Changing Gears

by Roseanne Beck

  “Lies,” I say to Lauren. “All of them. Don’t listen to him.” Especially since it makes me sound like a teenage girl.

  “Hmm...” Lauren studies me, the smirking smile playing at her lips. “Well that’s a pity. Because I love it. And I think whoever designed it deserves a big thank you.”

  Pride swells in my chest. “Oh, well, in that case—”

  “You’re welcome,” Gunther says.

  Lauren chuckles and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Seriously. Thank you. It’s perfect. I don’t know how you’re gonna top this.”

  Me neither. But I think I’m gonna have fun trying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Lauren

  JAKE PAUSES INSIDE the door of my condo and looks around. “Nice. It looks like you.”

  I follow his gaze around my living room. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a cozy, tidy space with comfortable yet serviceable furniture, books and photos scattered across various tables and lining my bookshelves, and a couple of paintings on the walls. “Thanks?”

  He grins. “I like it.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” Even though it might not look like much, it feels good. Especially this time of day. The setting sun gives the room a soft glow. It always feels like a warm hug. “You want something to drink?”

  “Maybe in a bit. We need to take care of that tattoo first.”

  “Oh. Right.” It’s been a couple of hours since we left Gunther’s, and I plan to follow his post-tattoo instruction sheet to a T. Dumping my bag inside the door, I take Jake’s backpack and set it next to mine. I pull out the supplies we picked up on the way home, lining up the soap, antiseptic ointment, and bandages on my kitchen counter. “My bathroom’s definitely bigger than Bert’s, but you’ll probably have an easier time maneuvering out here.”

  “A grateful nation thanks you.” Jake props himself against the counter. “Okay. Strip.”

  Even though we’ve had a significant amount of naked, sexy time over the past two days, his command still makes the butterflies in my stomach beat a nervous rhythm. It all still feels kind of surreal. Like it’s almost too good to be true.

  Calloused hands slide up my back, gently removing my shirt while leaving little explosions of pleasure in their wake. I shiver as he teases my bra strap off my shoulder.

  “Cold?”

  I shake my head.

  “Ah. The other kinds of shivers. Got it.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and the deep rumble near my ear does nothing to calm the hormones rushing excitedly to parts south. “Hold that thought. Let’s take care of this first. Then we can take care of the other stuff.”

  “And by other stuff, you mean helping each other heal, right?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.” He whispers a kiss on my neck. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.” Efficient fingers remove the bandages, and he gently cleans the area.

  “How does it look?” I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s healed. Makes me kind of wish I was brave like Jake and would’ve put it somewhere visible. The fact that Gunther came up with that design based on what Jake told him amazes me. Both Gunther’s artwork and Jake’s insights.

  “Looks great,” he says, covering it again and moving my bra strap back in place. “If you wanna bring stuff to the shop, I can help you clean it and change the bandages.”

  I turn to face him. “Or, you could, you know...come over here.”

  “Or that.” He wraps one arm around my waist, keeping the other on the counter for balance. “You know, I’ve actually been having some crazy thoughts.”

  “Oh? Crazy like whipped cream and hot fudge?”

  His eyes darken, and a lascivious grin curves his lips. “Well, those too... But I was actually talking about crazy thoughts like maybe getting my own place.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait. Like, your own place for the next few months? Or longer?”

  “Not a hundred percent sure yet, but I’m kinda thinking longer.”

  The thought of Jake around long-term sends little thrills of excitement through me. Concern soon follows. “Oh. Does that mean you’re done with racing?”

  Jake’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Will you think less of me if I am?”

  The vulnerability in his eyes squeezes my ribcage. “Of course not. It’s a huge decision. A scary decision. And no one can make that decision but you.”

  The corner of his mouth quirks in the hint of a smile. “Thanks. You give really good pep talks.”

  “No problem. Go, Team, right?”

  His smile widens. “Right. Go, Team.” Shifting against the counter, he brushes a kiss against my collarbone. “While we’re on the subject of team dynamics, yesterday you said something about me scaring the crap out of you.” Another kiss. “What’d you mean by that?”

  “Oh.” I tilt my chin, giving him better access to my neck. “That.” Pleasure hums through me. “I just meant that I thought you were intimidating.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He nibbles my earlobe.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh...” My brain cells try to process my thoughts. No easy feat with his continued ministrations to the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Because of how hot you are. And how confident. And how hot.”

  He chuckles. “I believe you said that one already.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “And now?” he asks.

  “Oh, my God. So hot.” Burning, in fact. I may very well burst into flames right here in my kitchen. “But not so intimidating. Just a really good guy.”

  “For the record, you scared the crap out of me, too.”

  I pull back, giving him a questioning look. “I did?”

  “Uh-huh. With your gigantic brain and your smart hobbies and your two jobs. Totally out of my league.”

  “What?” No one in the history of anyone has called me out of their league.

  He crosses his heart. “Honest to God.”

  “And now?”

