by Brooke May
“Knock, knock. Anyone home?” My office door flies open to welcome in the royal match of Parker. His royal pain in the arse likes to make sure everyone in any room or half the building knows he is near. I’m honestly waiting for him to hire someone to parade in front of him to announce his arrival.
“No, so go away.” My glasses click on the desk before I return them to my face and fake being busy. I am not in the mood for him today.
“Tough shit.” I nearly give myself whiplash with the force I use to pop my head up to the door. Paige strolls into my office right behind Parker and his goofy as hell grin. She glances around the room, to avoid looking at me. A chill follows them into the room and it has nothing to do with the actual temperature of the building or my office.
Standing, I smooth down my vest. My eyes never break from her, pleading with her to just look at me.
“May I help you two?”
“Sit back down, bro.” Parker falls into one of the client seats opposite my desk while Paige continues to stand. Taking my seat once more, I feel a tad bit confused.
Why are they both here?
Parker’s grin is a dirty one. You know the type. It makes your skin crawl with the purpose that lingers behind it.
“What are you two up to?” Is it odd I’ve only been around these two together on a handful of occasions?
Trust me, this is just … weird.
“May I say what a badass you look like today, Ax.” My brow jets up, skeptical of anything coming out of Parker’s mouth. “Seriously, the suit makes you look fierce, and with the sleeves rolled up flashing your tatted, muscular arms, you look like a complete badass.”
Hold on a moment!
Seriously? Fierce? Did I just hear him correctly or has someone been spiking the Kool-Aid? No man—and I’m sorry—but no fucking man ever should call another fierce. It’s just wrong.
My eyes pinch, a look I learned from my father as well to put someone in their place. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have any effect on Parker.
“Did you come here to tell me that? Both of you?” Paige’s eyes roll; her posture remains stiff with her arms crossed under her fabulous tits. I turn my head back to Parker who is making himself more than comfortable in his seat.
He jerks a thumb at his sister. “I’m not sure why she is here, but I wanted to pay you a visit.” There is a grin kids get when their mum or dad asks to take a picture with their birthday cake, and that’s the one Parker is wearing now. “I wasn’t sure if you two were still fucking, so I wanted to invite you to party with me and some of my lady friends at our big party.”
“I—”
“Asshole, get the fuck out of here now!” Paige’s wild eruption shocks both of us men sitting. “You followed me up here, so find something to do or someone to bug the fuck out of.” Her booted foot slams into the back of the chair, violently setting it back down on all fours and sending Parker’s chest into my desk.
I cringe and wait for the fight to break out.
“And there is my answer.” With a smug look still on his face, Parker stands, bows to his sister, and waves over his head to me as he walks out. When the door slams behind him, the grinding of Paige’s teeth breaks the silence.
“I want to put a boot in his face most days, but then I remember …” She trails off, working her jaw again before looking back at me. Her impassive yet penetrating stare causes me to fidget. Guilt eats away at me. I accused her of something I’m still not certain I did or not. Megan came over last night to talk to me, and between the two of us, we still couldn’t remember a single thing.
None of it makes any fucking sense. I didn’t mix my drinks. I only stuck to beer, so it wouldn’t have been nearly enough for me not to remember waking up and seeing it was Megan and not dream Paige. The only conclusion I can draw is Megan came into my room in her own drunken waste to fuck me and saw a willing and hard body of a man who was dreaming about another woman.
Megan had no truthful answers for me. She claimed she had finished my beer, and with her light weight, passed out on the couch where Levi and Jax left her. Jax agreed to that part but was helpless afterward.
“Will you stop that?” Paige’s fists slam onto my desk top, shaking everything on it. She draws back, her arms returning to their prior position. “Fucking hell, Oz. Sometimes I wonder who the woman is in this connection.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I may be the one with a pussy, but you’re the one acting like one.” She’s threatening my manhood, and I’m gaping like a fucking fish out of the water. Standing, my chair slides backward and into the wall.
“What the fuck, Paige?” Her glare turns into a deep scowl, forcing her brows to knit together. Her posture tells me everything I need to know. She’s fucking livid.
“Will you just get over it?” She rounds my desk. “You accuse me of fucking around, so what if I was?” Her nail pokes me in the chest. “We aren’t in a relationship, Oz.”
“And what if I want to be?”
She takes a step back. “It would be for the best if you go find the little sweetheart you can’t seem to recall fucking.” Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned to read Paige’s expressions in her eyes. She covers her emotions and true feelings too well. I have a difficult time getting a true reading from them, but as I look into her eyes now, I see something fading from them. “Go back to what you know and forget about someone you think you lov—”
Like watching glass slowly melt, everything about Paige’s appearance changes, altering into something I saw the very first time we met. There is steel in her gaze that wasn’t there before. Her body posture is back to guarded and distant like it was when she stormed into the meeting room.
