Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
The “bull” was surrounded by a padded ring. But when the guy in front of me was unceremoniously thrown off after about three seconds, it didn’t sound like a particularly soft landing. The fact that he was clutching his back when he shuffled away didn’t bode well, either.
Still though, I’d said I was going to do this, and once something went on my bucket list, that meant I was committed to it. I glanced at the employee who’d sold me the ticket and said, “Eight seconds, right? That’s the goal?”
“That’s the goal on a real bull,” he explained. “Since this starts at an easy pace, a good score on a mechanical bull is fifteen seconds and up. But just have fun with it, and don’t worry too much about the time.”
“Good advice.”
I climbed onto the thing and grasped the strap in front of me with both hands, but the moment it started moving, I automatically flung one of my arms out to provide a bit of counterbalance. How was this an easy pace? As it jerked and swooped around in a circle, I tried to hold on for dear life.
Before I knew it, the thing threw me off, and I landed on my ass. I stretched out on my back and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments as I caught my breath. Kit appeared, leaning over me as he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Mostly. Please tell me that was longer than two seconds.”
He pointed at the display panel on the wall as I sat up. “Six point three-six seconds. That’s pretty good.”
“Meh.”
“Do you want to go again?”
“Nope. I’m going to call that done.” I started to leave the ring while taking a mental assessment of my new collection of aches and pains. But then I turned back to Kit, who was climbing onto the mechanical bull, and asked him, “What are you doing?”
“I wanted to give it a try, so I bought a ticket.”
He yelped at the initial jolt. That caught the attention of a group of men standing nearby, and they gathered around. When Hal yelled, “You’ve got this, Kit,” they all picked up on it, calling him by name as they cheered him on.
Kit, meanwhile, was an absolute marvel. He started laughing as the fake bull bucked and jolted, his lean body shifting instinctively in response to the motions. It wasn’t until the thing swung in a hard circle that it finally threw him.
He landed on the padding and jumped up immediately as Ryder yelled, “Seventeen seconds! That’s phenomenal for a first time!”
We whooped and applauded, and so did the group of men. When Kit joined us, a huge lumberjack type approached him and said, “Hey, sexy, can I buy you a drink?”
I bristled and went completely territorial. “I’ve got that covered,” I said, as I put my arm around Kit’s shoulders.
The flannel-clad giant held up his hands as he took a step back. “My bad, I didn’t know the little hottie was taken.”
I felt like I’d fucked up. As the guy and his friends retreated, I turned to Kit and said, “I’m sorry. I just acted like you’re my property, and that’s not cool.”
“No, don’t apologize. I’d do the same thing if someone tried to hit on you.” That was reassuring.
So was the fact that he sat on my lap when our little group found a table. We had some beers—except for Kit, who stuck with water—and chatted about random subjects, and just generally let ourselves relax. It felt good. Hal and Ryder obviously thought so, too. They were happy and upbeat and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their night out.
Sometime later, a slow song started to play. Our companions hurried to the dance floor, wrapped their arms around each other, and seemed to forget the rest of the world existed. You could practically see hearts in their eyes when they smiled at each other.
Kit got up with a grin and held out his hand. “Shall we?”
“Definitely.” He led me to the dance floor and slipped his hands around my waist, and I held him close as we swayed to the music.
After a minute, it occurred to me that I’d finished my bucket list tonight, not for the first time. When that had happened in the past, I’d added more items. There were things I could add now, things that were quick and fun and that Kit and I could do together. Learning to line dance came to mind.
But it was already mid-December. If my life was down to a matter of days, silly little distractions seemed pointless.
There was only one thing I cared about, and that was Kit. I did have some goals where he was concerned, and I’d thought about writing them on my bucket list, but that felt wrong. Taking care of him, helping him, and enjoying every moment we had together couldn’t be reduced to line items. They weren’t something to finish and check off.