First Love Second Chance

by Kira Blakely

  “He’s a trained athlete. He’s good at what he does. It’s just…” I couldn’t wrap my head around the danger of it. “I don’t know, Emily. I just can’t sit back and wait for it to happen again.”

  Emily shook her head at me. “You shouldn’t have to. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, either. He knows what you went through.” She stood up to give me a long and warm hug. “I better let you get to work. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  I smiled at her as she walked out of the coffee shop. I looked down at my phone, at the photos I had taken of Jude throughout his circuit. Some of them were with his fans who gazed up at him with love and admiration. That was why he continued to do what he did. I could see it in his eyes in the photographs. The love he never received at home, he sought it out through the fans he came into contact with.

  I stopped on a photograph of him suspended in mid-air with the bike at his fingertips. He wasn’t just a fifteen-year-old kid doing tricks. He was good at what he did. He had also branched out to do other things in the process, too. He had started his own merchandise line. He had a few energy drinks with his name attached to them. The endorsements from Nike. The future paychecks he would get for just showing up to certain events. He wasn’t a gangly teenager trying to impress his friends anymore. He was a businessman. A very successful one at that.

  I understood it then as I opened up my computer to let my fingers dance across the keyboards. His success had nothing to do with danger. It had everything to do with taking risks for the love that he wanted from those around him. I wished that I had a margin of that bravery.

  Chapter 23

  Jude

  Returning to Chicago for the Games was bitter. I booked a seat on a plane to fly back from Vegas to Chicago, just to avoid hearing Chuck chatter away about how he was right when it came Ava. I didn’t want to hear it because he wasn’t right about Ava.

  An entire fucking week of nothing. No returned phone calls. No text messages. Her boss had no idea where she had gone exactly, judging from the phone call that Chuck had placed. I was half-tempted to file a missing person’s report on her because I had no idea where the fuck she had gone.

  I had an idea, though. I just wasn’t going to chase after her this time. No, not this time. I had the Games to think about. I had to get prepared, no matter how tempting it was to fly all the way out to where I suspected she was—Gypsum.

  Rubbing ointment over my wrist, I stared down at the garage where a few of my mechanics were doing their last-minute checks on everything. They were adjusting a few things around the engines on the spare bikes as well. The Games went on all day. It was always a good idea to have a few back-up bikes, in case of crashes. I had learned that the hard way years ago, when I showed up with one bike, crashed it, and then had to wrench on it quickly in between my time slots.

  That would’ve made a good story in the article. Something about what a hard worker I was and all that bullshit. Ava clearly didn’t care about any of it. I still had no idea why I asked her to come along with me around the circuit. Sure, sex had been the main motivator behind all of it. I wanted another chance to get her in my bed but it was deeper than that. I wanted to prove to her that I wasn’t doing this to rub Andy’s death in her face. I felt that loss every time I got down on my bike to race around the arena.

  I felt it every damn day. I sat down at my desk to rifle through the pile of fan mail that Chuck brought in the office weekly for us to sort through. I was halfway through reading a letter from a young kid in California when the door to my office opened.

  “Courier brought this for you.” Chuck handed over a manila envelope to me. “It looks like it’s from Gypsum.”

  I recognized Ava’s handwriting on the front of the envelope. I tore the top off to pull out a couple pages of paper. The article. I stared down at the typed words before looking up at Chuck in amazement.

  “It’s from Ava,” I said. “It’s the article.”

  Chuck immediately tried to grab it from me. “Let me read what she wrote. I have a feeling it has nothing to do with what we discussed.”

  “I’ll read it first,” I snapped, pulling it away from his grasp. “Go down into the garage for a little bit.”

  “JJ—”

  “I said go away.”

  He left my office with an irritated sigh. I sat the article down on the center of my cluttered desk. This was it. This was the answer to everything. It wasn’t a coincidence that this came in the mail before the Games could start.

  I sucked in a deep breath through my nose before focusing on the words.

  This wasn’t the article that I hoped to write about Jude Jacobs. To all of you, he is a supercross athlete, charming all of your children with his edge. He knows how to ride. He knows what he is doing when it comes to the arena. He is the definition of danger. He happens to be a man that many of you would love if you knew him personally.

  He told me recently that the reason why he had gotten so good at riding was because of his father. I remember that little boy, years ago, running to my house on his bike so he could get away from the pain of his past. He could escape by going fast. I think he took that lesson to heart as he went through his life.

  My brother Andy, who was close friends with Jude, died in a motocross accident. For a long time, I hated this sport. I hated Jude for doing the thing that killed my brother because I feared losing another person to it. I realize my hatred for this sport came from something else entirely and didn’t involve the man you see in this article.

  I didn’t understand why he kept riding every single day. It felt like he was trying to escape my brother’s memory but now, I realize that the love he wanted from his family has come through his fans. He kept going forward because he could feel the love from all of you reading this. He might not know this but I believe that he deserves every bit of his success. I believe that he deserves the most love in the world. I had to abandon the tour to finish writing this article because of all the love I wanted to give him.

