Falling for You

“So, how long are you here for?”

“Um. Just the night, I guess.”

Josh frowns and shakes his head. “You’re going back to Georgia tomorrow? That sucks.”

If I could, I’d never go back to Georgia. I love my family, but they’re too much to take right now with me being a huge disappointment by not marrying their hand picked trust fund kid right out of high school. I know I need to return home for Christmas, but unless I absolutely have to, I’m not going back early.

I smirk, keeping the secret that I moved to Florida a few months ago to myself. “It does?”

“Yeah. I mean, it seems like every time I finally get to see you, you’ve got one foot out the door. It would be nice to spend some time with you.”

“Really?” I take the hair-tie off my wrist and pull my locks up into a ponytail. Having my hair off my neck feels better. Cooler. Lord knows I need to cool off.

“Well, yeah. You’re not like the girls around here.”

“You don’t know what I’m like.” I sit back again and look Josh in the eyes. “You don’t know me.”

“True.” He shifts, angling to face me better. He’s got this look, one that says he wants to touch me, but I’ve taken his chance away by pulling up my hair. “I'd like to though. What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

I don’t know. I don’t even know for certain where I’m staying tonight. I assume with Hattie since she drove me here, but we never talked about it, or how I’m getting home. Now that I think about things, I’m essentially stranded in a strange town with nothing but my phone, ID, and a debit card that barely has enough money on it for a McDonalds’ meal.

I swallow hard and push all of that aside. Everything will work out. It has to. “After lunch, I think. Hattie drove me here tonight, so I’m kind of at her mercy.”

Josh grins and my heart flutters faster. He has a strong jaw-line, making his smile breathtaking. “Hattie will sleep until noon after a night like tonight. Do you want to hang out in the morning, before you leave?”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

The radio’s playing, warding away any lingering awkwardness as Layla and I ride in near silence. My stomach is in knots. I don’t get worked up over girls, but I also don’t pick them up for a day-date. Not that this could be called a date, but I’m hoping to get there.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. My mind ran through a dozen scenarios for what to do this morning. When I asked Layla to hang out today, I hoped she’d say yes, but figured she’d shoot me down. Never in a million years did I think I’d get two days with her.

When the light turns red, I lift the center console, eliminating the barrier between us. Layla looks at me, the corners of her mouth turning up, as she slides into the newly-created middle seat.

“So,” she starts, breaking the ice. “You’re a bull rider?”

“You remember that?” I fight a smile, both amused and horrified. To say that wasn’t my finest moment is an understatement. “I was, but I quit when I accepted a spot on UCF’s football team a few years back. All it takes is one bad bull to fuck up your day, but then my brother said he was leaving for medical school and, well, you know the rest.”

“I don’t understand. What does he have to do with anything?”

“Someone needed to stay behind and help Paw with the ranch. I drew the short straw, so to speak.”

Layla chews on her bottom lip, mulling over my words. I don’t tell her about how the last bull I rode bucked me off and almost snapped my neck. I had two hairline fractures on my spine, a major concussion, and a headache that lasted for weeks. I didn’t need the doctors to tell me how lucky I was, or how stupid it would be to climb onto that beast again.

“If you’re not a bull rider, then why did you use that line on me?”

“Because.” I smirk. This chick got under my skin. In one day, she managed to do what girls have been trying to do for years: spark my interest. She took over my mind, weaseled her way into my thoughts, and gave me a dose of metaphorical blue balls I wasn’t ready for. Sitting next to her, I feel it again. That spark of interest. “If I wanted to ride a bull again, I could. Besides, that line’s never let me down before.”

“It didn’t work on me. I guess it’s not a sure thing anymore.” She snickers.

I shake my head. The girl’s got balls, I like it. “I guess not. What time are you flying back to Georgia tomorrow?”

Layla turns her head toward the window again and bites the corner of her lip. She’s fighting a smile and it’s hot as hell. “Who said I was going back to Georgia?”

My heart picks up speed, pounding like a conga drum in my chest. “You did. Last night.”

She looks at me, letting that lip slip from between her teeth, unable to fight her grin any longer. “Did I, though?”

“If you’re not flying back to Georgia tomorrow, where are you going?”