Always Enough (Meet Me in Montana 2)

Before I had a chance to respond, Kaylee picked up the phone and hit a button. “I’d like to order room service.”

After ordering pizza and a few drinks, Kaylee hung up the phone, kicked off her boots, and looked at me.

I motioned for her to sit on the bed, and she lifted a brow, a sexy smirk on her face.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself, for now . . . I just want you near me. Please.”

She climbed onto the bed, sitting with her legs tucked under her.

“Do you have a headache?” she asked, noticing me rubbing at my temples again.

“A slight one, but it’s fine.”

“Okay. Let’s talk, Ty.”

I nodded, took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “When I was on the Unleash the Beast Tour, the only thing on my mind was bulls, being number one, and the occasional hookup. I won’t lie and say I was a good little boy who went to his room every night. I wasn’t. I guess that much is obvious, considering what we’re dealing with right now with Katy and Olivia.”

She frowned and looked down at her fingernails. Okay, so that was more of a sore subject than she was letting on.

“I knew someday I would settle down, get married, and have a kid or two. It wasn’t something I thought a whole lot about, because honestly, I never once met a woman who made me feel like I was in a hurry for it. There were moments I felt lonely. When we’d go home and I’d see Brock with Blayze was when it would really hit me. I remember some nights, I’d lie in bed and pray for God to send someone my way. Someone who’d make me feel something. I knew my folks wanted that for me as well. It was hard for Mom to have both me and Brock out on the road. Then when Beck died, she closed up a little. That might be where Brock and I got it from.”

I shrugged. “Anyway, I was happy as long as I could climb onto the back of a bull. Then the accident happened, and I never felt lonelier. For so many years, women had flocked to me because I was a bull rider; companies wanted me to sell their stuff because I was good at what I did. I was something more than just some cowboy who worked on his daddy’s cattle ranch. It was the only thing I thought I was good at—and I was damn good at it. I poured everything into bull riding and the sport. I lost a part of myself after the accident. A big part. I felt like I was useless.”

She shook her head, but I kept talking.

“A feeling of dread, for lack of a better word, settled inside of me. Heavy on my chest. I was in a fog. Unsure of what my future was going to be, and honestly, I didn’t really give two shits.

“Then things went from bad to worse. I was told I wouldn’t be able to ride bulls ever again and that the healing process of my leg was going to be long and painful. So I pushed myself, hard. Did everything the physical therapist told me to do and then some. The surgeries sucked, the pain was bad, but I thought I’d be able to handle it. Hell, I’d had broken bones and climbed onto the back of a bull before and rode a full eight seconds, so a leg surgery was going to be nothing.”

I paused, taking a minute to calm my heart, which had begun to race some at the memories.

“The pain wasn’t worse than anything I’d ever experienced before. The difference was, I didn’t have a purpose. I wasn’t trying to be the best bull rider in the world. When I knew I was getting onto a bull, the pain sort of just went away. I dealt with it. I think it was because I didn’t have time to think about it. But with the pain after the accident and the surgeries . . . all I had was time. Alone. I’d sit there for hours and feel the pain course through my leg. I couldn’t figure out why this pain was so different from the other broken bones and injuries I’d had over the years, and believe me, I’d had a lot.

“One day, I popped a couple of the pain pills the doctor had given me, and they numbed the pain. Then I learned if I mixed the pills with beer, I felt even better. They numbed the pain not only in my leg but my chest and in my head as well. I got to escape for a little bit from the buzz. The more I took, the deeper into the darkness I felt myself slipping, but for a while, I felt safe there.”