by Megan Lowe
“Yeah, that tends to happen in the nine years since I saw you last.”
“It hasn’t been that long, has it?”
She nods. “Since you graduated.”
“Wow.” He scratches his chin absentmindedly. “Anyway,” he says, snapping out of his momentary daze, “you’ve met my girlfriend, McKnley?” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close.
Halliday smiles. “Yep, we were just chatting about the Ryans.”
“Cool.”
She nods. “Dad told me you signed with them. That’s awesome.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy. I mean, it was awesome to win Supermoto, but the NRS is where I always wanted to be, and soon I will be.”
She pats his arm. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” Cole says bashfully, and I nudge him with my hip. He looks at me and I kiss him quickly on the cheek.
“So, ready to have a look at the track?” Halliday asks.
Cole starts to bounce excitedly. “Fuck yeah.”
“Moped’s out back.” She nods towards the back of the garage, and we follow her out there. She stands next to a moped decked out in MotoTech’s sponsors and hands Cole the keys.
“Just take it easy the first few laps, get yourself familiar with the layout, then focus on the turns, going in and coming out,” she instructs. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she asks when Cole doesn’t take off immediately.
“Hop on,” he says to me as he slides back on the seat.
“What?” I ask, shocked.
“Hop on.” He pats the seat in front of him.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Come on, love. My first time around a MotoGP circuit, I want you with me.” My heart melts. “Please?” he asks with puppy-dog eyes.
I sigh. “Fine.” I hop on in front of him. Halliday slaps helmets on both our heads, and Cole’s arms come around me to start the bike.
It’s an amazing circuit and I can feel Cole’s excitement the longer we ride. We do a lap before pulling into the pits again. He turns off the bike before ripping off our helmets and taking my lips in a bruising kiss.
“Holy shit!” he says as we break apart. I just laugh.
“Amazing, right?” Halliday asks. Cole nods. “And that was just on a moped.”
“Is this real?” he asks me.
I cup his face with my good hand. “It is, handsome.”
“It doesn’t seem like it. I feel like any minute now I’m going to wake up.”
“Nope, it’s all real, buddy.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here with me for this.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Now get to work,” I say, hopping off the bike. A brilliant smile lights up Cole’s face and he takes off again.
Halliday shows me to the lounge area they have set up so I can await Cole’s return. It’s also where I’ll be hanging out during practice. I spend the majority of the day working on some new songs my mother will probably hate, corresponding with friends who want my opinion on new stuff they’re working on or acts they’re thinking about signing, and catching up on some long overdue reading.
I can’t remember the last time I was able just to sit and be, not have to work on new material for the band or the million other things my mother expects from me. But being somewhere new, in such a stimulating environment, the creative juices just flow. Added to that, the freedom of being without the controlling influence of my mother or the drama of my sisters is so freeing. I like not having my phone glued to my hand all the time. It’s so nice just to unplug and unwind. And I think I’ve earned the right to do that. I need some time to be me, not McKnley from Places.
Is it childish of me to just take off and not tell my mother? Yeah, probably. But I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m also a guitarist with a broken arm. There’s not a lot I could be doing at home anyway, so I may as well take advantage of this opportunity to be with Cole and see some places I’ve been to but never seen. And then there’s Cole himself, the one man I never thought I’d ever speak to again, never mind fall in love with…. All of this adds up to prime inspiration for some kick-arse songs for someone who most likely won’t be Places.
I’m sad that I won’t be the one to record them, but they’re great and deserve to be heard, no matter who it is that does that. It doesn’t matter though. I feel alive. I feel… happy for the first time in a long time, maybe even ever. I thought my life would always be centred around the band, but being here, being with Cole, is showing me there’s possibilities outside of that. Great, wondrous, exciting possibilities.
Cole goes out for the two practice sessions they have, or FP1 and FP2 if you want the technical terms. In the intervening hours he, TJ, Halliday, and the rest of the MotoTech team are working on the bike, showing Cole data and a whole lot of other stuff I don’t understand. It’s amazing to sit and watch him in his element, in a place where he’s so comfortable, so at home, and I admit I feel a pang of jealousy. I love performing, it’s ingrained in my bones, but I don’t love the music I play anymore. I’m always wanting to push boundaries, to tweak our sound, but my mother insists on staying true to what got us where we are. I look at the song in front of me and I know it’ll be a hit—the market in America will eat this up—but it won’t be Places that records it.
The day finishes at 5:00 p.m., the sun still high in the sky. TJ and Halliday take us to a local flamenco restaurant and we gorge ourselves on sangria and tapas. TJ is a funny guy, regaling us with tales of Cole and the Ryans as youngsters on the local circuit.
“How did you manage not to kill yourselves?” I ask Cole in between laughing. TJ has just told us a hilarious story about Cole and Reed chasing cows on their dirt bikes then almost being run down when a bull came charging at them.
Cole wipes his eyes. “I have no idea. We were young, we were stupid, but I guess somewhere along the line we grew up.”
