Rough Stock (Lost Creek Rodeo #3) - Heather B. Moore Page 0,1

begun to develop anxiety about going to class. Not the normal stress of any other college student, but anxiety so crippling that some days, she stayed in her dorm all day.

Fortunately, she had her own private bedroom, and her roommates didn’t much care if she was coming or going. They were caught up in their dating drama.

Speaking of dating . . .

Silvia slipped her phone out of her clutch to see that Darren had texted a few minutes ago. She hid a smile, since Axel was talking about how a twelve-year-old girl had gotten out of a bad home situation, and now played on a top club basketball team. It would look rude to be smiling during that story.

Hey babe, I got off work early. Can you meet up?

Her pulse thrummed at the invitation. Darren had finally started paying attention to her. He’d dated one of her roommates a few weeks back, but things were over between them now. Still, they had to keep their relationship on the down low.

I’m at a charity thing with my brother, and he’s my ride.

The three dots on the text app danced for a few seconds.

Need a getaway car?

Her heart slammed into her chest. Should she? Did she dare?

I’d love one.

Send me a pin, babe.

She sent the pin just as she heard her brother say, “And one of our volunteers at the office is here tonight. My sister. Silvia, will you come up and say a few words?”

Heads turned, necks craned, and people started to clap.

Silvia felt her heart drop to her stomach. Yeah, she volunteered once a week at Sports for Kids, but so did a lot of people. Axel had not warned her about this, and he knew how much she hated the limelight.

With trembling hands and an ultra-fake smile, she slipped her phone into her clutch. The last thing she wanted was for Brighton to see any texts from Darren. Another sore point with her brother and his wife. They were both freaks about who she did and did not date. Just because Axel had been known as “Cold Axe” before he met Brighton didn’t mean Silvia had to stay home on the weekends.

The clapping increased, and Axel was waiting for her, his winning smile somehow not making her feel any better.

Silvia couldn’t very well pause to put on her shoes—everyone was watching her now. Hundreds of eyes. Well, maybe two hundred pairs. But that was a lot. Really, a lot.

Brighton nudged her. “They’re waiting for you, Silv.”

Silvia swallowed, her throat feeling like the Sahara Desert. They were waiting for her. And they were still looking at her. Clapping. Smiling.

Her gaze connected with another man across the table. Grizz. One of Axel’s best friends and former teammate at Belltown. Grizz was currently the all-time best catcher in the MLB, and his wife Rachel was next to him, all smiles. She’d been one of the top dancers in Chicago, and now she had her own studio, in addition to an adorable brood of three kids. No losers at this table. Except for maybe Silvia herself.

But Grizz wasn’t smiling. His gaze was intent on her, his brow furrowed, his expression . . . concerned.

Could he tell she was about to have a panic attack?

No, no one could tell, because she wasn’t going to have one. She was going to walk to the stage like a normal person, deliver a dazzling speech about how her life had been changed through her volunteer work, then escape with Darren for a fun, irresponsible night doing what twenty-something college dropouts did . . .

But she never made it to the stage.

Silvia stood and took a handful of steps before her legs turned to water. And her breath rushed out. Then the room spun.

Her last memory was of Grizz McCarthy’s deep voice as his arms circled her. “Someone call 911.”

The pro rodeo circuit was taking Westin Farr within spitting distance of Lost Creek, and he was more thrilled than a kid getting a bike for his birthday. He grinned at the rodeo event schedule on his beat-up phone as a baseball game played in the background of the truck stop he’d pulled into. A quick shower, some toothpaste against his pearly whites, and he was good to go for another day.

He glanced up at the television as the baseball crowd cheered for a double-base hit. The runner on third didn’t make it home. No. Not with Grizz McCarthy on the home bag. Not much got through that beast