Southern Hearts: Standalone Best Friends Brother Romance

by Emily Bowie

  I can see how coming out here calms your nerves. Listening to each of Danger’s breaths, mine sync with his. All my worries from before vanish. All that matters is him and me.

  Sitting FRONT AND CENTER of the bleachers, I watch in anticipation. Before I know it, the chute opens and I see Danger fly through the air, one of his hands gracefully up above his head, while the other is laced into the ropes, holding on like his life depends on it. Each buck of the bull, you can see his face light up, enjoying the adrenaline rush. Danger was made to do this.

  With each buck, my breath gets caught in my throat, thinking that will be the one that throws him off. The clock on the board says three seconds, and neither the bull nor Danger shows any sign of stopping. Another three seconds pass, and I’m holding onto the bleacher seat like I’m the one on the bull. How he does this week in and week out, I can’t understand. But that smile stays on his face. The buzzer goes, indicating the eight seconds is over, and Danger is able to escape the bull, jumping onto the railing before the animal decides to go after him and not the clown in the wine-barrel-like protection that covers most of his torso and legs.

  I jump up in my seat, clapping and cheering, making the fans around me stare, but I don’t care. I’m so happy for Danger.

  I head straight for the concession stand, wanting to buy Danger a celebratory sweet. The line is longer than I would like, but I know these are Danger’s favorite. My treat is placed into a thin white paper bag, grease making the thin material go see-through. Then I’m off, lightly jogging toward the entrance to watch Danger come out. Turning the corner, I come to a full halt. Ashley is there, and she and Danger are standing so close together I don’t think a dollar bill would fit between them. This girl is everywhere in my life, and I hate it. I’m trying not to hate her when she never made promises to anyone, but it’s difficult. That jealously hits me hard.

  I freeze just in time to hear their clipped tone before they both look to me. Ashley smiles sweetly at me before walking away as Danger comes to me.

  “You buy this for me?” He bends down, taking a small bite that sticks out of the bag in my hand.

  “How do you know her?” I nod in the direction Ashley left. “How did she get invited to the bachelor party?” I add, mostly talking to myself.

  I can feel Danger’s body stiffen beside me. “She used to do tricks on horses a few years ago.”

  “Did the two of you hook up frequently?”

  I can already tell this isn’t a conversation he wants to have. “No. I took her on a few dates, and we slept together once.”

  I want to believe him; he looks to be telling the truth. But then why did she stop by naked?

  “Does she normally come by your house without clothes on?”

  Sighing, he begins to move us as we walk through the grounds. “It hasn’t happened since the time you were there.” He pauses then continues, “I have never been interested in her like I am with you. I love you, Haven, and no other woman will ever change that.”

  He looks intently into my eyes, silently pleading for me to believe him, and I do.

  Sixteen

  Danger

  Haven gives me a good luck kiss at the entrance before I need to prepare for my final ride of the weekend. It’s a damn good kiss that has my dick twitching, wanting more of her, and I have no doubt the guys will be ribbing me about it later. Shit like that used to bug me, but not with Haven. I want everyone to know she’s mine.

  “Good luck,” she whispers.

  I can’t help but think how fortunate I am to have her here with me, and on a Sunday no less. “I don’t need luck,” I tell her. “I have you.”

  She laughs and playfully pats my chest. She loves me flirting with her as much as I love giving it out.

  Neither one of us mentions that today I have Blueberry Wine. Knowing the bull’s lineage and what happened to my father is the unspoken elephant in the room. I can tell she’s worried, but I’m not. I have been looking forward to the day I’m able to stare the bull right in the eye, and ride him.

  “Man, how the hell are you tapping that ass?” one of the crew asks me. Normally, I would laugh along, but this time, I want to strangle him.

  “She ain’t a piece of ass. Next time you call my girlfriend that, you won’t be able to use your arms for days.” That shuts him the hell up.

