Finding Brielle (a Forever & Always novel)

by Paige, Alyvia

  “You didn’t have to come,” I remind her as we take our spot in line to board. “But I’m happy you decided to, a little vacation will be good for you.”

  “All work for you… all play for me,” she titters. “I mean tough job checkin’ out riders… I mean watching you practice and race.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I laugh, taking my seat next to her. First class upgrades are fucking awesome. I push my legs out and fasten my belt while she grabs her notebook then stows her carry-on in the overhead compartment. “You still training with me or is that against your vacation policy?”

  “Yep, I gotta get my shit in shape.”

  Little does she realize, no one – and I mean NO ONE – thinks she is out of shape or in need of exercise, but the doctor recommended a regular exercise regime and new diet plan to help alleviate her Endometriosis flare-ups. If Brie can minimize her pain, she jumps right on board, no matter if she enjoys it or not. I listened to her moan about eggs being on the restricted list for a good three days.

  Midway through the flight she passes out, her head is slung toward the aisle. Moving the armrest to the upright position, I wrap my arm around her and nudge her toward my shoulder. Her lips barely parted, she puffs small bursts of air as she nuzzles into me.

  Our situation is becoming harder to avoid, I love her and I know she loves me, yet neither of us has taken the step to discuss it. She nearly had a conniption over the skating rink, and I swear it was done with the most honorable intentions of a friend… okay that’s a lie. I truly hoped that would entice her to stay more often during off-season. The consistent flirting, cuddling, and occasional handholding in private, all point to the direction of continues to see where our actions lead us.

  Almost a full month down –three races into the season, and Brie has managed to keep her mouth closed until… well fifteen minutes ago. Moto-girls. I don’t know why she allows them to get under her skin, but once they do, you’d wish a nuke would go off to save your ass.

  “That pussy-finger-whore says one more suggestive comment to you, and I will skin her alive,” she shouts two octaves higher than her normal temperament would.

  “What did you just call her and which one?” I laugh incredulously.

  “Kelly, fucking twat keeps reminding me of how I was gone for a few years, and things have changed. Fuck her, I’m here, and you are mine, not hers. You best tell that bitch to get lost; I will kick her leather leggings ass all the way to wherever in the fuck she came from.” Cue Brie to stop dead in her tracks from pacing to and fro in the aisle of the motorhome. “Why are you laughing?”

  Unfortunately, I cannot stop laughing. At this point she is so strung out, no matter what I say or do is only going to exacerbate her current state. I simply shake my head as she throws herself onto the sofa across from me.

  “Are you fucking her?”

  “Who?” I bark out laughing just before she cuts me a glare that could kill. “I’m kidding. Ellie, I’m not fucking anyone. You’d know, I’m with you unless I am with the press or riding.”

  “Then why is this so funny? The girl sends nudes to all the riders she can… finger banging herself. GROSS.”

  “Kelly does not do that. Well, I don’t think she has, she’s a representative of the industry. She grew up from seven years ago. Perhaps, you just need to get to know her…” I laugh again as she puffs out her irritation then settles when she meets my eyes. I love when she gets riled up, but she’s never slipped and called me hers. “Or not. Come ‘ere,” I hold open my arms as she trudges the three steps and stands before me. Pulling her into my chest, her legs give way to the reclining ledge of the chair and she rests against my chest. “I’m yours, huh?”

  “Uhm, what? Well, I mean it’s pretty much just you and me… has been for the past few months.” She shrugs and buries her head into my chest, her breathing accelerated.

  “I’d love if you were my girl again Ellie, but if that’s not what you mean, then I can deal with that, too.” I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her to me. “You’ve always been my girl.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, I know you and your shenanigans when we separated.” Her soft giggle warms my heart, knowing she accepts that what is in the past is in the past when it comes to our other relationships. “Promise it won’t be like before?” Her question. While seemingly simple, isn’t truly. Before her jealousy and insecurity got the best of her, before she shut down or blew up when I didn’t take extra time with her and I focused on my sport, my job.

