I pop my ear buds in to drown out the noise. Music’s always been instrumental in helping me find my flow. I start off with a nose grind and follow it up with a boardslide along the rail. I keep my first run relatively safe, putting in as many technical tricks as I can, but nothing I’m not confident won’t land me on my ass. I’ll pull out the big guns in my third and final run. Forty seconds passes by in a flash, and with adrenaline bursting through my veins, I’m on my way out to await my next turn.
Rhett: So proud of you!
Me: Thanks…but how are you watching?
My eyes wander to my section, selfishly hoping that somehow the concert got canceled and he managed to make it out here after all.
Rhett: Raven went live on your Instagram.
Me: Oh.
Poop!
Rhett: btw. You look hot.
Me: Phew! Thank God.
Rhett: Prettiest girl out there.
I can’t help but blush down at the phone in my hand.
Me: Thanks.
In a huge stroke of luck, two of the three girls after me can’t manage to stay on their boards, and I’m officially in third place after the first round.
Our second run starts immediately. One by one, we drop in and do our best to excite the judges. I repeat some of the same tricks from my first attempt, giving them more air and throw in a backside kick flip at the end.
A text alert chimes in my ear just as I’m climbing out of the bowl.
Rhett: I’d hit it.
Me: Shouldn’t you be getting ready to perform?
Rhett: Gonna finish watching porn first.
Me: Oh, does this turn you on?
Rhett: Everything you do turns me on.
Me: So smooth.
With bated breath, I watch my competition slay some of the toughest tricks in the sport, inwardly cheering each time one of them falls off because it means I’m that much closer to achieving this crazy dream of mine.
On my third run, I really turn up the heat. If they’re judging on overall impression, I’m going to leave them with the best I’ve got. This time, I begin with my 360, which increases my difficulty level because of the risky landing. The stars align and I land it flawlessly, then pretty much nail the rest of my run.
Rhett: I just splooged.
When I hear my mom and Raven screaming at the top of their lungs, I steal a glance over to the leader board, where I’ve now jumped into second place.
Me: I think I did too.
Ilsa, a seventeen-year-old badass from Russia, knocks me back into third, but I can’t even be mad about it because I’ve advanced to the evening round.
For the next few hours, I scope out the competition, plotting my runs for the semifinals. My plan is very similar to the way I ran my earlier rounds, but with a few new tricks thrown in to show variety.
This time I draw first in the second heat. It gives me a little more time to observe, but also ample time for my nerves to go haywire.
Rhett: About to hit the stage. Just wanted to wish you the best of luck. Not that you need it. No matter what happens, just remember, you’re still pretty.
Me: Dude, I can’t even with you.
Rhett: Aren’t you going to tell me how pretty I am?
Me: No.
Rhett: *gasp*
Me: I don’t want to make your head any bigger.
Rhett: Too late. It’s already straining against my zipper.
Me: Oh my God. Go away.
Rhett: Seriously though. Deep breaths. Don’t be nervous. Just picture me naked. You’re going to kick ass. I’ll check in after the show.
Me: Knock ’em dead.
Before long, the first heat is over, and I’m up. I pop my ear buds in, take in a deep cleansing breath, crack my knuckles, and I’m off. Halfway through my run, I misjudge the landing on a kick flip and lose my board, ending my turn. On a simple fucking trick that I land every damn day.
Raven: Shake it off. You have two more chances to make up for it.
I’m so pissed with myself that I can’t even respond. I’m just so thankful Rhett was on stage and didn’t see me fall. At the end of the first round, I’m one of only two who didn’t complete their runs and sitting in fourth place.
Knowing I need to make up for that last ride in a big way, I change things up and start off with the exact kick flip that tripped me up, to prove to the judges that I can land it. I follow it up with a nose grind and bring that straight into a huge eggplant invert.
When the buzzer sounds, I exit the bowl feeling really fucking good about myself.
