August: What's better than watching my favorite team on TV? Gettin' to see them play live in action. My family surprised me with a once-in-a-lifetime trip, so I'm gonna live it up before the snow flies and I'm frozen to the bone with no one in my bed to warm me up. Here I am in London, ready to catch the game and find a man to set my bedsheets aflame. Realizing my tickets were a scam led me to seek out the next best opportunity and boy, did I find it. This pub's bartender is as temperamental as our bull back home, but it's not long before the sparks between us burn hotter than a wildfire in August. This cowboy knows just how to rope this bull and tame his rage. I have eight days before I'm gone. Time's a tickin'. I better get to work.

Patrick: How did we get here? Americans overrun my pub and it's driving me mad. In a sea of football jerseys, one man sticks out amongst the crowd; he is the life of the party and wants his way under my kilt. He's assertive and says he can tame the likes of me? Bring it on cowboy. I'm likely the most stubborn man ye've met. Nevertheless, why does my heart skip a beat each time his lips are on mine? All too soon he's in Wyoming and all we have now are brief texts and missed calls between time zones. Indecision and yearning have me at a crossroads, each path guiding me to one destination—the man at Schuster Ranch.