  “Danger!” my name is called, causing me to turn. I can’t see where it’s coming from because of the sea of people behind me blocking my view. Searching the crowd, I hear my name hollered again.

  My ma comes running up to me, out of breath.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” The first thing I think is something bad has happened and they need me.

  “I wanted to wish you luck. Your father and I will be cheering you on.” She hugs me then is dashing back out. Does that mean he’s here tonight? For the first time, I can feel myself begin to sweat a little.

  “You got this.” Larry slaps me on the back, encouraging me like he always does.

  I remind myself Haven is front and center. If I need to calm down, all I have to do is see her. Stepping onto the platform, I take my position on Blueberry Wine. He moves around, huffing and not liking that I’m on his back, but I feel right at home.

  With my riding glove snugged tight, I link my hand under the rope, and take a breath. “Hey, old friend,” I tell Blueberry Wine. My other hand rubs down his thick, coarse hair, and he bucks, hitting the metal sides. This may be our first encounter, but it doesn’t feel like it. This bull hates me as much as I hate him. I hate him, because he’s from the same bloodline that ruined mine and my father’s relationship. He’s the reason why my dad stopped watching me ride, stopped kissing my ma every chance he got, and stopped our family from being who we used to be.

  “This is our chance,” I mumble under my breath. Everyone important to me is in this crowd.

  Blueberry bumps around, already trying to buck me off. This will be the ride of my lifetime. Looking up, I search for Haven. She’s dead center of the front row, just like yesterday, full of smiles and cheering. Her smile is the prettiest I have ever known. I watch her turn around, waving to my parents and Frankie.

  Focusing on my breathing and the rope clinched tight with my hand wrapped around it, I begin to psych myself up for the ride. On my nod, the chute opens, and when Blueberry Wine leaps into the arena, I expect to be flung around like a rag doll. My body flies forward, my back straining backward, but it’s nothing worse than when Haven helps me practice. These moves are very uncharacteristic of Blueberry Wine. He doesn’t do his usual circle spins and leaps; with this kind of bucking I could have ridden him in my early teens. This ride is as anticlimax as a roller coaster that refuses to make your stomach flip. The bull goes up and down in a perfectly straight line.

  When the buzzer goes, I easily jump off, the bull not even caring I’m beside him. Every curse word I know comes out of my mouth. This bull is trying to kill me slowly. I already know I’ll be given a re-ride for the lame-ass one I just had. Blueberry Wine has never had a foul. This is the first in history, quite possibly in his bloodline. Maybe their line is going weak.

  As I’m walking away, I hear screams and the crowd’s hysteria. Looking back, I see the paramedics are racing toward the same seat Haven was sitting in, but all I can see is Blueberry Wine in the front row of the stands.

  Every moment of my world with Haven in it flashes before my eyes. In a matter of a second, a montage of her and me seems to slip through my fingers. Her almost falling off the church roof. When I got to sample those lips for the first time. Me beating up Aiden but denying it as I kissed her tears away. The time she came stomping up to me, to ask why I had to be so obnoxious - because I had placed a billboard ad about myself - questioning if it was because I was jealous. It had been, but I refused to admit it. The present, having her jump into my arms. Watching her surf.

  What if she can no longer walk, like my dad? What if she doesn’t make it?

  Dark s
pots fill my vision as I consider consider her life turning on a dime, becoming like my dad’s has been. Having to watch her live through what my dad’s been through. Imagining the depression, anger, and disappointment in me because all of this is my fault. If I hadn’t made her miss church, she wouldn’t be here. She would be safe with her family. I all of a sudden get it. I get what my dad has been trying to tell me. He lost everything, and I just placed that future onto the one girl I love.

  My feet wobble as I try to walk toward her. I feel hands on my shoulders, people telling me to sit down. My legs are so weak I have no other choice than to follow their guiding hands.