With my confidence restored and one round to go, I observe the rest of the girls from the sidelines, some having killer runs and others crumbling under the pressure.
At the start of the final run, I’m still in fourth. My chance at tomorrow’s final comes down to this. I have literally everything to lose. It’s time to go big or go home, and I’m sure as shit not ready to go home.
Once again, I begin with a huge 360. It’s my most difficult skill, and thankfully I land it without issue. The adrenaline of making that trick fuels me through the rest of the run with more speed and air than I’ve had in any other so far today. When I climb out of that bowl, I know that whatever happens, I gave it my absolute best.
Chapter 34
Rhett
“Oh my God, what the hell are you guys doing here?”
“Shhh.” Nick cups his palm over Raven’s mouth. “We’re incognito.”
Her dark eyes take in our latest attempt at hiding in plain sight. We’re all wearing various ridiculous tees from Hot Topic, cargo shorts, Vans, ball caps, and of course, can’t go anywhere without the sunglasses.
“Hey, Aunt DeeDee.” Nicholas wraps the petite blonde in his arms. “Been a while.”
DeeDee Potter assesses me from over her nephew’s shoulder. “It’s so good to see you, Nicky.” Her hands comb through his hair in a motherly gesture.
After a few minutes of small talk, he introduces my future mother-in-law to Aiden and Lyle, and then finally to me.
“Rhett Taylor.” She smiles, but it’s a smile that undeniably doesn’t reach her eyes. To say the least, she is not impressed. I’ve got my work cut out for me with this one. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Likewise,” I say, shaking her hand, and then lifting it to my lips where I place a light kiss. “Big fan of your work,” I add, eying Korie in the lineup with a waggle of my brows.
“Dude…” Lyle groans, shaking his head, and for a moment he has me thinking that maybe it was a mistake, and my little attempt at humor is going to backfire—until DeeDee spits out a laugh.
See, I’ve got this. I’m so fucking charming. Women can’t resist me. I could win Momma Potter over in my sleep.
“Ahem.” She winds down, clearing her throat. “Yeah, well, she’s definitely the best thing to ever happen to me.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “So, don’t destroy her.” She pulls her hand back to her side, her piece said.
I swallow hard and nod. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”
Thankfully, the announcer’s voice interrupts our awkward exchange, introducing the six girls who are competing in the Chicks with Tricks final this morning.
The guys and I took the red-eye to get here because I really wanted to surprise Stick. My pulse escalates when I take out my phone to send her a message. I’ve been looking forward to her reaction since we decided to come last night.
Me: You’re looking especially beautiful this morning.
Stick: You’re so full of shit. I haven’t even had my first run yet, so I know you can’t see me.
Me: I’m especially fond of the way that white fitted tank hugs my favorite girls like a second skin.
She looks down at her chest then jerks her head up and scours the crowd. When her eyes meet mine, I feel the weight of her smile in the center of my chest.
Stick: You came!
Me: All that porn yesterday made me really fucking horny. What time’s this thing ove
r with?
Stick: Stop it. I can’t think of sex right now. I have to skate.
Me: Fine. You skate. I’ll think of sex.
She shakes her head, shoving the phone into her back pocket to give her undivided attention to the announcers. She drew fifth out of six. Not too shabby.
From the moment the buzzer sounds, everything happens so fast. One girl after the next drops in, all with the same goal: to make their best impression in under forty seconds. It’s absolute insanity.
I haven’t ever felt stage fright as strong as the nerves that cripple me when Korie takes her run. I can’t move. I’m not even sure I’m breathing when she takes off, flipping upside down and balancing on one hand at the top of the ramp.
I must make a panicked sound because her mom chuckles. “She’s got this, just watch.”
She follows that up with a few smaller tricks, things I’ve watched her do at the park. Things that don’t make my heart feel like it’s hurdling right out of my fucking chest. Then just before her turn ends, she gets massive air, spinning around in a complete circle before landing on her board and pumping a fist into the air.
