Country Music Song-Fics

I Hate Cowboys- Chase Rice

A/N: I heard this song yesterday and loved it, but writing a story to it never crossed my mind until I was talking to BlaneysBabyGirl12  I told her to give me a song and I was going to write something to break out of this slump. Thank you Mandy!!! ❤️❤️❤️

"Yeah. Hit me again." I muttered to the bartender and he slid another Maker's in front of me. I held up the glass for a moment, swirling the amber liquid a bit, watching it catch the light before tossing it back. The burn down my throat and into the pit of my stomach in no way compared to the burning sting surrounding my heart. This wasn't at all how I planned on spending my evening, but what the hell else is there to do after getting dumped? I didn't know if it was possible to drink her away, but I was damn sure gonna try.

I can't even say for certain that Sophia was "the one", but she had to be, otherwise, it wouldn't hurt like this. Would it?

Nine months. Nine fucking months I gave her everything. More than I thought I was capable of, and for what? Nine months may not sound like much to most, but for me, it's practically a lifetime.

Nine months, and all it took was one look and a smile from him and she was gone like the wind. A fucking bull rider of all things. So he can do something for 8 seconds. Big fucking deal. 8 seconds isn't that long. That's probably about as long as he can last in the sack too. I thought bitterly.

I was so lost into wallowing in my own self pity that I didn't even realize the barstool next to me was now occupied. Not until I heard the smooth, silky voice that was a combination of velvet and smoke, if there's even such a thing, ask the bartender for a shot of tequila.

I turned my head and stared at her profile: honey blonde hair fell like a satin curtain over her shoulder. She had fair skin, a classic straight nose and impossibly long eyelashes that fanned out over her high cheekbones. Talk about a smoke show.

As if she felt me staring, I could see her jaw clench and she swallowed a couple of times.

"Are you a cowboy?" She asked, finally turning to look at me. Her expression was one of slight contempt, but there was nothing but sadness in the depths of her blue eyes.

I couldn't help but snort at her comment. "Hell no. I hate cowboys. Why? Do I look like a fucking cowboy?"

She shrugged. "No. Not really, but you kinda sound like one. I hate cowboys too. Did anyone ever tell them that their hats look so stupid and they think a belt buckle the size of Texas is gonna draw attention to their package, which is just as inflated as their ego."

I couldn't help but snicker, but then I caught a look at her expression, and she looked anything but amused.

"Wow. Who hurt you?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Why do you hate cowboys?" She gave me a pointed look, ignoring my question.

"They think they're scared of nothin'
They run their mouths about bulls buckin'. They think that they're John Wayne walkin' through the door and won't hesitate to ask your girl to dance even though you're sittin' right there at the damn bar. Next thing you know, she's gone and you're left there with a broken heart." I rambled, then took a swallow of my drink, realizing I just unloaded on a complete stranger, albeit a very pretty stranger.

"You're right about that for damn sure, except you left out the part about the cowboy leaving his girl sitting at the bar while he runs after yet another damn buckle bunny right under his girls nose." She fumed, and at that moment I felt an instant connection to this beautiful stranger. It was almost like we were kindred spirits destined to meet. Our fates aligned by a common enemy: cowboys.