“And into fine riders,” TJ adds. Cole blushes. He’d say it was from the sangria, but as he’s got to ride tomorrow, he’s not drinking.
“And fine riders need their sleep, so how about we pick up the storytelling another night?” TJ says.
Cole looks at his watch. “Wow, yeah, I didn’t realise it’s so late.”
We walk to the hotel, Jerez’s cobbled streets still teeming with people.
“You did well today, Cole,” TJ says when we get to our door.
“Thanks, man.” They do that manly half back slap hug thing.
“We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight,” I tell them.
“Goodnight,” Halliday replies, giving me a friendly smile.
“Oh man, what a day,” Cole says as he flops on the bed. “You weren’t too bored, were you?” he asks when I sit down next to him.
“I was fine. I did some reading and writing, caught up with friends. It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in a while.”
Cole squeezes my knee. “I’m glad. I was worried you’d be sitting around bored out of your tree and end up wishing you never came.”
“Are you kidding me? The atmosphere here is amazing. Plus, getting to see you in your element, it’s totally hot.”
“Yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh-huh.” I lean over and kiss him. He tries to grab the back of my head to deepen the kiss, but I pull away. He doesn’t hide his displeasure.
“As much as rider Cole turns me on, rider Cole who’s been in heavy leathers all day in the Andalusian heat does not,” I say.
He pulls the neck of his shirt away from his body and takes a whiff.
“Okay yeah, fair enough.” He gets up and heads to the shower. “Wanna join me?” he asks from the doorway. An image of Cole in his leathers, sweat pouring down his face, pops into my head, and before I know it I’m in the shower with him.
The following day goes much the same as the first. Cole manages to qualify ninth for the race, which is better than people thought he would. As
TJ predicted, the media caught wind of my presence but only took a few photos before quickly moving on. I’ve got to admit, it’s nice being just another face in the crowd. They’ll also make a nice slap in the face to my mother. Me being here with Cole looking and actually being happy is going to kill her. Hopefully it’ll also stop some of the bullshit she’s been spewing about us. It probably won’t, but a girl can hope, right? The media loved the conflicting statements about my arm, taking immense joy from what they perceive as a power struggle between her and me. It’s bullshit of course and something I’m determined not to be drawn into.
Back at the hotel that night, Cole fidgets for what must be the fiftieth time. He’s still sleeping behind me because of my arm.
“Would you stop it?” I say.
“Sorry.” He relaxes a little, but not much.
I sigh. “What’s wrong? Are you thinking about tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Nervous or excited?”
“Both.”
I turn ninety degrees so I’m resting my cheek on his chest. “It’s going to be fine. From what I’ve heard and can tell, you’ve done so well this weekend, so you have no reason to be nervous.”
“I just don’t want to make a fool of myself, or let TJ and the Ryans down.”
“You won’t. You’re a rider, Cole, this is what you do, who you are, and you’re amazingly good at it. I mean, look at where we are! We’re in the south of Spain at the MotoGP. This is what you’ve dreamed about.”
A smile crosses his face. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I’m McKnley fucking Rhodes, of course I know that.” We chuckle.
He kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”
“Can we get some sleep now? My boyfriend is riding in the Spanish GP tomorrow, and I need to look my best.”
“You’re always at your best, love.” With another kiss on the forehead, we both drift off to sleep.
Helen Rhodes Opens Up
While Coley are still conspicuous in their absence, Helen Rhodes has opened up about the effect Cole has had on our girl McKnley.
Speaking to Rocking Rumours, Helen detailed the incident that saw McKnley break her arm.
“Frankly it was frightening,” she says. “That he (Cole) could have that much anger and aggression.” She shakes her head. “I thought I raised my girls to have more respect for themselves than that. I know I certainly raised them to have more respect for members of the media who have been so kind in supporting our band.
“Unfortunately I had seen this sort of thing coming, which is why I always make sure McKnley has a camera crew following her so that we might be able to capture any incidents on tape. That way, when the time comes, we have irrefutable evidence of the type of man Cole Matthews really is.
“I’m just a mother wanting to protect her child, and it breaks my heart to see her waste her time on someone who is clearly not worthy of her.
“I thought McKnley had gotten the rebellion out of her system when she ran away after our first fight over her choices, but clearly I was wrong, about so many things.”
She elaborates when pressed further. “Cole is taking over her life. They are always together now, even if it’s to the detriment of their work. McKnley used to be so devoted to her music and spending time with me and her sisters, but not anymore, not since him. I can’t tell you how completely devastated we are with these recent developments, and I urge you all to flood our social media sites to show McKnley just how much support she has.”
It breaks our hearts too and we hope the lack of Coley sightings is an indication McKnley is using her time to heal to also take stock of the type of people she lets into her life.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, please call 1800 RESPECT to talk to someone.
Chapter Sixteen
Cole
I’ve got to admit, as much as I hate that Knley broke her arm, I love waking up wrapped around her. Due to all the injuries I’ve had over the years, I’m used to sleeping in weird positions and anything I can do to make her more comfortable, I will do. In her sleep, she’s turned and is sitting as she was last night, at a right angle to me, her head tucked into her spot between my neck and shoulder. I take in her sleeping form and am so grateful she’s here with me. My alarm goes off and I cancel it before it wakes her. As I do, I see a message that’s come through during the night.
