02-Let It Ride Read Online Free PDF

been a hard road for those two, and at one time, he’d hated Tripp for the way he’d treated Marty. But now that he understood Tripp’s reasons, and what he’d had to overcome in order to be the man Marty deserved, Bridge had come to realize Tripp really was the perfect man for his best friend. And there was no denying they were clearly head over boots in love with one another.
    Bridge slid his gaze back to Eric, and his breath caught. Eric was watching him, his expression unreadable, but a little thrill still charged through his veins.
    “Right, Bridge?”
    He jerked at the sound of his name. “Huh?”
    “Dude.” Marty sighed, lowering the French fry that had only made it halfway to his mouth. “What’s with you?”
    “What? Nothing.” Bridge shifted on the hard wood bench, trying to remember where he’d dropped the thread of their conversion while ignoring the glance Marty and Kent exchanged. He also made a point of not looking at Eric. Nope. Definitely not looking at Eric.
    “Lady Loooove,” Kent singsonged under his breath before taking a big bite of his burger.
    “Oh my God. Will you stop?” Bridge growled, his gaze shooting in Eric’s direction. “There is no girl.”
    Kent chuckled around the food in his mouth, and Bridge elbowed him playfully while Marty continued to stare at him. He could see the wheels turning in his friend’s head and the moment he let it go. Thankfully. Bridge knew it was only a temporary reprieve, but he’d take what he could get for now.
    “I was saying,” Marty intoned while giving him the pay attention glare. “I think that young cowboy, Cory Ackerson, will make a great pickup man. He seemed to know every move the animals were going to make before they made them. That’s a talent you’re born with.”
    “Yep,” Bridge agreed, grateful the conversation had picked up where it had apparently left off. He reached for his drink. “He’ll be an asset to the circuit.”
    “Not our circuit, though,” Marty said.
    “No?”
    Marty shook his head and turned to Tripp. “You should have a talk with him. He wants to ride pickup for the IGRA.”
    “What’s the IGRA?” Eric asked.
    “International Gay Rodeo Association,” Tripp said. “I’ve contacted them about teaching bull riding and using what pull my name still has to help bring more awareness and acceptance for other gay cowboys stuck in the closet.”
    “Cool.” Eric leaned forward to look fully at Tripp. “So, can you teach me to ride?”
    Bridge choked on the soda he’d just swallowed, bubbles burning his nostrils. “No!” The word was out before he’d even realized the thought had crossed his mind, and four sets of surprised eyes landed on him. Heat rose in his cheeks. “I mean, bull riding is for psychos.” Shit. “No offense, Tripp.”
    Tripp chuckled, and a crooked smile spread across his face. “None taken. Goes with the territory.”
    Bridge put down his drink and looked at Eric. He tried to play it cool, but his words spilled out in a rush. “Just, you know, it’s one of the most dangerous sports going, and I’ve seen too many guys’ careers—and a few lives—come to end from riding those crazy-ass animals. Not to mention, we’ve never seen you ride a horse, so you shouldn’t be even thinking about getting up on a bull.”
    Not ever, if I have my way.
    Silence fell over the table while the sounds of rodeo life around them amplified in Bridge’s eardrums. Horses and cattle stamping their hooves, whinnying and lowing—it sounded like there was a whole herd right behind him. Voices rose over the livestock in a steady but indistinguishable din, broken at random intervals by hearty laughter, and the unmistakable sizzling of burger patties and hot dogs on the open grill played in the background. All the while, his heart raced and heat flushed over the surface of his skin; perspiration broke out across the back of his neck, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what to say