Bullheaded

familiar warmth of Johnny on his back, even though he tortured himself by thinking himself this was never going to be his again.
    The pressure on his leg let up for a minute and Johnny rolled off his back, but apparently it was only because the bull had changed direction and was heading back toward Cody. Vern yelled loudly to chase the bull in a different direction. The rope went taut again. Cody dug his fingers in and clawed at the dirt, vainly trying to stop the drag.
    Here we go again , Cody thought. He gasped at the sudden weight on his back when Johnny jumped on top of him and tugged at the boot. Reese and Vern were shouting and running alongside the bull, Johnny was yanking at him, and Cody was basically being a toboggan at the bottom of the heap.
    And then, relief as his boot came loose and the stretch of tendon in his hamstring was released. He stopped sliding and felt Johnny grab his vest, hoist him to his feet, and hustle him over to the fence, always keeping his body between Cody and the bull. He felt a hand on his ass, pushing him up onto the rails. The crowd was going crazy cheering. He looked down at the handsome face grinning up at him and tried to smile back. “Thanks.”
    “Getting off isn’t your best thing,” Johnny told him. “Maybe you should work on that if you’re going to keep taking a dive.” He handed Cody his boot and ran off to join Vern and Reese.
    The medics were waiting for Cody, but he waved them off and jumped down. He put on his boot before he raised both hands to the audience, smiling and nodding, even though he felt like shit. As exciting as his dismount was, the ride was tame and a bull he’d already ridden successfully twice should never have bucked him off. Johnny’s words were so impersonal, they could have been said to anyone. As though they were strangers. The whole thing was humiliating, but Cody smiled all the way to the locker room, aware of the cameras on him.
    The canned music drowned out whatever the announcer was saying as he avoided the glances of the other riders in the changing room. They all knew he was supposed to be at the top of the leaderboard, and he was riding like a rookie. And Johnny had laughed at him.
    After the door closed on the cameraman, Cody hurled his rope at the bank of lockers. The thunderous clang of the bell hitting steel made him feel better. It also made the other cowboys clear out quickly and tactfully leave him alone with his anger.
    He sat with his head down, elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his legs. He’d thought one night together would lure Johnny back, if Cody could just make him remember what they had. He was always distracted from the job at hand, thinking about Johnny.
    And it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. Not big enough. Even though he’d managed to turn off the echo of those hurtful words and stay hard, he hadn’t managed to conjure whatever magic was required to get Johnny back.
    The thought of roping Johnny after the event and dragging him off by force crossed Cody’s mind, which made him realize how desperate he was.
    He had to pull himself together for the short round. The points he’d racked up all year were keeping him in so far, but if he kept riding like this he was going to lose everything; any chance of winning the finals, the check, and Johnny. How unlucky could one man be?
    He sat alone, unmoving, staring disaster in the face. He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
    “You were red-flagged, you got a reride,” Dub told him.
    “Whatever.”
    “Temperamental. That’s what you are. One minute you’re on top of the fucking world, the next you’d think you was coming from your own funeral.”
    “Leave me alone, Dub.”
    “Bull hung up a horn coming out of the gate impeding your forward movement, like they say in the rule book. You got another chance for a score in the long round. Shake it off.”
    “Tell them no on the reride. I can’t do it.”
    “Don’t whine like an irritating dickhead. It ain’t like you to give up. You tell them no and you don’t get to change your mind two seconds later.”
    “Just another chance to make a fucking fool of myself. I’ll take whatever score I made.”
    The pause went on long enough that Cody looked up at Dub.
    “Go after him, Cody. It ain’t worth all this misery.”
    “Him—who!” Cody stammered, turning away. “You talking about the bull?”
    “Come on, I only look like a dumb hick. I’m your friend. If you want to keep