  “Breathe through your mouth and out through your nose.” Doing as the voice says, I try, but my eyes continue to search out my girl. With each attempted glimpse of Haven, my vision dances with dark spots, and I feel myself fade. I need to get to my girl.

  What type of man has to sit down like a pussy when his girl needs him? All I can think is how my father must be disappointed in me for putting Haven in danger, for not being strong enough to go to her, and then for allowing Blueberry Wine to win. It was like he had this planned from the start.

  The bull officially won.

  For the first time in my life, I pray. I pray to whatever higher being is up there. I hope Haven has enough hold that they grant me the one thing I need more than life itself.

  Please let her live, please let her walk again. I’m willing to trade everything I have. I’ll let her go so she can meet a nice man. No more games, no more keeping her on the line for myself. I’ll stop bull riding and actually start looking for a job. Not hope for a handout from my cousin Crash. A real job that I can learn to love one day.

  As soon as my prayer is said, I look up and see the stretcher, and I’m strong enough to stand. I wave off Larry and run to the paramedics.

  Seventeen

  Danger

  “Sir, you need to step aside!” a paramedic yells at me as I come charging over to them. The fairgrounds disappear from my view, and the only thing I see is that metal and blue stretcher. I don’t give any of the paramedics the time of day as my hands hold onto the stretcher, helping them move it. The pace is quick, moving my blood faster through my body at an alarming rate. Blood whooshes in my ears, drowning out almost all other sounds. An ambulance has already started to make its way toward us, having been on standby just in case.

  Instead of Haven’s angelic face looking up at me, it’s my father’s. Immediately, I understand. You can’t ask for something without consequences. His face is scrunched up in pain, but he makes no sound that my brain registers. The lines on his face seem deeper, and his eyes water as he controls his breathing.

  Keeping my hands on the stretcher, I look out in the crowd, searching for Haven. She was there just before my eight seconds started. The crowd is all up on their feet, everyone frozen, watching us. I look back to the group, making sure there isn’t a second stretcher being wheeled that I missed. My feet keep up as I look down at my father once again. I feel utterly helpless—one of my most hated feelings. Taking another look into the crowd, I finally see Haven and Frankie holding each other, mascara running down their faces as they stand in the middle of the stairs away from the rest of the crowd. I can’t see Ma anywhere.

  My father groans but seems to be aware of his surroundings. He tries to grasp my hand, but I’m too far down the stretcher. His cheek is bloodied, his shirt ripped. I can see dirty hoof marking on his body. There is a little bit of blood on his clothing but I can’t tell where it came from.

  “You’ll be okay, Dad,” I tell him, even though I have no clue. He’s lifted without any help from me, even though I’m still holding on to the stretcher. I’m pushed away, left standing and unable to help as they smoothly place my dad into the ambulance with no one missing a step.

  “Danger!” my ma cries. Seeing her face makes my guilt grow tenfold. I’m the reason why her life will change for the worse again. If they chose to stay home like they had all those other years, this would have never happened. But then it would be Haven and not my dad. It’s a similar fate my father cautioned me about. He’s told me so many times over the last decade that riding can change everything in your life in less than eight seconds. It can put the toughest man on their knees and never let them up again. It can blind in ways that rip relationships apart. When it comes to bull riding, everyone knows it’s when you’ll get hurt, not if you’ll get hurt. Everyone has to take their turn. It’s unfair my father has had to take mine.

  I feel my ma hug me and say something, but I can’t pay attention. My eyes are glued to my father in the ambulance once again. All the old feelings from just over a decade ago rush right back in. I’m no longer the man but the young teen in the crowd, watching helplessly as my father is dragged out of the arena. At least I don’t have to hear his screeching hollers about his leg this time. My ma gives me a peck on the cheek before jumping into the back with my dad.

  I’m guided out and am vaguely aware I’ve been told I can have a re-ride. I’m forced to laugh at myself. Before this, I was so angry about missing my opportunity to show everyone. And now, it seems pitiful that I cared that much.

