Phoenix Rising

Way to misread the situation, Phee.

I blinked back tears, standing up and slapping twenty dollars on the bar.

Then I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

"Phoenyx!"

I could hear him behind me, stomping in those big boots of his, but I didn't stop. I ran down main street, cursing him with every step.

He called my name several times but I didn't look back. Eventually the footsteps fell away. I stomped home, wishing I hadn't drank or tried to flirt with him. Wishing I'd never laid eyes on Clint McRae.

So what if my riding was better than ever? I didn’t care. I’d fallen for the bastard and made a damned fool of myself in the process.

It was only my second year in real competition. I'd already been booked for horse shows all over the country. I was already good. Clint had made me even better.

I was going to win a lot of competitions this year. Maybe even the National Championship.

What the hell did I need him for?

JJ had hired him, that's why. He was my mentor and had been guiding my career since the beginning. He was the reason I had more sponsorships than any other trick rider in the world.

He was more than my attorney. He was kind of like a father to me growing up. He never missed a birthday or Christmas. He had always been so good to me.

I couldn't let him down.

Maybe if I just ignored Clint… took his advice and that was it. Maybe if I actually won the Championship I could live down the humiliation of this night.

But that was months away.

And it sure as shit didn't solve my current dilemna. I couldn’t imagine having to face him the next day. I couldn’t imagine having to face that smug face, knowing that he knew I liked him. More than liked. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide.

I kicked off my boots and stomped into my bathroom, turning on the shiny faucet over the soaking tub. I scowled, sniffing my favorite bath soak without enjoyment. Even that was ruined for me.

I sat on the edge of the tub, utterly dejected.

He didn't like the way I looked.

I hadn't dated much. Or at all really. But I knew that I was cute enough. Wasn't I?

Back in high school the boys had been too afraid of my cousins to mess with me. The Delancey brothers were protective of me since the day I was born. Never mind their tendency to hit first and ask questions later.

Yep, they were brawlers and had warned off all the boys in a fifty-mile radius back home. Same in the equestrian world, which were the only other men I knew. But I still got male attention.

Just… from a distance.

I sighed, peeling off my clothes. Maybe I didn't dress fancy enough. Or show enough skin. Maybe my inexperience was the issue.

Or maybe he really just didn't like the way I looked.

I peeled off my clothes, sneaking a look at myself in the mirror. I might be a little curvy, but men liked that, right? Or was he the sort who liked his ladies stick thin?

I shook my head. It didn't matter what he liked. I wasn't it for him. I'd just have to accept that and move on.

I sank into the bubbles, feeling the tension finally slide off my shoulders.

Then I sat up. What if Clint quit? As humiliating as it was, I definitely wanted to see him again. I would be heartbroken if he disappeared on me. Walked out of my life…

But no. I had to be strong. I was a woman, not a washcloth.

If Clint didn't want to be my trainer, I'd find someone else who would. As picky as I was, I was feeling more inclined to throw caution to the wind. I wasn't going to offer up my V card to the nearest passing stranger, but I was going to get some action. Practice my flirting at least.

Maybe I'd get a date on a Friday night once in a while, instead of ordering in and watching TV in my pajamas. Yep, my cousin's ban on dating was long over. I was going to get myself a man or two. Maybe more.

Come hell or high water.

Better yet, I was going to show Clint I didn't give a damn what he thought of me.

In the ring, or out of it.

Chapter Eleven

Clint

"Turn. Alright let's try the basic vaults again."

Phoenyx didn't respond or even glance my way, though she guided her horse through the motions as I directed. Her body whipped to the ground and back into the saddle. She was stiff, with perfect form.

Too stiff.

She hadn't said a word to me all day. Or looked at me once.

I sighed, realizing I'd hurt her feelings the night before when I said that everything about her was wrong. She hadn't understood what I meant at all. And now both of us were suffering for it.