“What’s the matter with wanting something together, Paige?” My hands wrap around her upper arms. I feel the stiffness in her muscles, the goose bumps that riddled her flesh and the coolness to the touch where it would normally be heated. “Paige, talk to me.” I push her bangs from her face. It’s a surefire way to piss her off and get her out of this stupor. “There is something between us; don’t you want to see where it could lead?”
Taking a deep breath, she finally moves her eyes meet mine. They are locked down, void of any of the emotions I once saw in them. She moves her shoulders to break free from my hold and backs away.
“You need to come with me.” Walking away, she looks over her shoulder. “That’s why I came up here. There is something you need to do, and it’s long overdue.”
“Paige, let’s talk instead.”
“I don’t want to fucking talk!” I’m taken aback by her snapping at me. Volatile is not an emotion I have seen with Paige, at least not directed at me. “Quit being a pussy bitch and come with me.”
“Now wait a tit.” She takes off, and I’m left to follow her. She heads to the stairs rather than the lift. Wise on her behalf. I can’t ask her questions because I’m too busy keeping up with her. Our feet thunder down the stairs until we reach the ground floor, and without slowing, Paige takes off to the moto garage.
My longer stride helps me keep pace with her. The garage is completely empty when we enter it, but it doesn’t faze Paige. She makes her way over to the lockers and pulls out some much larger gear.
“Put these on.” She thrusts them into my arms, but before she can turn to get gear out of her own locker, I push them back.
“Not fucking happening.”
“Yes, it is fucking happening.” She pushes them back.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not fucking doing it.”
“Yes, you fucking are!” She shoves them back into my arms and slams the clothes and guards into my chest with finality. “I don’t give a shit what excuse you are going to tell me that you’ve been telling yourself for years, but you are riding the fucking bike.”
Turning back around, she strips off her clothes and pulls on her gear, leaving me to watch with a pile of gear I never wanted to wear again.
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br /> “I … can’t.” The fear is prominent in my voice. “I—”
“Axle.” My name is more of an exacerbation than a plea. “Put the shit on and then those boots.” She points at a pair that seemed to have materialized from thin air. “You’re riding one of Parker’s.”
“I—”
“It will be for your own good.” This woman loves to cut me off and apparently blindside me with this shit. Hope, confidence, and understanding are the only things that leave her expression and shoot right through me.
I can’t do this for myself.
I’ve tried.
But I can try for her. I could prove to her I’m not the pussy bitch she seems to think I am now. I could show her I’m a man worthy of her and her unique way of looking at life. I can do this for Jax, too. I let the wreck that took this life from him happen, but never once was he negative about it. Instead, he overcame his own struggles and has been by my side, cheering me on to go back to a life I loved.
I get out of my suit and slide into the comfortable clothes I used to wear almost daily. They feel and fit me perfectly and smell new. There is no way she was pulling these out of Parker’s locker.
She bought these new for me. The clothes, the guards, the boots—all of it brand new and made for my size. I walk to the bike she told me I would be riding and take a seat on it. It’s felt like a lifetime since I’ve been on one. Putting my hands on the grips, I squeeze and try to put my mind in the here and now and keep it out of the past.
“Well?” My eyes slowly open. Paige is watching me from her own bike and handing me a helmet. “Let’s remember.” Once I have the red and black helmet, which matches the rest of my clothing, Paige twists the throttle and takes off, leaving a rooster tail of shop dirt gliding to my face.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Let it go.
Let it fade away.
Do away with the past and hold the future.
Don’t hold it anymore.
Bad memories cast away.
Be gone satanic horrors of my past.
You can’t hold me anymore. This is my life, and I’m going to do this. I’m going to ride this bike; today, tomorrow, and even when I’m an old man, I will ride bikes again. Quit being the giant arse pussy you pretend not to be and start the motherfucking bike.
Do it for Jax.
Do it for Paige.
Fucking hell, Axle Ryan, do it for yourself and the joy, the complete happiness it once brought you.
Keeping my breathing even, I start the bike and let the vibrations between my legs flow freely through my body. I don’t allow myself to tense up. I can’t; I’ll never get out of the garage if I let that happen.
“I can do this.” My head rolls with a heavier weight thanks to the helmet. The goggles fit perfectly just like the rest of the gear. Paige flies by the opened garage and the burrrp of her engines riles me.
“Let’s do this.” I shout at myself as I kick the stand up and take off; steadily and slowly out of the garage. Paige is already on the track, but I need to get a feel for this bike before I join her.
I take off, going back and forth on the cement that runs the span of all the garages in this branch of the complex. Patiently, I make it seven passes before I start to feel more confident. Even though I’m paying attention to what I’m doing, I still watch Paige on the track. The small tricks she lands on the track jumps and the way she moves on the track help me to release my remaining nerves and the tension I was holding.
Like a light switch being flipped from off for what feels like a lifetime, everything comes back to me. My grip becomes more confident. My posture goes back to a natural, comfortable spot on top of the bike. I close my eyes and revel in the feeling of this freedom.