  We come from a place called Gypsum, Kansas. It’s in the middle of the flat lands that all the tornados miss…

  “Son of a bitch,” I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. “Damn it, Ava. Why did you have to send this to me now?”

  This wasn’t the piece that we had agreed upon. It wasn’t about me. It was about her feelings for me. I sensed it in her words as I scanned the rest of the article. She didn’t want to hold me back. She didn’t want to lose me, either. Grief circled both of our lives but she believed that every risk I took was well deserved.

  Not anymore.

  The risk wasn’t worth Ava. My life, maybe, but not Ava’s love. She was worth more than the fame and everything else that came with it. These words confirmed to me what I had long suspected and hoped she’d come to terms with. She loved me. We’d loved each other since the day Mrs. Parks had assigned Ava to be my English tutor.

  I checked the address on the other side of the envelope to find it was Ava’s parents’ address. She had returned home, like I assumed she would if she hadn’t gone back to the city for work. I grabbed the article from my desk to glance at my wrist watch. I still had plenty of time to get to Gypsum.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Chuck asked when I darted down the stairs into the garage. “What did the article say?”

  “I’m going to Gypsum,” I said, handing the article over to Chuck. “I’m booking a flight. I’m going to fly out today.”

  Chuck’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? No, you can’t. The Games are in a few days. We don’t have time to waste.”

  “This is not a waste of time,” I said firmly. “I’m going to Gypsum. I’ll be back in time for the Games.”

  I left instructions with my team while Chuck stood at the door. I watched as he read the article quickly with a scowl tugging at his lips.

  “This is trash,” he said, shaking his head. “We didn’t agree to this type of article. Wh
at the hell is she thinking?”

  “The article isn’t just about me,” I said, grabbing it from him. “It’s about everything that happened to both of us. Let her publish this. It’s a good piece.”

  “JJ—”

  “Don’t start,” I said, holding up my hand. “She isn’t just a piece of ass, man. I love her. I know you don’t get it, but I love this woman.”

  I pushed past Chuck to head out into the parking lot for my rental car. He followed behind me with an exasperated groan.

  “This isn’t going to look good on your brand,” he said. “Think about what you’re doing here, JJ. Is she really worth all of this risk?”

  I turned to look him straight in the eye as I pulled out my car keys. “Yes. I take risks every single day that could kill me. This is different, and I’m willing to take a different type of risk.”

  Chapter 24

  Ava

  “This is a really good article, Ava. I’m impressed.”

  I smiled in appreciation at Dean’s compliment as he handed the article back to me from across the booth the three of us were crammed into. I tucked it back into my leather satchel that I had brought for them to read.

  “I think Jude is going to appreciate it,” Dean continued, smiling at me. “He’s always really cared for you, Ava. You know that, right?”

  Emily looked at her husband with arched eyebrows. “I have a hard time believing that JJ has the ability to care about anyone besides himself.”

  “He does care about other people,” I said. “I know it sounds crazy, coming from me, but I realized a lot of things about him while we were traveling together.”

  “Like what?” Emily asked curiously.

  I cradled my cup of coffee close to my chest to absorb the warmth. “For starters, he said that he couldn’t ride his bike for a long time after Andy’s death. He couldn’t get the accident out of his head, either.”

  “I knew that,” Dean said quietly. “He came to me a few times about it. He just couldn’t get on a bike without seeing Andy’s death in the back of his head. It fucked with him for a long time.”

  “It got to all of us in different ways. Jude wasn’t any different. He tried to talk Andy out of it.”

  “As compassionate as that is,” Emily said, “I just have a hard time looking past that cocky asshole part of him, you know? I feel like what he does is an insult to you and your family.”

  “I used to think that, too. I really did for a long time.” I took a long and deep breath. “He made a good point to me that we all have to start moving forward with our lives. Andy wouldn’t have wanted him, or any of us, to keep lingering in the past. I didn’t want to hear that and admit that he’s right, but he’s got a point.”

  “So, if you see his point, then why are you here right now?” Dean asked. “You want to move on from Andy’s death. Which is great. But it means accepting Jude’s career.”

  “That’s the hard part,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I had to let him go. I can’t watch it. And I don’t want to get in the way of the fame he deserves.”

  “You deserve a man who loves you,” Emily pointed out, shaking her head. “If JJ truly cared about how you felt, then he would take a step back from the circuit. He just doesn’t want to give it up.”

  “I’m not asking him to,” I added firmly. “I love my career just as much as he loves his. Sometimes, it’s just better to go separate ways. Who knows?” I shrugged. “Maybe we will meet a few years from now. You just never know what is going to happen.”

  Dean motioned for the waiter to bring us the check. He held out a credit card for the waiter to take before looking back at me with a comforting smile.

  “Well, I don’t care what Andrew says. You’re a talented writer. Your passion doesn’t get you into trouble, so I think you should publish this.”

  “I think I’m going to see what people have to offer me,” I said. “This is a big story. I don’t care what Chuck Ambrose threatens to do. I only care about what Jude thinks.”