  “I promise I’ll be more cognizant, but the road and job hasn’t changed. I’m clearly unavailable to any estrogen-filled woman these days anyway. Especially since the second weekend in January.” I smile and shoot her a wink once she looks up at me and kiss the tip of her nose. “Here’s to a great season.”

  I suppose that slip up calling Jase mine didn’t cause as much havoc as I presumed. At least my lack of filtering got us both to where we wanted. I refused to accept we were growing closer for many reasons. I didn’t want to be that girl, jumping from one guy to the next. I didn’t want to be that girl that signs up for something she can’t handle. I didn’t want to be that girl who shows someone all her flaws, faults, scars, and story without knowing I’m not going to be left in the wind.

  I know Chase would never have left me, but I didn’t love him not in the way that would make a relationship stand strong. A piece of me has loved Jase since we were kids, but I learned to shut it down when he left six years ago. I couldn’t handle the constant Moto-Girls feasting on the newbies and winners. I’ve grown up a lot, I guess. That and I look like a woman. Ha! I remember being eighteen and still retaining what I called my “baby fat”… but let’s be real, I just refused to be healthy and get off my ass. I was nowhere near the track they were competing in in regards to my physical self. Insecurities can make or break you and your relationships in this industry. We split and I began to invest in myself, picked up ice skating and became an adult.

  I’ve spent the past two months straight shutting down the feelings that continually bubble up because when we started talking regularly I was adamant that this was only a friendship. Jase helped me process my medical conditions, gave me a safe space to retreat when I was too tired to make it home, and treated me normal. Normal… I don’t even know what that is anymore. I think now I just change its definition on the whim.

  I feel myself nodding off to sleep as I rest against Jase’s chest, struggling to stay awake against his quiet hum and steady heartbeat in my ear. I quickly succumb to the relaxation, only to be startled soon after by the knuckles rapping on the motorhome door. Jase holds me against him as the clunking of boots gets closer. His deep smooth voice sends a chill through me. I sigh and sink further into him.

  “Hey Bro,” Jase says to whoever just made themselves comfortable on the sofa behind me.

  “Comfy?” he laughs. “Been a long time coming, ‘bout time you manned up.”

  “Anyway, what do you want?” Jase questions with laughter in his voice.

  “Nothin,’ just waiting for the lites to finish. Were you serious about last month?” What the fuck was last month, other than Christmas, I wonder, still not moving. Perhaps it should be made known that I am awake…

  “Yep, as long as you haven’t signed with another team, aside from the sponsors that were listed on the contract.” Jase’s heart begins to thump harder beneath my ear.

  “Nope, I’m in. I’ll have Mark drop it off to your lawyer Monday.” I’m now beyond curious on what’s happening, I slowly untuck my head from Jase’s chest and peer up to him with a sly grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Nosy must be ready to make it known she isn’t sleeping,” he laughs and I turn my torso just enough to put Lucas in my line of vision.

  “Not nosy… curious. What’s up?” I ask, my grin completely morphed into a dimple-bearing smile.

  “Lucas is signing onto the Fields Racing Team,” he states wit
h a smile plastered to his face when I turn and eye him suspiciously. “Let it go, Ellie.”

  “Let it go, let it go, can’t hold it back anymore. Let it go, let it go, turn away, and slam the door!” Lucas sings loudly and off key.

  “Dude, stop singing that fucking song,” Jase laughs and lets go of me, due to my insistent squirming. “It’s gonna be in my head the whole race. AGAIN.”

  “You sound worse than Jase singing.” I chuckle and another rap on the door sounds followed by Barry, Jase’s pit manager, tromping toward us. “Damn Barry, can you move any quieter, I don’t think we heard you coming.”

  “Cute,” he deadpans then thrusts out his hand, thumb up and jerks it back to the door. “Let’s get a move on, ladies.”

  “Aye, Aye Capitan!” they both shout. Jase nudges me up off his lap, and tells me he will see me before the lineup.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m with the families and wives of the riders watching from the sidelines. I used to be very anxious when I saw Jase riding the track. Watching his patterns, tracking his time. Not so much now, thankfully. Yes, it’s scary, anything can happen, but he is seasoned and about a full second and a half ahead of the pack. Okay, so I still watch the timing. As long as he stays in his lane and rut patterns, he’s got this. Two laps to go and Lucas has moved from fifth to second and pacing Jase.