“Yeah!” I shout, jumping up and down. “That’s my girl!”
“Rad, right?” Raven slaps my shoulder before throwing her arms around DeeDee’s neck. “That’s got to be her best run yet.”
Once the last girl has finished her turn, the leader board finally appears.
“What?” I shout when Korie’s name comes up in second. “Bullshit! Are they serious?”
“Shhh,” Raven hisses, looking around. “Stop it. This isn’t a fucking football game. There’s no heckling the refs.”
I bite my tongue, not wanting to get thrown out, and decide to send her a message to cheer her up…you know, just in case she’s feeling as slighted as I am on her behalf.
Me: You’re still the prettiest.
Stick: Thank you.
Me: That was scary.
Stick: That was everything!
Me: You’re kind of a badass.
Stick: That’s what I’ve been telling you…
At the start of the next run, she shoves her phone back into her pocket, keeping her eyes on the competition. She’s all business.
“How old is that little girl?” I ask, indignant, when a kid who can’t be more than sixty pounds soaking wet soars into the air.
“She’s ten…holds the record for youngest female competitor,” Korie’s cousin, AJ, answers.
It’s so different being here and watching this all go down live. It’s more real. More exciting. And more dangerous. “Yeah, well. Korie better not get any ideas with our kids. This is giving me heart palpitations.”
“Such a puss—” Lyle starts, stopping dry when DeeDee glares her momma eyes his way.
“She’s up,” Raven announces, silencing our group.
My damn heart climbs into my throat when Stick soars through the air, doing some fancy flip trick. She grinds her board the length of the rail and transitions right into a nose grind at the top of the wall. On the way down, she loses her balance, skidding on her back in one direction while her board roles in the other.
“Oh…she’s pissed,” I mutter when I see the puckered look on her face as she exits to the side wall.
Stick: Don’t.
Her threat comes before I even have the chance to get my phone out from my pocket.
Me: I wasn’t gonna say anything. But since you brought it up…still so pretty.
I’m not positive, but I think I catch a glimpse of a smirk before she darkens the screen and readies herself for round three.
At the start of the final run, she’s dropped into third. All she has to do is at least maintain her current position, and she’s in.
Me: No matter what happens…
Stick: Don’t you dare.
Me: Just fuckin’ with ya. I’d like to ask a question though.
Stick: Now?
Me: Now. It’s of the utmost importance.
Stick: You’re such a pain in my ass. What?
Me: Do you love me yet?
Stick: No.
Me: Not even a little?
Stick: A little less no than the last time you asked. Now I have to go.
Me: Knock ’em dead, beautiful.
She looks up from her phone, grinning ear to ear, then scratches her temple with her left middle finger before kissing her fingertips and blowing it my way.
Yeah. She’s totally in denial about this whole love thing.
All of the girls really bring it in the final round. I feel bad for the little bitty one when she has a huge fall on her first trick, but she’s been holding tight to first, so I’m ashamed to admit I’m also a little relieved.
“That’s my baby!” I shout when Korie wraps up an amazing run. Our whole little group is jumping and screaming. The girls have tears lining their cheeks, and the guys’ fists all pumping in the air. The official results haven’t been announced, and there’s still one girl currently in the middle of a run, but there’s no way she’s not ending up on that podium after what I just witnessed.
Korie climbs out of the bowl and rushes straight to our little cheering section, throwing her arms around my neck. I lift her into the air, burying my face in her sweaty hair. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Stick.” I feel her nod, but she’s so filled with emotion, she just squeezes me tighter. “No matter what happens…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she pants, pulling back to make sure I see her eyes roll back in her head. “Pretty doesn’t win medals.”
“Maybe not,” I admit, watching the final scores pop up on the leader board over her shoulder, “but second place sure as fuck does!”