Revving the bike, I spun my back tire and skid across the cement; my right foot stays fastened to the ground before I bring the bike back upright and rip my way over to the track. I pull in right as Paige is adding another lap to her run. She does a quick check over her shoulder and then focuses back in front of her. I stay right behind her for several laps before I finally get the balls to do some small jumps and pass her.
She doesn’t make it easy for me. She maintains the lead after many of my attempts until I finally get past her and take off, opening the throttle and tearing my way around the track.
A true smile—spreading from ear to ear—spans my face. I don’t care about the dirt I am getting in my mouth; the slight taste of it converting to mud when it lands on my tongue is welcome. I take each turn and obstacle like I’ve done it a million times before. In truth, I should have walked the track first to see every detail of the dirt, but I feel as if I don’t need to. Like the home track I rode daily back home, this track feels as if I’ve been a part of it for years.
Every day since I’ve come to work here, I’ve been looking down at this track. I’ve watched Paige practice on it and Parker working on his jumps. I learned every detail from watching her to staring down at the dirt when no one was on it.
Paige zips past me on the straightaway. I let myself slow down while thinking too much. I need to forget about everything off this dirt and just enjoy this.
We fight back and forth for the lead, lap after lap, until I have no feeling left in my body, and my face hurts from the smile that doesn’t want to leave my face.
But I’m not finished.
No, not even close.
Paige reads my mind, guiding me over to the ramps Parker uses and speeds up into a run. She does a back flip, and once she lands, she pulls away far enough away, stopping to wait for me.
Shaking my arms, shoulders, and hands loose, I take off for my own run. Like with racing around the track, I don’t want to push myself here either. I get up to speed and jump from the ramp. I don’t try anything the same caliber as what Paige just did. Instead, I do a fender kiss and land the bike soundly on the other side.
My body does a slight bounce with the landing. Descending, I pull up to a stop right next to Paige. Her helmet is off, resting on her lap with her gloved fingers drumming the top of it.
“Well, do you feel better?”
I follow suit, removing my helmet and replicating her by setting it on my lap. The hot Utah wind whips around us, making dirt devils and blowing through our hair as we sit on our bikes in the dirt.
It has been far too long since I’ve felt this calm. Pressures I’ve put on myself since the last day I got on a bike feel distant. I got back on a bike and didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t cause something to happen to myself or Paige.
Sure, it is nothing like having more riders on the track at the same time. But still, that wreck was from a rookie mistake, not mine. I see that now. Better than ever, I fully understand what Jax, Levi, my parents, and even my sister were trying to tell me.
It wasn’t my fault.
It was just an accident, like many that took place before and will continue well after. I did my best to make my friend’s life easier after I thought it was taken from him. My own self-pity blinded me. Jax has been living since the day he got the all clear, and even before that when he woke on the way to the hospital. He forced a smile the day they told him he would never walk again, but even then, he didn’t give up.
He put up with my grouchy arse for years to come. He cheered me up when I fucked up again and slept with Candy. When I thought I was doing my best to be a good friend and help him in life, Jax was doing all that for me.
I tear my eyes from the track, the jumps, and the Piston Motor Sports complex to look at Paige. A light layer of dirt and sweat coat her face. She too looks relaxed, like the ride released something for her as well. The guarded look is still there, but it has softened.
“That was incredible.” A deep belly laugh explodes from me just as the wind picks up a little more. “It was completely freeing. Thank you.” The genuine gratitude makes me feel as if I’m telling Paige I love her rather than just thanking her for pushing me into this.
She flips her shiny long hair over her shoulde
r and shrugs. “I knew it would. Now, come on. I can’t keep Parker from the track much longer. He’ll want to know what we are doing.”
She starts the bike once more, and I follow. We put the bikes back in their places, and I’m left to wonder where everyone is.
“Where did everyone go?”
Paige begins to change out of her riding gear to put her tiny arse shorts and black top back on. “I sent them away for a nice lunch to give us some privacy.”
“Oh?”
She turns to me, only clad in her bra and shorts, and wearing an ‘are you stupid’ expression. “Did you want them all to watch you as you got your balls back, or do you prefer to do it in private?”
Scratching the back of my head, I shake it. “No.”
“Okay then.” She turns back and begins to pull her top on. Her phoenix flaps as her shoulder blades move and the angels dance along her sides until black covers them once more.
“Go out on a date with me.”
What the fuck!
I know how she feels about a relationship that is more than just sex, so why in the fucking hell did I just say that shit?
I wield my eyes closed; cursing myself for the stupid fucker I am when she laughs. I blame the adrenaline rush coursing through my body for my outburst.
“No.”
My eyes pop open as well as my mouth. It isn’t like I asked her to marry me or some shit like that, but the rejection is still here. And it tastes worse than a piss warm beer.
“But …” She steps into my space, walking her fingers up my breast plate, and cupping my rough cheek. “You can buy me dinner tonight. Say six at the Naked Fish?”
Japanese bistro? That’s what she wants to eat?