Mind in the Middle

"You reckon Tyler will take it all this year?" some old fart was saying, not knowing Tyler Anderson was walking right by him, separated only by the wall of galvanized steel tubing and Skoal advertising banners. With all the noise from the arena, it shouldn't be so easy to hear, but there it was, plain as day.

"Not if he don't get his head out of his ass," geezer number two muttered. "You see him go down in the well today?"

"Yep. Didn't even make three seconds."

Cheeks on fire, Ty kept walking, heading back up the long walk of shame to the locker rooms where he could get out of his chaps and vest, limping a little from where that goddamned Brahma had stomped his shit but good.

Get his head out of his ass. Tyler snorted. No, it wasn't just that he'd torn a tendon in his arm a month back, or that he'd drawn one of the biggest, strongest bulls on the circuit. Not a bit. That was the hazard of being on top of the bullriding game. Everyone speculated when you had a few bad rides, from the Pro Rodeo News reporters, to the gate-pullers on the ground. He'd just hit a slump, was all, and while Ty wasn't one to blame his worries on anyone else, he laid the blame for this dry spell firmly at Sevi Rosa's doorstep.

Damn that beautiful Brazilian bastard, dumping him the first week of finals in Las Vegas. What a shitty thing to do.

The after-party was already going strong when Tyler got there, stopping to sign autographs on the way in. Wouldn't you know it, the minute he headed over to the bar to get a Jack and Coke, there was Sevi, flirting with some girl with tousled blonde hair and a tiny pink tank top.

"Hey, Tyler," his buddy Craig hollered, waving at him from a table. "Come on and it."

Tearing his eyes away from Sevi's sleek, compact body and pretty eyes, Tyler nodded, headed on over, grinning a little. Craig bounced along to the music, which was some band Tyler didn't know, looking like he wanted to two-step someone right into the ground.

"Hey, Ty. You rode like you were somewhere else tonight," Craig said, blue eyes just twinkling, blond hair flopping in his face.

Tyler sighed. "You too, man? And maybe I was somewhere else, at least in my head."

"Yeah, in the sack with Rosa. Man, you gotta give that up."

"I did," Tyler said, sipping his drink and looking around to make sure no one heard that. Hell, half the riders knew. You didn't spend ten months out of twelve on the road with the same hundred guys and not have them know, but it just wasn't something you wanted to advertise. "Or at least, he gave me up."

"So get your head past it. Hey, honey," Craig said to a pretty brunette with too much eyeliner on. "Wanna dance?"

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