“What?” She whips around, turning to see for herself, and that’s when her tears come. “We did it…Oh my God, Rhett. We’re doing it!”
“You did it!”
Almost immediately after the winners are announced, a reporter is in her face with a camera. “Ms. Potter, you’ve just secured your spot in the Vortex Energy Pro Series. How are you feeling right now?”
She sniffs, clearing her throat. “So happy. Amazing!”
“I bet. You were one of the wildcards of this competition. I think it’s safe to say you took us all by surprise. What made you decide to get back into the fold?”
“This guy right here,” she says, reaching for my arm behind the barricade. “My fiancé is a huge believer in chasing your dreams.”
“Rhett Taylor,” the reporter croons, moving the mic to my mouth. “How are you feeling right now?”
“I’m just really fucking proud. She’s amazing.”
“That she is,” she agrees. “We’ll see you on the podium, Ms. Potter.”
Chapter 35
Korie
After the medals ceremony, I rush back to the hotel room to get cleaned up. I don a pair of fresh skinny jeans and black fitted tee with black and white chucks.
“You’re wearing that?” AJ asks, clearly appalled. I mean, the girl has her nerve judging anyone, with her rainbow-colored hair and black leather bondage dress. Don’t know where the hell she thinks we’re headed, but I was under the impression we were going out for beer and pizza. I think I look fine.
“Uhhh, yes?” Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I rotate side to side, trying to decide what’s so wrong with this outfit.
“No offense, cuz.” She wanders to my suitcase and starts rifling through it. “But tonight is the last night with your hot as fuck celebrity boyfriend for who knows how long?” She pulls out a short, red, strapless dress—one of Anika’s purchases—and tosses it my way. “Leave the man something worth remembering, huh?” She waggles her brows.
“How’d that get in my bag?”
“You’re welcome,” Raven pipes in, with the straps to a pair of black heels hooked around her pointer finger, another gift from Rhett’s manager.
“For heaven’s sake, child. Listen to your friends.” I narrow my eyes at my mother. She always wished I’d let
her dress me up like a little china doll. Of course she’d side with the fashion police. “At least if you get caught off-guard by the paparazzi, you’ll look decent.”
“I’d just like you all to know, I’m feeling hella judged right now.”
But it is three against one, so I point an angry finger at each of them before moseying my ass into the bathroom. I remove my comfy clothes and proceed to stuff myself into the red sausage casing.
“It feels like my ass cheeks are hanging out,” I gripe, tugging it down as I wobble back into the firing squad feeling like a total imposter.
“Just don’t bend over,” Abby Jane says, circling around me like she’s inspecting a classic car she’s considering for purchase. “You’ll be fine.”
“Hot dayum,” Raven whistles. “Who are you and what have you done with my drab friend?”
“Let’s go,” I grumble, grabbing my phone from the night stand. “We’re gonna be late.”
Raven comes at me twisting up a tube of lipstick in her hand. I throw my palms into the air, backing away like an animal bracing itself for attack.
“Don’t push it,” I warn. Dude, I will fuck her up. That lipstick will look awesome shoved up her—
“Just a little?” She steeples her hands in front of her face, hanging her lip. “You’re already wearing the dress and shoes. Might as well go all the way.”
When I find myself literally backed into a corner, I finally concede to mascara, eyeliner, and a nude gloss. “Now if y’all are done playing dress up, I haven’t eaten all day and I’m freaking starving.”
“Wait. Just one more thing.” Mom shoves the three of us together, pulling out her phone for a photo op. “Look at my girls.” She brings her fingers to her lips, her eyes shining. “You look like Charlie’s Angels.” Pretty sure we look more like Charlie’s Hookers, but I keep that comment to myself.
Mom, Raven, and I ride with Abby Jane in her car to some local pizza joint called Vinney’s. AJ’s husband, Brock, called ahead and secured their private party room, so we’ll be able to enjoy our dinner with the rock stars in peace.
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