  “Oh, you’re still definitely out of my league, but I’m a hard worker.” He winks. “I’ll keep climbing the ranks.”

  Delight and desire curl through me. “Any chance you feel like putting in some more hard work tonight?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

  “Great. Just follow the hall straight back. I’ll get our stuff.”

  As Jake heads toward my bedroom, I grab the bags. My phone buzzes, and I pull it out. Crap. Five 9-1-1 texts from Megan.

  Do I text her back?

  Or do I ignore it?

  Ignore it. After all, Hot Jake’s in my bedroom waiting to get to work.

  But what if this is the one time it really is an emergency?

  It’s never an emergency. And you deserve one more night of fun.

  The merry-go-round of arguments slams to a halt when someone knocks on the door.

  “Lauren?” Megan calls. “Are you in there? Are you okay?”

  Oh, crap. What the hell is she doing here?

  “Do I need to call 9-1-1?”

  Crap, crap, crap. I tiptoe to my bedroom with the bags. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” I wince. “Megan’s here.”

  Jake nods. “Got it.” I start to close the door but stop when he adds, “Uh, you may want to put on a shirt.”

  Oh. Right. I hustle back out front, wrestle my shirt in place, and put on my game face. The one that says I’m just here by myself. Alone. And definitely do not have a man waiting for me in the bedroom.

  Oh, God. We’re in trouble. My game face sucks.

  Forcing my mouth into a smile, I open the door. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “What’s up is that I just sent you five 9-1-1s.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been kind of busy.”

  “Yeah. With work, right?” Concern and suspicion war on her features.

  “Yep. You know how spacy I get around end-of-quarter time.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrow.
“Except it’s not end of quarter, is it?”

  “Uh...” Crap. I didn’t think anyone paid attention to the weird calendar we operate on at school.

  “Although it does seem like you’ve been busy.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and swipes at it a few times, then holds it out toward me. “With a certain someone?”

  The pit in my stomach opens up as I stare at the screen. At the picture of me and Jake sitting at the Motocross event. Me, laughing at something he said. Him, with his arm around me, a boyish grin on his face. We look happy. Like we belong together.

  The gooey warmth flows through me again, but it’s chased away by the stern expression on Megan’s face.

  “What. The. Hell?”

  “Um... I was curious about Motocross. So he took me?” Yeah. That sounds plausible. Except for the fact that it came out like a question.

  “Uh-huh. And were you also curious about what his tonsils tasted like?”

  “Wha—?” The question dies on my lips as she flips to another picture. One of us mid-kiss.

  Megan cocks an eyebrow. “Anything you want to tell me?”

  “He’s a really good kisser?”

  She gives me a bland look. “I know.”

  “Oh. Right.” My brain cells slowly come back online. “Wait. How’d you find these?”

  “They popped up on a racing site.”

  “Why are you searching racing sites?” I didn’t even know she liked racing.

  “Two words—Luca Romano.”

  “Oh.” Totally figures that I’d get busted because she’s crushing on an Italian hottie Supercross star.

  “If these pictures are correct, you lied. To my face. Right there.” Megan jabs a finger at my sofa. “‘Please tell me it’s not Jake,’ I said. ‘It’s not Jake,’ you said.”

  “Okay. I lied. It’s Jake.”

  “No shit. And seriously. What the hell? I thought you were smarter than that. Smarter than me.” She shakes her head, disbelief slowly morphing into curiosity. “Okay. I’m still pissed. But I’m also dying over here. Spill it. What’s going on between you two?”

  My eyes dart to the bedroom, and she gasps. “Is he here?”

  My bedroom door squeaks open, and Jake appears in the doorway. “Yep.”

  Megan hisses and jabs a finger at Jake. “You!”

  Jake crutches into the room and raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you’ve got to say, go ahead. I’ve got it coming.”

  She balls her hands at her sides, her lips pressed into a fine line. “You will not hurt my friend.”

  “He’s not hurting me.”

  “Yet,” Megan adds.

  Jake locks eyes with me. “I promise I will never hurt Lauren.” He holds my gaze for another beat before turning his attention to Megan. “And I owe you an apology. For how I acted when we...you know. I was a douche. And I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well...” She crosses her arms and glowers at him. “Temporary apology accepted. But so help me if you do that to her—”

  “I won’t.”

  “Okay.” Megan gives a curt nod, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “Holy crap. I still can’t believe it.”

  Yeah. Join the club.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jake

  STRETCHING OUT ON MY bed, I scroll through my phone, then punch dial. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Jake! What’s wrong?”

  “What? Nothing’s wrong.” I wince. She’s practically wired to expect medical disasters when I call.

  “Oh. Phew. Well, then, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Can’t a son just call his mother to say hi?”

  “Depends. Are you the son?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Then no. You’re not exactly the chatty phone guy. So, what’s up? How’s your leg?”

  “Okay. I’ve got another couple of weeks with this cast, then I should get a walking boot. Still a ways to go.”

