Thirty-One

                                    

                                          
"Okay," I slapped my knees and stood up, "it's over. Let's go back to the hotel."
                          
"Ohhh, no you don't!" Wyatt grabbed my hand and pulled until my butt made contact again with the hard wooden bleachers. "I am not letting you skip out and go to bed! That's pathetic!"
                          
"He's right," Kellan nodded solemnly. "Going to bed would be lame."
                          
"So? I'm not known for being a fun person. That's all you guys."
                          
"Bullshit!" Blake yelled, leaning over to look me in the eye. "I think you're a very fun person. Slightly more so when you have a little alcohol in you, and definitely the most fun when you're not stressed out."
                          
"I'm not drinking," I ground out, annoyed by the suggestion. 
                          
Blake waved off my ferocious reply. "Yeah, yeah,  I know. And I'm not gonna be that friend, don't worry." 
                          
I could've laughed when she shot a pointed look at both Kellan and Wyatt. 
                          
"If we aren't gonna drink, then what're we gonna do?" Wyatt questioned, gaping at the three of us. 
                          
Blake shrugged and shoved her hair back over her shoulder in annoyance. "I don't know. Use your imagination."
                          
"Let's visit for a while," Kellan suggested, getting to his feet. 
                          
His towering form was outlined by the stadium lights in the background that gave his black western shirt an odd glow. 
                          
He stretched out a hand in my direction and I took it before hopping off the bleachers and turning to stare at Blake and Wyatt. "Are you two coming?" 
                          
Blake shrugged again and jumped over the set of stairs, landing on the packed dirt with a thud. 
                          
Kellan lead the four of us through the sparsely populated rodeo grounds until we hit the grass of the trailer area. 
                          
I'd already walked my brothers out to their car. To my surprise, Torrin had ridden up with Tommy and they'd grabbed Charlie on the way through. Up until about two months ago, Tommy and Torrin couldn't even handle being in a room together. It amazed me to no end how much Torrin had changed. 
                          
The trailer area was dimly lit and full of cowboys either celebrating their wins or nursing bottles; sometimes both. There were a fair amount of buckle bunnies, too, mostly found hanging on the arms of the big shots. 
                          
Our course changed when somebody hollered for Kellan. 
                          
"Hey, man. How's it going?" He walked up and began conversing with a stockier guy in an expensive looking black felt hat. 
                          
"Not too bad. I bet you're feeling pretty good tonight," the guy smirked, his large hand aimlessly shifting around the neck of a brown glass bottle. 
                          
"Yeah, I'm pretty happy with it," Kellan replied, toying with the brim of his hat. 
                          
I had to admit, he looked good tonight. Even in the dim light, his blue eyes and the blonde tips of his hair seemed to sparkle. Everything was set off by his black cotton shirt and felt hat. I decided black was his color, just as Wyatt's was white. 
                          
 "Wyatt, hey man! You want a beer?"
                          
"No thanks, Colt. I don't think I'm gonna be drinking tonight."
                          
Colt's large mouth dropped open and he stared at Wyatt, as did the four other guys leaning against the trailer opposite him. "What'd you just say?"
                          
"You heard me," Wyatt drawled, sending them the half smirk I'd grown to love. 
                          
"Are you takin' meds now or something?" One of the guys asked in a bark of laughter.