by Amy Sparling
Me: I have a problem…
Park: What? Are you okay?
Me: No…
My phone rings. Leave it to Park to insist on having important conversations on the phone. I answer and try not to laugh. “Hello?”
“Babe, are you okay? What happened?”
“Calm down, it’s nothing big,” I say with a smile. “I just have this little problem.”
“And what is that?”
“My boyfriend won’t answer the door.”
All I can hear are shuffling sounds and then the heavy footfalls of Park running down the wooden staircase. The front door clicks and then swings wide open. Park takes one look at me, my bag of food, and the lopsided grin on my face. Then he swoops me into his arms.
My bag drops to the floor just inside of the living room. I squeal. He buries his lips into the crook of my neck and kisses me repeatedly, making me laugh uncontrollably. Then he pulls away and kisses me on the lips, right where I need him to kiss.
“I missed you,” he whispers, cupping my face in his hands. Before I can tell him that I missed him too, he crushes his lips over mine and slides his hands down my body, gripping me around the waist. I grab his shoulders, digging my fingers into him as he pulls me closer to him.
When I come up for air, he pulls me up, up, up, until I’m eye level with him and my feet are hanging in the air. I wrap them around his waist and he slides his hands into my back pockets, holding me firmly against his chest. My toes tingle and my heart races and forehead presses against his. “I missed you too,” I whisper.
“The more time I spend with you the more I know I can’t live without you.”
I smile, too love-drunk to bother saying anything. Instead of talking, I just grip his shoulders and lean into him, soaking up every second of this moment. My eyes close and he moves, carrying me with him. When I feel a step, I lift up and open my eyes. “Where are we go—Park!” I wriggle but he holds me tighter. “Oh my God, you can’t walk up stairs with me.”
He smirks. “Why not?”
“I’m too heavy!” It would be entirely too embarrassing if my weight made us both tumble down the stairs.
Park makes this arrogant snort as we round the corner of the staircase halfway up to the second floor. “You are nowhere near being too heavy, miss.”
When we get to his bedroom, he lowers me onto the bed. Only he doesn’t have a real bed yet, so it’s an air mattress. At least he’s had time to put a new set of sheets on top of it. I’m pretty sure my heart is pounding so hard that it’s nearing the point of exploding, but I take a deep breath and run my fingers through Park’s hair as he hovers over me.
Moments like this are so powerful, so full of love and bliss and an insane amount of adrenaline. We make out, lips crashing together, tongues grazing, bodies pressed together. I don’t even realize when my hands have slid so far up Park’s shirt that he leans back and pulls it off his head, tossing it to the floor.
Slowly, he lowers back down, bracing himself above me with his hands on the bed on either side of my head. This position makes his biceps look freaking huge and his chest—well his chest is always perfect. I can’t help myself when my fingers trail over his abs, up to his chest and then back down again.
“I love you,” I say.
“Are you talking to me or my abs?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Both.”
“I’m cool with that.” He kisses me again, and my hands find their way around his waist and up his back. Every movement that brings him closer to me, makes me the warmth in my stomach turn to fire.
Park leans on one hand and slides the other one up my shirt, slowly, purposely. I get chills at the touch of his warm hand over my skin. He rests his thumb and index finger just under my bra, and then he makes eye contact with me and rubs his thumb over my breast. I squirm in the best way possible and pull him closer to me, digging my hips upward into his.
“Mmm,” Park groans. I bite my lip and pull him down to me, kissing him harder than before. The next thing I know, my shirt is gingerly pulled over my head and tossed on top of the other shirt on the floor.
Exposed, I feel a wave of nervous excitement and then immediately blush when Park doesn’t hide the fact that he’s checking out my body. Even though I still have a bra on, I can’t help but squirm. He holds me in place and leans down, kissing the top of my breast and then moving to the other one, trailing soft kisses over my skin. He leans back, sitting on his heels as he straddles me. He dips his thumbs into the waistband of my jeans and slides them across my hips. The sensation makes me gasp as a rolling tingle of pleasure settles in my stomach. Then, instead of going lower, his hands—his warm amazing hands—slide up my stomach and cup my breasts. He squeezes them and kisses my cleavage, grinding his hips into mine.
“Oh my god,” I moan, throwing my head back and grinding back into him.
“Do you…” Park says, his voice raspy between his ragged breathing. “Do you want to…?”
“What?” I ask a second before the answer comes tumbling down on me like a pile of bricks. He’s talking about sex. My throat dries up and the uncomfortable panic I feel must show in my face because Park climbs off of me and rolls over on the air mattress.
“It’s okay, baby.” He brushes a hand through my hair. “We don’t have to.”
“I want to, I just…” I swallow and try to think of the right words. I mean, does he even have protection? Should I bring some next time? Isn’t it supposed to hurt? Ugh. I can’t say any of that out loud.
Park places a kiss on my forehead. “We can take our time. There’s no rush.”
“Thanks,” I manage to say even though my throat has totally dried up and my heart is no longer beating. Embarrassment fills every inch of my body. “I’m sorry, I—”
Park shakes his head. “No. No sorry, no regret. It’s just sex, babe. We’ll do it when you’re ready.”
