat chili right before bed. I’d be up popping antacids like candy all night long.”

Mustang let out a laugh. “That’s funny, because Riley was just in here picking up exactly that. Chili and antacids for the drive home with Butch.”

Riley’s name caught Skeeter’s attention. He flashed back to Riley and how sweet though humiliating it had been that she’d come back to talk to him tonight.

The talk turned to bulls, Butch’s bulls in particular, which kept thoughts of Riley in the forefront of Skeeter’s mind. He wouldn’t be seeing her on this circuit for a while, if ever, but she had given him her number and said he should text.

Had she meant it? More importantly, did he really want her seeing him, probably still riding like crap if the last nine outs were any indication, while down in the touring pros after he’d been in the big leagues? He’d have to decide later if he’d text her or not.

Maybe things would look brighter in the morning. He could hope. Skeeter drew in a big breath and let it out in a sigh.

Mustang didn’t miss the action. His gaze zeroed in on Skeeter. “I know how you’re feeling.”

“You’ve been kicked off the tour?” Skeeter asked.

“No. But you know I was on the injured list for a few months. Felt like an eternity. It’ll be all right. You’ll be back.”

Skeeter let out another big breath. He’d been out on the injured list himself, but that had felt different than this.

Realizing the rest of the guys had gone quiet as Mustang spoke, Skeeter wished they’d change the subject. Go back to talking about sex or french fries. Anything so that he wasn’t the center of attention.

Slade slurped from a straw in a cup that looked like it contained mostly ice and then planted the hard plastic back on the table. “It’s consistency, kid. You don’t have to make every one a ninety-point ride. But you do have to ride every one. It all adds up. Get it?”

He was right, but it didn’t mean Slade’s lecture would reach from Skeeter’s brain all the way down to his spurs. Though it needed to. Bull riding was a mental game, yes, but it was also a full-body sport. Lately, Skeeter’s body parts hadn’t exactly been working as a team.

“Yes, sir.”

“Jesus, stop calling me sir.” Slade shook his head. “I’m not that much older than you are.”

“Eh, sure you are.” Mustang grinned at Slade.

“I think you need to train.” Chase joined the conversation, which seemed to have become more of a lecture for Skeeter’s benefit. Bull Riding 101. “Put together a workout to strengthen your core. That’s what helps you keep your balance on the back of a bull. Good strong core muscles. And not just sit-ups, I’m talking Pilates too.”

“Cowboy Pilates? Yeah, all right. Get right on that, Skeets.” Garret laughed.

Chase cocked a brow at his friend. “Hey, we’re way more than cowboys. We’re professional athletes.”

“That’s true.” Aaron nodded. “And I’ve heard of football players taking ballet classes to help their game.”

“Oh, yeah? Which football player took ballet?” Garret asked.

Slade snorted out a laugh. “And had the balls to admit it?”

“I don’t know. One of those famous guys. Anyway, that’s not the point.” Aaron frowned at his brother-in-law.

“Then what is the point?” Garret asked.

“Eh, shut up.” Aaron turned in his chair to glance at the counter. “Where’s the waitress?”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Anyway, back to what I was saying. We have to keep in top physical condition even if we are only working in our sport for eight seconds at a time.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll try anything. I’ll take ballet or Pilates or whatever damn thing I have to to knock myself out of this slump. But I’m not sure any of that is going to work.” For the first time in his life, Skeeter was truly scared.

If he wasn’t a bull rider, what was he? For a decade, reaching this level of competition had been his sole goal. The one thing he’d worked toward. If it were all over, what would he do? Who would he be?

Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry for those fries after all.

“Skeets, look at me.” Mustang leaned forward, focusing on Skeeter.

He raised his eyes to meet Mustang’s intense stare. “Yeah?”

“We’ll help you.”

“How?”

“We’re not that spread out. Slade and I are in Texas. Chase is in Oklahoma. You’re in Arkansas. Look at a map. We’re all close by. Right there to help you.”

“And we’re all on a break for the next few weeks,” Chase added. “We can work out together.”

Garret made a face. “That’s all well and good for you all, but Aaron and I will be in North Carolina.”

“Then you’ll just have to come to us. We outnumber you and there’s more places to ride out by us,” Chase pointed out.

He was a good friend, but Skeeter didn’t need their pity. Their pity made him not want their help. And to make Garret leave home and his wife in North Carolina to come help him work out was crazy.

He had to stop this plan of theirs before it went any further. “No. It’s fine, guys. I’ll be okay on my own.”

“What are you going to do to fix this?” Mustang asked the question Skeeter had asked himself a hundred times. This time, he had a possible answer.

“I figured I’d look up my old bull-riding teacher, Cooper Holbrook. He’s still in town. He was the first guy to put me up on a bull. Said I was a natural.” It was a good memory. One he’d always have, no matter what happened.

“I don’t know about that, kid.” Slade shook his head. “You know what happened with Cooper, don’t ya?”

“No, what happened?” Skeeter frowned. His mother had just seen Cooper’s truck in town. How could anything have happened to him?

“I heard he gave up teaching. Even totally got rid of all his stock. Took up drinking instead.”

Skeeter’s eyes widened at that revelation. “Why? He was so good at teaching.”

“Not exactly sure. I heard something happened with his partner he couldn’t get over.” Slade shrugged.

This news was more than Skeeter could handle. But it sounded too unbelievable anyway. There were always rumors in this business. The better the rider, the worse the talk. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. And he’d make a point to visit Cooper’s place as soon as he got home.

So deep in his own head, Skeeter barely listened as the conversation continued around him.

“If we do all try to get together, the thing we have to consider is where would we ride?” Chase looked from one guy to another. “We need a stock contractor willing to let us get on some practice bulls.”

“And someplace that either has room for us to camp out there, or a cheap hotel nearby since it seems some of us will be traveling a distance.” Garret staring pointedly at Skeeter made him feel even more guilty they were all changing their plans for this break just to help him.

“You guys don’t have to do—”

“Shut up. We’re doing it.” Aaron cut Skeeter off. “Now let’s think. Who’s in the area who’s got decent bucking bulls and would be willing to let us get on them?”

“Butch Davis’s place is in western Mississippi. That’s pretty central.”

The mention of Butch’s place made Skeeter pay more attention. Riley would be there, which would be no hardship. But so would Butch, and his glare alone could scare the hell out of Skeeter and most of the other guys. He couldn’t even imagine asking the guy for a favor, such as if a bunch of guys could just practice on his prize-winning buckers.

Skeeter decided he better say something before one of these nut cases whipped out a cell phone and called to ask him. “Butch is a big-time contractor. I mean, he’s raised seven out of the last ten bulls of the year. He wouldn’t let us just come there and hop on them.”

“Sure, he will.” Mustang let out a snort. “Maybe he won’t let us get on Renegade. That bull’s worth too much and he can’t risk him getting injured in the practice pen, but some of the younger stock? The green ones he’s hoping to put in competition in a year or two, hell yeah. He probably can’t find enough riders to take ’em out for a spin.”