  “But at least it’s headed the right direction. That’s good.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Hey, Mom? Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Of course. As long as you and your sister aren’t picking on each other again.”

  “No, Mom. It’s not about me and Tracy.” I blow out another calming breath. “What would you say if I decided not to race anymore?”

  “I’d say hallelujah.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Well, yeah. You go sixty miles an hour and rocket thirty feet in the air. I love you, but you’re kinda crazy.”

  “Says the woman who currently works at a nudist colony.”

  “Hey. At least no one here is in danger of landing in the hospital. Except for Barry. But that was because he threw his back out having sex.”

  “Ew. Mom!”

  “Relax. It wasn’t with me. Poor Marge,” she murmurs. “Anyway. What were we talking about?”

  “Definitely not you and your kinky clients.”

  “They’re not kinky. They’re just regular people who don’t like to be inhibited by convention. And who happen to tip very well. But back to you. Are you seriously thinking about giving up racing?”

  “Yeah. I am.” I swallow down another wave of unease. “Would you think I was a quitter?”

  She snorts. “No. Definitely not. I might wonder if Tracy’s been slipping something into your food, but I wouldn’t think of you as a quitter.” Her tone softens. “Why would you think that?”

  Doubt squeezes my windpipe. “Because it’s the only thing I’ve been good at. And I’d be giving it up.”

  “Oh, Jake. Stop that. You know that’s not true. You’re good at plenty of things. And you always knew the racing thing wasn’t forever. Right?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Then what’s the real issue?”

  Shit. Leave it to Mom to keep right on jackhammering.

  “Because of how hard you always fought. For me. And you. And us.” I gulp. “You never quit.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t really have a choice. Single mom, two kids... I just had to keep moving forward. There was no room for quitting. But what you’re going through is totally different.”

  “Still feels like quitting, though.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the universe opening up another door for you.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with my mother?”

  “Hey. I can be philosophical.”

  “Since when? Oh, my God. It’s the nudies. They got to you, didn’t they?”

  She stifles a laugh. “Jake, stop. I’m just saying that sometimes things might not be as bad as they initially seem. Take raising you and your sister, for instance. There were days I thought you’d both drive me crazy. Now you’ve both grown into wonderful adults, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

  The emotions thicken my throat again.

  “And as an adult,” she continues, “you don’t need my permission. You can do whatever you want. You just need to follow your heart. What’s your heart telling you, Jake?”

  “You mean besides the fact that I have a seriously cool Mom?”

  “Of course. That’s a given.”

  I bite back a smile as I take stock of the jumble of feelings I’m not used to dealing with.

  Because if I’m not mistaken, my heart’s telling me that I might be ready for my life to move in a different direction. That I’ve got a really good thing going here, and that I don’t want to mess it up.

  And that my greatest fear is that I will.

  I TAP A BEAT AGAINST my empty breakfast plate. “So, uh, you got a few minutes?”

  Tracy glances at her watch. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I talked to Mom last night.”

  “Uh-oh. She didn’t talk you into visiting her at the nudie colony, did she?”

  “No. Although apparently there’s a friends and family discount. Clothing optional.” We both shudder. “I called her to discuss some things.” My gut clenches as I pr
epare for my next words. “I’m done racing.”

  Her eyes light up. “Really?”

  “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

  “Oh. Sorry. It’s just—”

  “I know, I know, hurtling through the air on a death missile.” She grins as I air quote one of Mom’s favorite ways to describe my job.

  “Well, that,” she says. “Plus the fact that maybe you’d consider sticking around?”

  “Funny you should mention that...”

  “What? Seriously?”

  “Yep. I’ve kind of been thinking it might not be the worst thing in the world to put some roots down. At least on a trial basis.”

  “Wow. That must’ve been some talk with Mom.”

  “Nah. I was thinking about that before last night. I’ve been thinking about it for a little while now, actually.” With a significant increase over the weekend. “And, uh, you should probably also know that I’m dating someone.” Might as well keep the revelations coming. Especially since Lauren and I plan on spending a lot more time together.

  “What?” Tracy’s coffee sloshes over the side of her cup as it hits the table. “Who?”

  “Lauren.”

  “Your boss, Lauren?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say. On so many levels.” She shakes her head. “I mean, one—she’s your boss. And two—you’re actually dating someone. Which implies a relationship. Which I didn’t think you were capable of.”

  “Gee. Thanks.”

  “Oh, come on. Not like I’m telling you something you haven’t said yourself a million times.”

  As much as it ever pains me to admit that my sister’s right, in this case, she is. I have said it. On numerous occasions. “Yeah, well, she’s different.”

  Tracy’s eyes become saucer-round, and she gasps. “Is she The One? Oh, my God. Is she the reason you’re staying?”

  I shift in my seat. “What? No. We just started officially dating this weekend.”

  “Eh. You might be surprised. Sometimes love doesn’t take all that long.”

  “What? Who said anything about love?” I know I definitely haven’t. And neither has Lauren. This is just...something after the friendship stage.