I sigh and look away, unable to say anything because I’m so freaking embarrassed. Maybe I should just be single for the rest of my life so I’ll never have to feel this way again. I bet he’s never been denied before—not with other girls. California girls. Girls who aren’t me.
Chapter 10
Work is swamped with BMX kids the next day. I don’t know if it’s because we were closed yesterday, but today we have at least twice as many riders as normal. It’s also getting colder outside, now that it’s November so people are probably finding indoor activities to do instead of face the cold. Whatever the case, I can’t even take a coffee break until noon. And at noon, I no longer want coffee. I want lunch.
“Ollllllie,” I whine, slumping across the front counter as if I’m in the middle of acting out an elaborate death scene. “I’m hungryyyy.”
“So go to lunch!” he says, appearing from his office which is off to the side of the front desk. “You’ve been busy all morning, you could use a break.”
I stand up and frown. “Yeah, but look around. It’s way too busy to leave. I can’t leave you here all by yourself.”
“Sure you can. I’ll survive.”
I sigh, glance at the coffee maker in his office and then back out at the massive BMX park behind me. Maybe I could just power up on caffeine and skip lunch, or take a late lunch if it ever does slow down. Or… “Hey, let’s just order pizza and have them deliver it.”
Ollie glances over at me, taking his eyes off of the spreadsheet on his computer for the first time all morning. “Now that’s a good idea.”
“Sweet,” I say, feeling as if I’ve solved some epic world problem. “I’ll order pizza.”
I spin around from Ollie’s office to the front desk, where I grab the business phone before I look up at the customer that just walked in.
“No need to order pizza,” the customer says. Wait. That’s not a customer.
I drop the phone and scurry around the front counter, where Park awaits, bags of takeout food in his hands. “Babe!” I squeal, throwing my arms around him. He can’t hug me back beca
use his hands are full, but he leans his head on mine in what can be considered an armless hug. “Why are you here? I thought you were busy today?”
After I had gone home last night, Park and I stayed up on the phone for another hour and he had explained that although he had exciting news to tell me about what he and Jace had been up to lately, he couldn’t share it with me until after today. Today was a big deal and he said he’d probably be busy until late in the afternoon. The curiosity has been killing me, but after your boyfriend quits his professional career, moves across the country and buys a house, pretty much nothing else he does can be considered surprising.
Park sets the bags on the counter and leans over it to wave at Ollie from the opening of his office door. “Ol, I brought Chinese food.”
My boss lets out a whoop because we all know he loves Chinese food. Park gives me a look of enthusiasm, and although he’s not actually bouncing on his heels like a child on Christmas morning, the look in his eyes says he’s just as excited.
“What is it?” I ask, peering up at him suspiciously. “You’re here when you’re supposed to be busy, and you’re smiling like you have…” I take a guess, “Good news?”
He nods, biting his lower lip. “Very good news.”
I lift an eyebrow. “How good?”
“Well, let’s just say it makes up for quitting my job.”
Park joins me behind the front counter and we dig into our food. Luckily, it’s finally getting slow at work so I don’t have to do that weird shuffle of pretending I’m not eating when customers come inside. I open a container of eggrolls. “Okay, now that my stomach is no longer trying to eat itself, tell me about this good news.”
Park smiles and stares at me for a weirdly long time. “I think it’s good news. I hope you do, too.”
“Okay, now I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared. It’s just a lot. Jace and I are taking on a lot of stuff here and I want you to be cool with it because I want us to be cool.”
“We are cool,” I say. “As a cucumber.”
“Oh my God, you’re a dork.”
I point my half-eaten eggroll at him. “Tell me the news!”
He takes a deep breath and stands a little straighter. “Well…since Jace got kicked out of professional racing, he’s been working at Mixon Motocross Park giving lessons to other riders.”
“I know this, but what does it have to do with you?” I ask, a bit impatiently.
“And now that I’ve quit, I’ve been thinking that teaching young riders all of my amazing knowledge would be a fun thing.”
“Have you actually worked with kids?” I interject, tossing a look over my shoulder to indicate the kids on BMX bikes behind us. “Kids kind of suck.”
He shakes his head. “Not motocross kids. Anyhow, Mixon is a little too small for Jace to keep doing this as a full time job, and they’re a racing track first of all so a lot of times the races are getting in his way of taking on new clients. And I need a job, so Jace and I have been collaborating on buying some land down here and opening a facility that’s just dedicated to training people in motocross. No races to get in the way.”
“Like a training camp?” I ask.
He nods. “We were thinking of having actual camps, too. Like in the summer, we could do a week-long camp where kids come to ride every day and practice their skills. We can teach hole shots, jumps, tricks, cornering—all kinds of stuff. It’ll keep me in the sport of motocross but I won’t have to travel anymore and I can stay here with you. Make a life with you.”
The last part he said sends chills down my spine. “I think this is a really great idea,” I say, temporarily ignoring that last thing he had said. Making a life with me implies too much, is too emotional, too important. But the job thing? That’s a good idea. “It’ll be really good for Jace, too since he has a family now. What does Mr. Fisher think about this?”