  “Ahem,” someone to my left nudges me slightly as I cheer and clap. The checkered flag just dropped and Jase took first with his soon to be teammate in second. That’s the fourth race and he has yet to be beat. To say Jase has come a long way over the past two years is an understatement. With two national championships under his belt, he is on track to claim a third title and the white plate looks just so sexy on his KTM. I look to my left quickly while still clapping, my smile falters as bright green eyes stare at me. Seriously, that fucking whore is everywhere. “WOOOHOOO BIG DADDY!” Kelly, the PFW aka moto-girl screams.

  “Excuse me, Kelly,” I sneer taking back the space I had just squeezed out of and make my way around the barrier ahead of her. Perk to your rider winning, if you are close enough you can squeak through security and get a better look at the podium and awards with the media circus.

  “Oh honey, none needed.” She flips her long black mane over her shoulder, hefts herself up, and clears the barrier passing me as she skips to the stage.

  Once Jase spots me beaming from ear to ear on the sideline, he rides over to me and plants his left foot on the ground, removing his helmet. Typically, I get a high five or small hug, but when he takes off his gloves and cups my face with his hands, my heart races. “Great job Jase,” I smile in his hands, just before his mouth crashes onto mine and I melt into his hold.

  “Let it gooooo, let it gooooo…,” he croons against my lips before pulling away. It takes all I have not to pull a face of annoyance because let’s face it, every mother trucking camera is zoomed in on the newest attraction. “Oh, don’t tell me you jumped ship already Ellie.”

  As soon as his voice caressed my nickname like only he can, my face split into a deep dimpled smile. His hazel eyes haloed with a honey brown rim scanned my face, bouncing from my mouth and back to my eyes. “Nope, not yet.” I say shaking my head.

  “Good, because that was just a friendly re-acquaintance,” Jase’s smile could light up the arena as he speeds over to the podium, taking his place and doing his thing.

  February 7

  I called him mine… he kissed me… on national television. Oh lord… my heart hammers against my chest when I replay the kiss. We are four races down; the next one is on Valentine’s in Dallas. It’s also time for my shot, thank fuck… I’m running out of false energy. Once I acclimated to the shot, I was golden… golden until the last few days before the next one. It’s a process. I’m on my endo diet – no caffeine (minus sneaking in coffee), no eggs, and limited red meat and dairy unless it’s on the approved list and exercise… fuck me, it’s a new vice to feel normal. My normal – I run daily, plank, and squat. I’m a fucking beast of sexiness. A fucking horny beast of sexiness… really, really horny.

  “Next stop Dallas,” I say tossing a wadded up piece of paper at Brie who is vegged out on the sofa.

  “Next stop is my shot, then Dallas.” Her voice has become more and more defeated as the days wind down until her next injection. Let’s just hope this one doesn’t make her as sick on top of her pain. Dr. Bradley called this morning to discuss her side effects and pain level. The last thing I recall before Brie took the call off speaker was Doc telling her the pain contractions from the bleeding adhesions in her case are similar to those in labor, so she needs not to fret about taking the pain medication as needed. Good news is that injection two should provide her more relief.

  “Yep, twenty minutes and we will meet up with the traveling medic.” I concur, “How’s the pain level, you ready for your bubblegum flavored pain medicine?” I laugh. Bubblegum flavored pain medication just doesn’t seem very appealing to me, but with her intense pain and lack of being timely, Dr. Bradley switched from pill to liquid form. Same strength, faster acting – smart call doc, smart call.

  “Umm no, I’m okay.” She smiles back to me where I sit at my makeshift desk. I wish she knew I can see through the smile. Her deep chocolate irises are lacking their luster, her body paler and constantly balled up. The thing about my Ellie is she’s always the life of the party, nothing gets her down, but this… this kicks her ass on a daily basis. Unless anyone besides our driver, Bryan is around us. Girl can fake it… big time.

