Winter: A High School Bully Romance (Sunset Beach High Book 2)

by McKayla Box

  The pistol cracks and I jerk against him, even though I know the shot was coming.

  The engine roars beneath us and we take off like we're coming out of a slingshot. It's nothing like leaving my driveway. It's the steep drop on a roller coaster with no time to get ready. The force of the bike pushes me backward, but I manage to hang onto him and pull myself back into him. He's like a tree that can't be moved.

  The noise from the bike is deafening and the wind rushes past us as if we're riding into a tornado. I keep waiting for us to slow, but we only go faster. I force my eyes open, but everything is a blur.

  “Hang on!” Trevor yells and I feel the bike finally start to slow just a fraction.

  I can see the tall, orange cone that we have to navigate to get around and then head back. Just to our left, I see Kane and Bridget, maybe half a motorcycle length in front of us. Trevor moves the bike out wide to make the turn. Kane does the same thing.

  And I realize we'll smash into one another if one of them doesn't take a different path.

  The back wheel starts to move right and it feels like we're falling. My stomach jumps, I scream, and hold on tighter to Trevor. But then I realize he's moving to make the U-turn and we're sliding so that he doesn't have to brake as much. It feels like we're out of control, even though I see his foot down and where he's angling the bike.

  And I see Kane doing the same thing across from us.

  We are on a collision course.

  “We're going to hit them!” I scream.

  Trevor says nothing as he gets the bike into a slide as we head for the cone.

  “Trevor!” I scream.

  Dust rises off the ground in waves, but I can them starting their turn on the opposite side.

  We'll be head to head and if neither of them gives, there will be a head on collision.

  Panic courses through me and I'm clutching onto his shirt.

  As we come around the cone, Trevor makes a hard, last second move to the inside and Kane is forced to go wider as the back of our bike kicks out and we get pointed back in the direction we've just come.

  We are around the cone first.

  Trevor's wrist flicks and the bike screams forward again. I turn and look behind us. They are around the cone and coming up behind us.

  And the look on Kane's face is fury.

  He closes the distance quickly, his front wheel even with our back.

  And then he moves closer.

  I can reach out and touch them they are so close.

  Trevor moves a fraction to the right, trying to give us more room.

  Now Kane's front wheel is to the middle of our bike.

  And he moves to the right again.

  Trevor moves over again.

  And I can see what Kane's doing.

  He's trying to squeeze us.

  Because the canyon narrows at the finish line.

  There's an embankment on the right, almost like a ramp, that will block our path to the finish line.

  Our front wheels are almost even.

  And Kane moves another inch to the right.

  Bridget is tucked in behind him, looking the other way.

  And her leg bumps mine.

  That's how close we are.

  I look forward and I see we're running out of room.

  Trevor will have to drop back or we'll run right up the embankment.

  Except he's not slowing down.

  “Trevor!” I scream over the engine. “Slow down!”

  He doesn't react.

  And he doesn't slow down.

  The walls of the canyon are creeping closer and the embankment is twenty feet in front of us. It's a wedge of dirt that jumps out from the wall, angling upward, and blocking our path.

  Trevor flicks his wrist. The engine whines louder and we lurch forward.

  And I realize he's not dropping back.

  He's going for the embankment.

  I'm screaming incoherently, but he's laser-focused on what's in front of us. I squeeze my arms around his body, my fingers interlocked at his stomach, I squeeze my eyes shut, and I've never been so afraid in my life.

  I feel the front wheel hit the embankment and we tilt upward.

  And then we're weightless.

  I force my eyes open.

  We are in the air, soaring forward, leaning to the left, our back wheel cutting across Kane's path in a way that puts the wheel in front of his face. He throws a hand up to protect himself and his bike instantly slows.

  We land, the bike bouncing against the ground, and wobble for just a second. But Trevor keeps us upright, sends us shooting forward, and we are across the finish line.

  First.