Mr. Fisher is the owner of Mixon Motocross Park and Jace’s boss. He’s been supportive of Jace so far in his career transition and I’m pretty sure it was his idea to hire Jace as a trainer at the track. Park smiles. “Mr. Fisher is totally on board. He wants to be an investor.”
“An investor? Wow. That’s fancy business talk,” I say, poking my boyfriend in the ribs. He grabs my hand and kisses it quickly before letting it go. “I know. It’s a big deal. That’s what Jace and I have been doing lately, getting all the business stuff in order. We’ve been looking at land and we found a great place that’s between Lawson and Mixon. It’s about sixteen acres and it has a pond in one corner of the land which would be great for watering the track.”
“Wow,” I say. “So…that’s where you went this morning?”
He nods. “We made an offer on the land. And they accepted our offer immediately.”
My eyes go wide. “Seriously? You just bought sixteen acres of land?”
“With Jace. We’re both half-owners. Mr. Fisher is lending us his equipment to rip up the land and build a few tracks and jumps for it. After a while, we’re hoping to earn enough money to buy our own tractors and stuff.”
“Park, this is a big deal,” I say, but it’s more of a thought to myself. Lately I’ve been thinking of expanding my art and trying to create a business for myself with it. Now Park is taking that leap himself, making a business out of something he loves. “It might be crazy, but I think it could work.”
“I think so, too.” Park stabs his fork into his rice and then takes both of my hands in his. “It’s risky and it’ll be a lot of hard work, but Jace and I have made names for ourselves in the motocross world. People know who we are and they know we’re skilled. I’ve already talked to dozens of amateur racers and their parents and these people are willing to pay to have professional racers teach their kids. But I need your support, babe.”
“Of course you have my support,” I say, lifting up on my toes and kissing him.
From the side office, I hear Ollie yell, “Gross!” but I know he’s just messing with us. I look back at him and stick out my tongue.
As soon as my work shift is over, I check my emails and find that I’ve sold six paintings in the last hour alone. I don’t even have to do the math to know that my piddly part-time hourly wages at C&C don’t even come close to what I’m earning with my paintings. If I were to quit my job and focus solely on my art, then I’d earn more than my paychecks are now.
Hell, I’m already earning more than my paychecks are now. I drive home and think about all of the things Park told me earlier today. He and his best friend are taking a leap, starting a company, and changing their destines. They want something and they’re going for it.
I’m battling my own career ideas, too. I hate college, I love my art. The choice should be simple. But I feel overwhelmingly guilty when I think about quitting college. Mom and dad would probably be pissed. Actually, scratch the probably. They would be totally pissed.
At a red light, I lean my head against the headrest in my car and stare at the roof. Why is being an adult so freaking hard? Why can’t I just throw caution to the wind and follow my dreams like Park and Jace are doing?
I’ve legally been an adult for two years now. But I don’t feel like one. I mean, I still live with my parents and I’m still a virgin. It seems like everything in life is going on, growing up and taking control of life while I’m just sitting here idly wishing I could do things but not actually doing any of them.
By the time I get home, I don’t feel any more empowered about my future.
In fact, I feel smaller than ever.
Chapter 11
I’ve just done something really stupid.
Last night, after wallowing in my own insecurities, I had stayed up until two in the morning making art. I painted every single canvas I had left, all fourteen of them. I spent an extra hour going through my quotes notebook and searching the internet for more inspiring things to paint on future canvasses. In my sleep-deprived state, and probably slightly high from all the paint fumes, I had made a deci
sion. I was going to quit college.
Mom was awake in the living room, binge-watching a show on Netflix that she’d recently become so obsessed with that she often stayed up late into the night watching more episodes. Armed with confidence and paint fumes, I had marched into the living room, looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Mom, I’m quitting college.”
She snorted and looked back at her television. “Get to sleep, Becca. You’ve lost your mind.”
I was so tired, I did what she said without complaint.
Now, it’s ten in the morning on a Wednesday. I shuffle down the hallway and into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal. I’m off work and school today since I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s a perfect day for lounging around and doing nothing.
Mom sits at the kitchen island eating some yogurt and reading the newspaper. “Good morning,” she says with a yawn.
“Hey.” It would be easy to continue on with my day acting as if everything is fine and pretending that last night didn’t happen. But that’s what the old Becca would do. I wasn’t out of my mind last night. I’ve never been more sure of something in my whole life.
If Jace and Park can quit their careers and start a business, then I can find it in me to quit college, which currently isn’t doing anything for my future and start up a business that is already earning good money. If I fail, then I fail. I can always go back to college. But I really want to try this out now, while Becca’s Inspirations are selling like crazy.
“Mom, can we talk?”
My mother’s eyes bulge as she sips her coffee quickly and then sets the coffee cup down with a clink. “Of course,” she says. I can see it now: her head is filling with all the horrors of what I could possibly say next. Mom, I’m pregnant. Mom, I’m in big trouble with the mafia. Mom, I totally crashed your car into a retirement home and killed a dozen nice old ladies.