Submitting to the Cowboy

*Skylar*

This place used to fill me with nothing but adrenaline. The screaming of fans, the sea of purple and gold, the white-hot lights and thrumming music that had me riding a high so intense everything else paled in comparison.

The Staples Center felt like home at one point.

The stadium echoed with my unsteady footsteps as I walked toward the center of the court, my duffle bag hanging loosely on my shoulder. Six months ago, I stood right in that very spot and smiled as I waved my hands in the air, my hair bouncing off my shoulders while the commentators announced what I didn't know would be my last performance as a Laker Girl.

Now the arena was empty, stale, utterly silent.

"It's a career ending injury, Skylar," Coach told me a few weeks ago when I'd come to watch the audition for this year's rookie dancers. "You gotta give something like this more time."

I didn't have time. Being a dancer was all I'd ever known. All I'd ever wanted. One wrong move and it was all over.

All of this had ended. No more lights. No more music.

I'd been cut from the team.

"You okay?" Gabby said somewhere behind me, her voice echoing across the court.

"I'm just taking a minute." I swallowed hard and looked down at my sneakers, squeezing my eyes shut as tears threatened to spill over my lashes.

"We're all going to go grab some drinks with the new girls. You should come. It'd be fun!"

I'd danced with Gabby on this team for three years. We were veterans on the team. There hadn't been many girls who lasted as long as we had.

Following the Los Angeles Lakers from game to game during the NBA season took a toll on everyone. We weren't paid much, pennies compared to the basketball players we cheered for. I'd scrapped by for three years just to stand where I stood now. Just to feel alive. This was my dream, and now I lived my greatest nightmare.

"I–" I cleared my throat, wiping a rogue tear from my cheek before turning to face her and plastering a casual, carefree smile on my face. She still wore her outfit from practice. They'd run drills today, taught the new girls our old cheers and dances. The season didn't start until October, which was three months away, but that didn't matter. I got called in for a meeting with my coach and management. The season would start without me leading the team. They couldn't risk it, not when my knee still clicked and burned during the easiest drills.

They told me it was because they cared about me. I could easily ruin my chances of ever dancing again if I pushed myself too hard, too soon.

I practically begged on my knees for them to reconsider, but it was done. Their minds made up.

I'd lost my spot.

"Couch did say you could audition next year–"

"I know," I replied, forcing a smooth smile on my face even though inside I screamed. "I'll catch up with you later, okay? Carter's taking me out to celebrate me getting back on the team tonight. So... I need to go home to break the news to him."

Gabby gave me a somber smile at the mention of Carter, who I'd met shortly after making the team three years ago. She eyed me, tilting her head which caused her thick black curls to fall over her shoulders.

"How are things with Carter?"

"Great," I replied tightly, forcing the lie from my lips. Carter, the only man I'd ever known intimately. Carter, with his soft blonde hair and strict demeanor. "I think he's going to propose."

Why did I feel like crawling into a hole every time he brought it up?

"Really?" Gabby asked with excitement.

"We're going to Napa this weekend to visit his parents. He has a whole thing planned–dinner, the works."

"Fucking finally! I'm so excited for you," she beamed, taking my hands in hers. "See? Maybe this isn't so bad. You'll be so busy planning your wedding you won't even think about us. Where would you rather be? Stuffed on a bus on the way to Oklahoma City, or sipping white wine in Napa while planning the floral arrangements for your reception?"

I'd rather be on the bus.

"I guess you're right." I gave her my best smile and squeezed her hands. "I'll see you later."

***

I opened the gate leading to the small courtyard in the center of my apartment complex.

Late afternoon sunlight dusted over the scattered, potted, and neglected plants and the fountain that hadn't worked in the two years I'd lived here during the off season.

Raney, my roommate, wouldn't be home right now. She worked across town as a laser technician at some fancy medical spa for the rich and famous. We'd been friends since college and had a running joke called "friend tax". I got her and her long-time boyfriend, Emery, Lakers tickets whenever they had a home game, and she got me discounts on facials and IPL. A win-win.

What would I even say to her? I dreaded it, honestly, having to face the people I loved and tell them I was a failure.

I had no idea what to do now. Two intense knee surgeries put me flat on my back for weeks-–no, months at this point. Physical therapy seemed to only go so far but it sure as hell made a bigger dent in my bank account than it did in repairing the damage to my body.

I could go back to bartending, I guess. A few months from now, when I got the greenlight to start dancing again, I could go back to teaching dance classes a few times a week. I could work my way up to joining the team again.

Everything felt so up in the air now, though. My plan for my life? The life I'd meticulously crafted and planned out since I was just a little girl?

Poof. Gone.

I grumbled incoherently as I stuck my key into the mailbox and pulled out a stack of letters–mostly bills, of course. Medical bills for my surgery and PT. A few things for Raney.

I slid an envelope with a return address to some law firm in Helena, Montana to the top of the stack as I walked upstairs to my apartment. I didn't know anyone in Montana–well, that's a lie. Mom once said she had some distant relatives who used to live there at one point in time. But I'd never met them. I didn't even know their names, or where they lived.

I slid my key into the lock and used my shoulder to open the door as I stared down at the envelope. My name was written clearly in bold, looping scrawl. Skylar Courtney Grant, and then my address here in LA.

I wondered, briefly, if I was getting sued. I chuckled to myself. That would be the cherry on top of my already fucked up day.

"Well, I guess it can't get any worse," I mumbled as I slipped my feet out of my sneakers and turned to place the mail on the kitchen counter.

But I froze, the mail slipping through my fingers. Mail tumbled over my feet as my duffle bag hit the ground with a smack that echoed through the room. It wasn't enough to shield me from the grunts and moans coming from Raney and Carter as they fucked on the couch.

My boyfriend, and my best friend.

Time stood still for a second, the room spinning. My chest tightened painfully, and then my heart cracked.

My mind went totally and completely blank. I felt... nothing. I was too stunned to feel anything. Nothing at all.

I turned away and gathered the mail. I didn't say a word as I walked right past them and into my room. I shut the door, locking it, blocking out their exclamations and bickering while they frantically tried to come up with excuses as to what they were doing.

Carter told me he was going to marry me. We'd laughed about it a few nights ago while at his favorite downtown club. Raney had been there, smiling down at me as she made me promise I'd make her my maid of honor.

They were fucking. They were fucking on my couch. I knew they'd grown close after my injury, but this?

I eyed the door, watching their shadows dart back and forth.

Then I ripped open the letter from Montana, and let myself come completely undone.