  “All right then, let’s eat.” I suggest because if I left it to her, there would be no eating unless she was starving, by then the pain is worse, the medication requires food, and she gets hella bitchy. I construct two spinach wraps stuffed with Italian seasoned chicken, cucumber, green pepper, and a sprinkle of cheese then curse, realizing that we have been trying to cut out the gluten. Brie’s head lolls to me in the kitchen before a bubble of laughter passes her perfectly pink pouty lips.

  “It’s okay, one wrap isn’t going to matter.” She pushes up from the sofa but falls back crying in pain. I keep myself busy giving her the space she needs and doing my best not to say ‘I told you so’ about the pain medication. She’s so damned stubborn. “I’ll just eat here,” she sighs defeated.

  “I’ll be right over with your pain meds and lunch.” I dish up a bowl of fresh fruit, making sure she has most of the strawberries and watermelon as usual. I have no qualm over eating the grapes, raspberries and blueberries because it never fails that she will rob me of what little of her favorites I scoop into my bowl. “Drink your happy juice,” I order holding out a measuring cup filled with clear bubblegum flavored Vicodin. What? She cracks me up if she’s in a decent mood after taking it. Then again, that’s not usually the case; stubborn people would rather ruin their mood then cooperate.

  Nine races in and all on the podium – two in second, the rest in first. That’s a damn good start to the season. Brie and I just deplaned at IIA, and for a Tuesday morning, it is quite gloomy. I honestly hoped with spring approaching we’d have a little sunshine. Indiana, it’s the home to farmland and the Indianapolis 500. Yep, I’ll be going back there… again. Grabbing our luggage off the conveyor belt, I walk back to Brielle bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “Why are you so peppy?” I ask reaching her side and begin to lead us out of the airport, car rental key in hand. “Was that four hour flight too long for your liking?”

  “Beats the motorhome,” she chuckles as we hit the road to our hotel located beside Lucas Oil Stadium. “Let’s get to the hotel, change and take a run. I need to burn off some of this energy.” My girl’s eyes are shining with excitement; this is how it is from about day three post-shot until day five pre-shot. She’s like wonder woman in all things, which eases my mind when I can’t be around, yet breaks my heart when I know she’s faking her life to outsiders when her disease overpowers her strength. She says ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ to me and ‘I’m great, grand, won
derful’ to anyone else with the fakest smile on her face, and no one seems to notice… no one but me.

  “You got it Ellie, but remember I have two meetings this afternoon, we have dinner plans, and then I have to hit the sack for my five in the morning workouts with Gerald.” Pulling into the Drury hotel, we park and make our way to check in.

  “Where ya taking me?”

  “To dinner.” I deadpan as I hit the stainless steel button marked with a 10, illuminating the white circle around it and ascend to our suite.

  “Dick,” she laughs pushing past me as the elevator opens. “I hate surprises.”

  “You love my surprises, now get changed or maybe we can raincheck and take a nap.” Just at the mention of a nap, Brie yawns while shaking her head no. “I think you mean yes,” I offer while redirecting her head shaking to agree with me. “I just wanna shower off this plane stink then we will go run or take a nap.”

  “Oh… is the tub nice? A long hot bath sounds phenomenal.” She sighs, taking off toward the suite bathroom. “Holy shit, it’s huge! Like you could fit five people in here… it’s an orgy pod!”

  “It’s a what? Where do you come up with this shit?” I laugh as I take time to place our toiletries in our makeshift home for the next week.

  Turning on the tub, giving it a good rinse and wipe down, she begins to fill it with steaming hot water. Clearly satisfied with progression of depth, she shimmies out of her Foxx lounge pants, divests her top, and sports bra at once. What in the serious fuck, I’ve been a deprived, horny bastard for months. Nearly half a year, if I’m being greedy and she is fucking undressed and sinking into this ‘orgy pod’ in front of me.

  “Want company?” I ask as my sweatpants begin to tighten to the enlarged bulge growing.

  “Nope,” she grins. “Could you hand me my toiletries or would you prefer I emerge dripping wet to gather them.”