  “I’m not taking it. I’m done,” I say, referring to my re-ride.

  My skin feels clammy. I can feel my nostrils flare each time I breathe, and the image of my father broken on a stretcher stays behind my eyes, even when they are open. I can’t get it out of my head no matter how hard I try. I walk toward Haven and my sister, who still have tears running down their faces. My legs refuse to go any faster than the slow walk they grace me with. Both girls come barrelling toward me, almost knocking me over with their hugs at the same time. They hold me steady as my hands come around them, but I don’t have enough energy to tighten my hands to reciprocate their strength.

  “I’m driving,” Haven or Frankie tells me. I can’t tell which one. They let go of me, my body still stiff. The crowd walks around us, and I think I hear an announcement that there will be a delay in the events. I need to get a hold of myself. I shake my head; I’m not sure if it’s to reboot myself or to tell them no.

  “Not happening.” My tone is clear, direct with an edge. My body has a slight tremor as I start to feel again.

  “You can’t drive how you are.”

  As I look down, Haven’s red hair flies up into my face, tickling my nose. I swat it away, wishing I had a moment by myself.

  “If you don’t trust my driving, you drive Frankie.” I hate how she flinches at my harsh words. They don’t seem to understand what I’m going through, that all of this is my fault.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Cupping her face, I hold her still so she can look into my eyes. “I need to drive. I need to collect my thoughts. We both know I’m hanging on by a thread right now. I need this.” Pausing, I give her another out. One I hope she takes. The girls need each other. “Please take Frankie. You can follow me.”

  She nods, and I begin walking to my truck, only to see her jumping into the passenger seat and Frankie going in behind. They buckle themselves up before I get my door closed. They’re more stubborn than I can be.

  Sitting in the small cab feels suffocating. Part of me wishes I never made the deal with the devil. Not because I wish any harm to anyone, but because I don’t want to lose Haven. But the last hour has opened my once blind eyes. I understand my father far better now, and the realization scares the hell out of me. I never want to hurt Haven, and I know I can’t promise that.

  Eighteen

  Haven

  It’s been a few days since the rodeo accident. The doctors keep telling Danger’s dad that he was lucky. He ended up with a broken cheekbone and pelvis. The word lucky doesn’t even seem to do it any justice. By a miracle, he won’t need surgery, but it will take a few weeks to heal. The doctors haven’t given him a timeline as to when he gets to leave the hospital, since they are still observing him. Danger has been at his parents’ place, trying to help out as much as possible, when
he’s not at the hospital.

  I wish I could take the guilt and pain away from him. It hurts me, seeing him like this. My phone pings with a message. Opening it up, there is a message that says my DNA results are now online.

  Thankful for something to take my mind off Danger and everything he is going through right now, I open up my laptop. Immediately, I have relative links. Excitement shoots through me. As an only child, I love meeting cousins. I’ve always wished I had a cousin that lived close enough that we could be friends and have sleepovers. It’s funny I never wished for a sibling but always more cousins.

  My fingers pause in my inspection. Instead of seeing my uncle Ron and his kids, strangers’ names stare back at me. It’s not the stranger’s name that gives me pause, per se; after all, I was hoping to find new relatives from Italy. It’s the fact that none of my known relatives have linked up to me.

  Going to the ethnicity estimates, I have no Italian decent, but 60 percent Irish and Scottish. My father is always talking about his Italian ancestors, and I should show some of my background from there. But I have zero. Not even a small percentage.

  Disappointment flares inside me that there has been some sort of mix up with my results. My parents’ anniversary is coming up too soon to have it redone in time.

  My phone dings again, but this time a message from Danger tells me that he’s going to be staying at the hospital longer than expected. The last week, he’s hardly been home. Our conversations are short and distant. Not being able to stand the distance there seems to be between us I give him a call.

  “Hey,” he answers on the third ring. I can hear someone being paged in the background.

  “How is your dad?” I ask, needing to hear his voice.