  “That’s all that counts,” Dean said. “What’s your game plan, now that you are back here in Gypsum?”

  I smiled at them. “Pack up my room. Pack up Andy’s room, too. Start moving on fully from the past.”

  “Your parents are okay with that?” Emily asked. “I mean, they’ve kept Andy’s room the same since…”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s the point. They don’t know that I’m doing it but I think they need to be encouraged to let go, too.”

  Emily reached across the table to squeeze my wrist with warm fingers. “If you need anything, call me. Don’t hesitate to reach out.”

  “I will. Thank you both for reading the article.” I smiled thinly at Dean. “I needed a good friend to tell me I’m not crazy for it.”

  “You’re not crazy,” he assured me. “It’s honest. It’s raw. I really don’t think Jude would’ve wanted it any other way.”

  Once the waiter returned with the receipt and Dean’s credit card, the three of us embraced before I walked slowly in the direction of my parents’ house. Their SUV was parked in the driveway next to my rental car. Sprinklers clicked away lazily in the front yard as I walked along the stone pathway to the front door. The doormat was askew from someone wiping their shoes on it.

  I reached down with the intention of straightening it when a pair of child hand prints caught my attention from beneath the rug. Scooting it off to the side, I smiled when I took in Andy’s handprints next to mine in bright blue paint. I traced Andy’s small fingers with the pad of my index finger. He was still here in little ways. Like a distant summer breeze. You could feel him, but not see him.

  I placed the mat off to the side before stepping inside. The smell of coffee and baking cinnamon buns filled my nose as I kicked out of my flip flops to walk down the foyer in the direction of the kitchen. My mother looked up from the paperback novel she was reading at the breakfast bar when she heard me come inside.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” she said, smiling at me. “What are you doing?”

  “I was just meeting Emily and Dean for coffee this morning,” I said and took a seat next to her on the bar stool. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Upstairs in his office, I believe. He is going fishing later this afternoon with a few buddies of his, if you’re interested in going with them.”

  “I can’t. I have to do some work and pack up, too.”

  “Pack up?”

  I met my mother’s startled eyes with an even and pointed look. “Yes, Mom. It’s time to pack up the rooms. It’s time the James family starts to move on from the past.”

  “How do you suggest we do that?” she asked, flattening her book down in front of her and focusing fully on me. “Just throw everything into a box and place it in the basement?”

  Bitterness filled her voice. I reached across to wrap an arm around my mother’s shoulders as they quivered with the emotions I felt deep inside of me, too. The thought of putting the past in a dusty box in the basement was excruciating, but we had to do it. We had to let it go because Andy would’ve wanted us to. He would’ve done it himself if he could have. We couldn’t keep living in the past.

  “You know that Andy would want us to pack his room,” I said softly. “You know that, Mom. I think we all know it’s time we get some motivation to go forward with our lives.”

  She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “I know you’re right, sweetheart. It’s just so hard to think of letting go of you kids.”

  “You’re always going to have us. I mean, Andy is still here. I feel him whenever I walk through here. I don’t think he’s going to care if we pack up his old things. It’s the memories that count.”

  “It’s the only way that I get to be with Andy after all this time.” An exhausted sigh left her as she picked up her coffee mug. “The group your father and I go to encourages us to pack up his things as well. Not live around a shrine if it is causing us pain.” She gave me a strained smile then. “Your father has been want
ing to pack up Andy’s room for a while. I just never felt ready to do it.”

  “Well,” I said, grasping her hand. “I am here to help you do it. We’ll do it together. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  We spent the next couple of hours sitting in Andy’s room while we laughed and cried over the pictures he had saved. We packed up his trophies on the dusty dresser while we pulled out clothes from the drawers. It was well past ten at night when both my parents retired for the evening after placing what boxes they could part with downstairs—mainly his clothes that smelled dusty and his bedding. The pictures, they kept in a plastic box. After taping one of the remaining boxes up, I pushed it up against the wall for my father to gather up in the morning. I opened the closet door next to find his motocross gear hanging there, as if he were going to pull it on any minute.

  Tears filled my eyes as I reached out to gently grasp the padded sleeve. A picture fluttered to the ground from the shelf above when I let go to shut the door. I crouched down to gaze at the glossy photo of Andy and Jude standing next to one another with their arms wrapped about each other’s shoulders. Their grins were cheesy and forced because I had taken the photo.

  I smoothed a hand over Andy’s face. “I miss you, Andy. More than you’ll ever know.”

  Placing the photograph in the front pocket of the padded shirt, I closed the closet door on it before clicking the lights off to Andy’s room. It felt empty but a good empty. Peaceful.

  I padded down the hallway to start the process of my own room. I was halfway through placing books in a box when the sound of a rock tapping against the window caught my attention.

  I pushed the curtains back to gaze down at the front lawn. Shock registered through me when I recognized that raven hair beneath the hood of a sweater. I opened the window quickly to stick my head out to look down at him. “Jude? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You know what,” he whispered, taking a step back to look up at me. “Come down. We need to talk.”