𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 • 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐝

꧁ 1 ꧂

꧁☘︎︎𖢻☘︎︎꧂

𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲

I'm no stranger to fame. I've been a known name in the rodeo world since I was 14. I was a prodigy, someone predicted to burn out.

Maybe I'd have a fall, break something that can't be fixed. Maybe I'd get run over by a bull and sent into a coma. Maybe I'd end up paralysed in a wheelchair. Maybe I'd get bored.

But no. I've been in hospital with serious injuries four times since I was 14 and I am not bored.

I thrive on the attention, like I need it to live. I don't even care where I get it from as long as I have it. I can have it from my Ma or literally any of my five sisters, friends, strangers, girls, I couldn't give a single fuck as long as people are praising and loving me. My favorite? A whole arena of people hooting and cheering as I ride.

People love me because I'm still young and rich as hell. Why am I rich as hell? I forced myself to learn and take up basically any part or western and rodeo I could handle.

...Within what my Ma would willingly let me do. Me and my sisters grew up around horses and farm animals anyway, but, at 14, my mother let me join a western riding club. At 17, I said I wanted to take up bull riding. She said no but we compromised and I ended up taking up bronc riding.

I whistle, patting Mira's neck after dismounting. That's one thing I've always found with my job - you need to love your horse. Mira is my girl. My baby since I was a kid and I love her - she takes care of me, so I have to respond in kind.

"Good girl." I mutter, nodding to the guys that take her off my hands.

Then the speakers sound and my favourite part can commence.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do it!" The deep voice rings out through the arena. "Everyone's favorite rider has beaten yet another arena record with 13.41 seconds!"

Cheering erupts around me, a collection of random other riders, my friends and girls who practically have their tits out surrounding me. Multiple red solo cups of beer are already being passed over to me, along with cigarettes as I walk.

Mitch has an arm around my shoulder, talking about the afterparty already as we walk through the gate and into the main viewing area.

"Buddy, I have so many bets on you tonight. You make me a rich man every time you ride!" I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

Suddenly, the noise stops.

Every noise stops, time slows down.

All because of the sight of some blonde girl in the lower stands, watching the whole place with a curious head tilt. Pretty with a bow on the back of her head and a cute little sundress. Tits? Nowhere in sight. I didn't look away, didn't say anything, just stood there looking right at her. Everyone around me keeps talking but I'm not paying them a single mind as her eyes find mine. The girl immediately looks away once meeting my gaze and I finally snap out of my daze enough to smirk.

I start to make my way through and out of the crowd gathered around me, walking in her direction. Multiple girls try literally grabbing my arm, to make me stay and drink with them but I shrug them away, for once. I had never been so captivated.

Once close enough to her, I stopped. Stood in front of her with one hand on my belt, giving her a smirk as I looked down at her. Even as she sat down, there was an apparent height difference between us.

She really did seem innocent, just from a few looks at her. There was a shy sort of aura around her, one that made me very tempted to just break it right then and there.

"You don't come here often, do you?" Stupid question. I'd been to this arena loads of times, it was in my home state, and she was not a regular - I'd remember such a face. Soft, sweet - so unlike the other girls here.

She shakes her head, little smile on her pink painted lips. "No, sir."

Sir. That single word in her cute southern accent sent a shiver down my spine as I crossed my arms. "And how'd you end up here? Don't see a lot of pretty little things like you at rodeos."

"Uh, my brother's birthday. He loves all of this stuff." She shrugs.

"And you don't?"

"Not particularly." She says somewhat bashfully. One of her legs crosses over the other, cardigan laid over her lap. "But, uh, you're pretty cool."

I laugh at that. Poor girl probably thinks she's offended me. I couldn't care less, I have a huge crowd loving me anyway. "Thanks, doll." I shrug again, eyes trailing down her exposed shoulders. "What's your name?"

"Marley."

꧁☘︎︎𖢻☘︎︎꧂