  THIRTY

  Trevor brings the bike to a stop and we are swallowed by a crowd of people. My heart is racing and I'm nearly hyperventilating. Adrenaline courses through me and my back is caked with sweat.

  Terrifying and exhilarating.

  Trevor hops off and looks at me. His face is caked with dirt and sweat. “Are you okay?”

  My throat is dry and I can't find the words, but I nod.

  He gives me the half smile. “Sure?”

  I look around at the mob of faces surrounding us. Gina and Maddie are both jumping up and down, screaming their heads off. People I've never seen before are clapping him on the back and saying things in my ear that I can't make out.

  I nod again.

  He leans down, kisses me, then lifts me off the bike.

  Weightless again.

  He sets me down and finds my hand with his. He squeezes it.

  I try to squeeze it back, but I'm shaking.

  We make our way through the cheering crowd, heading back toward the finish line. The crowd parts just enough for me to see Kane still sitting on his bike. Bridget stands next to him, her hand on his back, consoling him.

  It's still strange to see her with him. It's like seeing a shark with a dog. It doesn't fit.

  Trevor pulls me along until we are a few feet away from them.

  Kane finally looks up, his face a mask of rage.

  Trevor smiles. “I'm gonna need the keys to your shitty bike.”

  Kane glowers at him.

  “And I've got your number,” Trevor says. “So I can text you the pictures when I part it out. Probably sell the wheels first.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Kane growls.

  Trevor laughs. “Get off my fucking bike, asshole.”

  It takes him a moment and I think that maybe he won't, that maybe he'll refuse and won't turn over the keys. I don't know the rules, but I'm already gearing up for a fight.

  But then he swings his leg off the bike and stands next to it. Bridget is next to him, holding on to his arm. She won't look at me.

  “This isn't over,” Kane says, shaking his head.

  “It actually is,” Trevor says. “I hit the line first. That's the end of the race. And why we're standing here now, waiting for you to give me your bike.”

  He flips the keys at Trevor, but Trevor is ready. He snatches them out of the air and quickly drops them in his pocket. “There we go. Good boy. Maybe I won't part it out. Maybe I'll put some Hello Kitty stickers on it instead and sell it for fifteen bucks.”

  “Fuck you,” Kane snarls.

  Trevor laughs. “Sure.”

  We stand there for a moment, Kane looking like he's ready to explode, Trevor smiling at him.

  And Bridget is still not looking at me.

  She looks smaller next to Kane, like kid next to an adult. Her eyes are everywhere, except on me. Her arms are around his, like she's hanging on for dear life. I wonder if she knew what was happening tonight. Did she know Kane was riding against Trevor? And did she know Kane was going to insist that we ride with them? I have so many questions.

  But she won't even look at me.

  Kane points a finger at Trevor. “It's not over.”

  “Dude, I already explained it to you,” Trevor says. “It's over. Now get the fuck away from my new bike.”

 
Kane stares at him for a few seconds, then moves his gaze to me. His eyes are filled with hate and anger and it's all I can do to not look away. I don't want him to think I'm scared of him.

  But I am.

  Then he smiles at me, baring his teeth in a way that reminds me of vampires. “I'll be seeing you, sweetheart.”

  “I'll probably be on your bike,” I blurt out.

  The crowd around us cheers and laughs.

  His ugly smile disintegrates and he starts walking away. His arm slips from Bridget's grasp. She glances at me for the first time, then walks quickly after him. She tries to hold his hand, but he's either not paying attention or doesn't want to. Her hands slides to his wrist and they walk away from us like that.

  Trevor leans down and kisses my cheek. “You fucking rock, Pres.”

  As I watch Bridget walk away with Kane, I don't feel like I rock.

  I'm just sad.

  THIRTY ONE

  We hang out in the canyon for another hour or so afterward. We talk with Brett and Jake and Maddie and Gina. The boys are amped up by what we've done and the girls just keep asking me if I'm okay.