Reed: Avery Casey Ryan was born at 8:27 this morning. Mother and daughter are incredible.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, my intention to let Knley sleep wrecked by my outburst.
“What’s wrong?” Knley asks sleepily. I show her the message.
“Aww,” she coos.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“What else is there?”
“Reed has a daughter, as in a tiny female human he helped create.”
“Well there was a fifty-fifty chance of that happening.”
“Not with the Ryans, they have boys.”
“Not anymore they don’t. Besides, what’s wrong with girls? As I recall from all the stories I’ve heard, you all quite enjoy girls.”
“Enjoying girls’ company is one thing. Raising them is a whole other kettle of fish.”
“Reed will be fine. Bria’s more than capable of wrangling both him and a baby, regardless of gender.”
“I s’pose. Reed Ryan has a daughter, wow.”
“You know what this means?” Knley asks.
I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on her shoulder. “What does this mean, love?”
“It means we can buy all sort of cute little girl things when we’re out and about.” She bounces excitedly.
“You’re such a girl,” I say, shaking my head.
She turns to face me. “You like me being such a girl.” She raises an eyebrow.
“You’re right, I do.” I capture her lips in a scorching kiss. She’s right, I do enjoy her being a girl, never more so than in moments like this.
After our mutual enjoyment of each other, we get ready to head to the track. When we get downstairs, however, we find the town is shrouded in fog.
“Oh wow,” Knley says, taking in one of the few times the town has been quiet this weekend.
“Wow is one word for it,” I reply.
“Will you be able to ride in this?”
“Depends how heavy it is at the track. If it’s not too bad, we will. It should clear when it starts to heat up anyway.”
Even at this early hour, the number of people emerging from the fog and heading to the track is insane. You can’t even see the campsites closest to the track, but judging by the amount of people on the road, they all must be empty.
Warm-up has been pushed back half an hour so it gives us a little bit of time to do some final tinkering on the bike before I get out there.
“You doing okay?” Knley asks during a quiet moment.
I nod. “As good as I can be. I’m ready to get out there though.”
“You’ll be fine. This is what you do, who you are.”
I give her a quick kiss. “I know, but thank you.”
“Anytime, handsome.” She snuggles into my side while we wait for the fog to clear.
It does eventually, bringing with it a beautiful Spanish spring day; not a cloud in the sky, the temp in the midtwenties. Warm-up passed in a blur, and before I knew it we were setting up on the grid. The first few laps I’m in awe of the fact I’ve started in a GP, before it all fades away and it’s just another race, just one more time I get to do what I love, only in front of a bigger, more Spanish, crowd.
I briefly manage to get the bike up to third before I eventually finish fifth, but it’s still a major high. TJ, Halliday, and Knley are going nuts when I get back to the pits. There’re a lot of screams and shouts and smacking on the head, which makes me glad I’ve still got my helmet on. Eventually though they all back off enough so I can take it off and get off the bike.
“Holy shit, handsome,” Knley says, her
eyes bright and a massive smile on her face.
“So what did you think of your first GP?” I ask. She looks me over, bites her lip, and nods. “Yeah?” I ask, and she nods again. I laugh and pull her to me, hugging her tight.
By the time we’re finished at the track and have gotten back to town, it’s cleared out. The streets are dead, the restaurants, bars, and cafes are empty, and everything save for a lone convenience store is closed.
“What a difference a couple of hours makes,” Knley says when we get back to the hotel.
“It’s crazy.”
“This whole weekend was crazy.”
“But a good crazy, right?”
“Only the best crazy,” she says and leans over and kisses me.
I’m exhausted; the adrenaline of today has long since worn off and I’ve got a day of testing tomorrow, so I head to the shower before joining Knley in bed. She’s watching an old episode of CSI: New York, only it’s been dubbed in Spanish.
“Why are you watching this?” I ask.
“I wanted to see what it’s like. Plus, the only English channels are BBC or Al Jazeera.”
“You don’t want to keep up with current events?”
“I’m on holiday. If I wanted to be brought down to earth, I’d read the hundreds of messages and emails my mother has sent me since we left.”
“Fair enough. So what do you want to see while we’re here?”
“I’m not picky. How about we just see where the wind takes us?”
The wind took us to Seville, Madrid, Paris, and Le Mans for the French GP, London, Venice, Florence for the Italian GP, Nice, Monaco, and the rest of the French Riviera, to our final destination, Barcelona, for the Catalan GP. I got the bike up to fourth at Le Mans, seventh at Mugello, and another fifth at Cataluña.
By the end of our four weeks, Knley had well and truly got the hang of life in the “paddock” and she and Halliday were firm friends.
“I wish we lived in the same city, hell, even the same country, so we could hang out more,” Knley says to her on our last night. “I’m going to miss our girl days.”