  “I would've shit myself,” Gina informs me. “Right there on the back of the bike. In public.”

  It's funny, but I don't feel much like laughing.

  Because all I can think about is Bridget.

  Brett rides Kane's bike out of the canyon and Trevor and I are on his. The wind is colder now and the adrenaline is wearing off. I'm tired and my body aches.

  And so does my heart.

  When the bike stops, I'm lost in thought, and I sit up.

  We're at the beach.

  The water is dark, the wind is coming in steady, and the sand is empty.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “I need to rinse off,” he says, getting off the bike. He pulls his shirt off and smiles. “I hate all this dirt and shit on me.”

  “Uh, you ever heard of this thing called a shower?”

  He laughs. “Uh, yeah, smart ass. But sometimes I prefer to jump in the ocean.” He lifts me off the bike and sets me down on the pavement. “You wanna join me?”

  “No, because I'll freeze my ass off,” I tell him.

  He opens a rear compartment on the bike and pulls out a thick, plaid blanket. He hands it to me. “This should keep you warm while you wait.”

  We walk down to the sand and I wrap the blanket around me. He strips down to his boxers and jogs down to the water. I sit down in the sand and watch him dive into the water, popping up on the other side of the black and white waves. He swims out a little ways, then turns around, and heads back. He rises out of the ocean like Aquaman, water dripping from his entire body, the boxers clinging to him in all the right places.

  My heart races.

  I unwrap the blanket from my body and spread it on the sand so he has somewhere to sit. He sits down next to me, leaning back on his hands, and takes a deep breath.

  “Aren't you freezing?” I ask.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Nope. Feels good.”

  “Freak.”

  He laughs and nods. “Yep.”

  We sit there for a few minutes, watching the waves, not talking.

  “What is she doing with him?” he finally asks.

  “Literally no idea,” I tell him. “Like I told you. I had no idea. We knew she'd hooked up with someone and that they were seeing each other, but she wouldn't tell us who it was. Now I guess I know why.”

  He shakes his head. “She doesn't know what she's doing.”

  “What's his story?” I ask.

  He wipes some of the water off his face and runs a hand through his wet hair, pushing it all back in a big, messy mop. “I don't even know where to start with him. Well, we were friends in grade school.” He shrugs. “We were the biggest and the fastest kids, so we played sports and all that. It's like with Athena. We got pushed together. And it was fine. We were kids, so we were friends. But then he got super competitive. About everything. We couldn't ride our bikes to the beach without it becoming a thing. It was stupid.” He shakes his head. “So I just sort of got tired of it. And, you know. You get older and it's easier to drift to other people in middle school. So we had other friends. But it pissed him off.”

  “That you weren't friends anymore?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yeah. And it wasn't even that we weren't friends. We just weren't hanging out. But he took it personally. And, like, it's never gone away. His family moved to Del Sol in eighth grade and some people told me it was so he could actually play sports against me. I don't know if that's true or not, but it sort of seemed like it was.” He smiles at me. “Joke was on him, though, because I bailed on sports when I got to high school.”

  “Why?”

  He wrinkles his nose. “Because I just got tired of it. Too much bullshit. And all the parents were assholes. Football parents wanted me to play football, basketball parents wanted me to play basketball, and baseball parents wanted me to play baseball. Everyone wanted me to concentrate on one sport and it just got stupid. I just decided I'd rather surf. So I quit all of it. Fuck it, you know?”

  I nod. “Sure. Do you miss that stuff, though?”

  He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Not really. Playing ball with shitheads like Derek and Kane?” He shakes his head again. “Fuck no. And all the time it took was crazy. I'm happy surfing.” He smiles at me. “And being with you.”

  I lean into him. “Thanks. Same.”

  He turns back to the water. “But Kane's just never let it go. When he realized I wasn't playing anything anymore, he decided to focus on surfing because he knew he'd find me out here. It's always something. It's fucking exhausting. And I've just seen him do some ridiculous shit.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like punch a guy in the face because he thought it was funny,” he says. “Like slash some tires because they were parked in a spot he wanted. I've heard other shit, too, that I'm not sure is true, but I don't know. He's just a bad dude. That's all I can tell you.” He glances at me. “And I've heard awful shit about him and girls. So. Be prepared.” He looks at me for a long moment. “I guarantee he came up to you on the beach because he found out we were together. Just trying to start shit. And it wouldn't surprise me at all if he's messing around with Bridget because she's connected to you.”

  “Really?” I ask. “That seems like...a lot?”

  “I know it does,” he says. “But he's a lot.”

  The waves are rolling in rhythmically, small flat lines of white that disappear when they reach the shore. Over and over again.

  “So you're telling me I should be worried,” I say.

  “I'm not telling you anything except that Kane is an asshole,” he says. “I know she's your friend, but if she's stepping into his world? Look out.”

  I nod. I'm not sure how I want to handle it. Her reaction to me in the canyon wasn't what I was expecting. I need more time to think on it before I do or say anything to her.

  “What will you do with his motorcycle?” I ask.

  Trevor shrugs. “Sell it, probably. I'm not gonna take it apart and sell it because that's a pain in the ass. I was just trying to piss him off.”

  “You'll really sell it?” I ask.

  He looks at me. “Why wouldn't I?”

  “I don't know,” I say. “It's just sort of weird that you take his bike because you beat him in a race.”

  “That's the deal,” he says. “Don't play if you can't pay. And fuck him. If it was someone else?” He shrugs. “Maybe I'd handle it differently. But Kane? I'm selling that shit and I won't think twice about doing it.”

  “Just asking,” I say. “Not telling you what to do.”

  He covers my hand with his. “And thanks for tonight.”

  “What did I do?” I ask.

  “You rode with me,” he says. “And I know you were scared, but you got on anyway and you did it. You trusted me.” His eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “Thank you.”

 
; “You don't have to thank me,” I tell him. “I wanted to do it.”

  He laughs. “No, you didn't. But you did anyway.” He winces. “But you may have broken a rib, hanging on to me.”

  “Maybe if you didn't drive like a fucking maniac.”

  “Maybe I was just trying to get to the finish line so you'd let go and I could breathe again.”

  I slap him in the chest and he falls onto his back, laughing. There are beads of water still on his chest and his boxers are still clinging to him.

  I climb on top of him and lay my hands flat on his chest. I lean down and kiss him softly. His hands crawl up my back and into my hair and I kiss him harder. He pushes his hips harder up into mine and my tongue slithers into his mouth. He groans softly as I push my hips down against him. I can feel him against me. I reach down with one hand and find him in the wet boxers. He groans again.

  “Take my shorts off,” I whisper.

  He unbuttons them and pushes them down my thighs. I tug on the waistband of his boxers and pull them down.

  He grabs the edges of the blanket and wraps it around me, covering us up. I move my hips until I find him, then push down.

  He groans and pushes all the way up into me.

  My breath catches and I lean down, pressing my hands into his bare chest, my lips brushing his.

  We find our rhythm.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  His hands grip my hips as we move, keeping us as one.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “Always.”

  THIRTY TWO

  Bridget doesn't show up on Monday morning to take me to school.

  I'm not surprised, but it still bugs me. She ignores my texts all weekend, so I know I might have to ride my bike, but it still bothers me. I've texted Maddie and Gina, but they haven't heard from her, either.

  So we come up with a plan.

  An intervention, of sorts.

  And it's the same thing I learned from Trevor.

  We take turns calling each other in and telling the office that our daughter has a doctor's appointment before lunch. The office arranges to send each of us a blue slip. Then I call again and arrange for one to be sent to Bridget.

  I'm waiting outside of her classroom when she comes out with a confused look on her face. When she sees me, she slows. “What are you doing, Presley?”