by Shey Stahl
Birthplace: Canoga Park, CA
Residence: Anaheim, CA
Height: 6’0
Weight: 170 lbs
Turned Pro: 1994
National Number: 00
Bio: Parker O’Neil, a California native, is a racer known for his early Motocross success in the AMA 125cc/Lites Outdoor National Motocross series. At fourteen, he dominated the series and was in contention for the series title when he lost his factory ride for engaging in unsportsmanlike conduct. He’s back now racing for Yamaha after Wesley Cameron was injured with something to prove in the AMA 125 Lites West Coast Supercross series racing.
I wondered how he was doing with being back in the spotlight, if he had fears, if women were throwing themselves at him. I wondered how he was dealing with Dusty and if Kayla was around.
Eventually, I logged off and went about my life or tried too. I felt not only sad by his departure but ashamed at how just because of him I let everything else in my life slip away. I didn’t talk to friends, not that I had all that many. I avoided questions from my parents, and most of all, I wasn’t there for my best friend who was in love. Just because I couldn’t have what I wanted, I acted like a child. Talk about being a horrible person.
January 26, 1998
When I least expected it, after Parker’s win in round four at Oakland, I got a call.
“Rowan, the phone is for you.” My mom called from the bottom of the stairs. My eyes burned from staring at the screen all day as I tried to finish up my homework before finals.
I blinked, focusing on the phone sitting next to me.
“Hello?” I asked, picking it up thinking it was Addy asking me to tag along with her and Justin again. Immediately, I was already trying to think of my next lie to her.
“Rowan?” A beautifully flowing soft murmur came over the line. No one said my name the way he did.
My heart was in my throat immediately. “Parker?”
“Yeah,” was all he said before I heard a deep sigh.
The line cracked a few times, and I briefly thought maybe we got disconnected. Then I heard him breathing lightly. He seemed hesitant, scared, or maybe depressed. Despite not wanting to give in, I did. “Are you okay?”
“No, I miss you,” he said. “I’m not okay. Far from that actually.” His voice was desperate, just as desperate as I had been holding on to something I thought I’d never hear from again.
You see despite the way I acted, I never wanted him to leave. I wanted him to take me with him, or worse, stay. I would have hated myself if he gave up his dream, but it didn’t stop me from being selfish.
I also didn’t want to let him know freaking miserable I had been. “I miss you too,” I said, playing it cool.
“I need to see you,” was his next response. “I wanna see you again.”
“I…uh…what?” Clear, unbroken words were not possible. “I thought…”
“I don’t care what you thought...” he cut me off “...come see me. If I buy you a ticket...” he paused for a moment his breathing seemed rushed “...can you come see me in Anaheim?”
I think I was quiet for a good three minutes, maybe longer when he added, “Please…”
I felt myself slipping back into him, wanting to make him happy. It didn’t matter that he didn’t call. I was ready to jump on a plane right then.
“I don’t know that my dad will let me out of school for that long.” Again, I tried to play it cool.
“Sure he will,” my mom interrupted. I didn’t know she was even listening, but I also wasn’t that surprised.
“Mom,” I sighed only slightly annoyed. I could never really get mad at her. “Please hang up.”
“Hi, Parker,” she said, cheerful as always. “How are you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Jensen,” Parker replied kindly with a chuckle. “I’m doing good…just missing your daughter.”
Of course he had to add that.
“Okay, Mom, hang up.”
“Bye, Parker, good luck in NASCAR.”
I laughed and heard Parker sigh when I did, as though he’d been waiting on that laugh for months. “It’s Supercross, Mom.”
“Oh, with those bikes, right?”
“Yes, Mom. Parker races bikes.”
“Do you want ice cream later?”
“Sure.” I laughed again, wondering if Parker was finding this amusing or if he was annoyed.
“All right,” she said, and I heard the click of her hanging up the line, finally relieved.
“Ro?” Parker asked softly, the words flowing beautifully as they always had.
I missed him calling me Ro…I missed it a lot. “Yeah?”
“So Anaheim?”
“Yeah, I’ll come.” I agreed, giving into the excited feeling warming me at the thought of seeing him again. “How will I get to your house?” I knew I couldn’t rent a car since I was only eighteen, and I wasn’t exactly wild about taking a cab.
“I’m not living in Anaheim anymore,” he told me. “I’m renting an apartment in Long Beach with Kurt.”
“Oh.”
“How about I pick you up from the airport?” he paused, but before I could answer he said, “I’ll get the ticket and let you know the times.”
And that was that.
Two days later, I was flying to Long Beach to see Parker after he called and talked to my dad for a half an hour.
January 30, 1998
The day came when I left for Anaheim and my dad gave me a ride to the airport that morning. He didn’t say much other than, “Be careful.”
He wasn’t a man of many words and left most of my decisions up to me. In a way, I both hated and loved this side of my parents, but I understood why they did that.
My heart was in my throat, my palms were sweaty, and I wished like hell I had time to put on more deodorant when I spotted Parker standing near the baggage claim waiting for me.
His eyes were on the screen above him watching the flight times. It gave me a chance to look at him first before he saw me.
He looked the same but different in some ways. My memory of him hadn’t gotten anything wrong. He was still beautiful even through my adolescent adoration. With the same tall build and broad shoulders, he stance was familiar, his hands buried in his pockets.
Parker turned his head when he was bumped from behind and smiled politely when the lady apologized to him.
Then his eyes flickered to the right and found me standing about twenty feet from him.
I was nearly shaking with nerves trying to anticipate what we would say to each other.
That was when I took in the rest of his appearance. His white Yamaha hat was pulled down low on his head, shadowing his eyes, but I saw the grin when he spotted me. Parker looked the same but his once pale skin had been tinted with a nice golden tan. His normally dark hair was lighter, almost coppery under some lights.
And then I saw the eyes, aqua blue, offset by the white in his Yamaha Racing T-shirt. My memories of them didn’t do the color justice.
From the moment I saw him, nothing else mattered. I didn’t care that he didn’t call for months. I didn’t care that I dropped my entire life for a boy. It was him. I did it for him.
Wrapped tightly in his arms, his head bent forward resting against my shoulder. “I missed you,” he whispered and squeezed tighter. “Fuck have I missed you, Ro.”
Hearing him call me that again was the spark that ignited my nerves and reminded me just how deeply in love with him I really was. My hands instinctively gravitated to his shoulders, the warmth comfortable and familiar.
I let out a whimper, overwhelmed by everything, but said nothing as he led me towards the elevators. Reaching down, he grabbed my bag and easily threw it over his shoulder. His hand found mine.
I didn’t say anything when he grabbed it. My heart beating out of my chest was too distracting.
Parker was quiet, as was I, but he did manage to keep one hand on me at all times. My flight arrived late and I was starving, surprisingly. Parker noticed. “
You wanna get some food and then we can go back to my apartment?”
I nodded but said nothing, my eyes on his hand which was now on my thigh, as if we had never parted.
It was a strange feeling, one of mixed emotions and jumbled thoughts. I guess I wasn’t sure how our reunion would be after close to four months apart, but each of us attempted to judge the others thoughts, both hesitant, both careful. Very few words were spoken through dinner, other than talk of his racing and the shop back home. When he spoke about his riding and how he was doing in the series, his passion for it took over and I could feel the intensity of it.
When our conversations would grow quiet and I would think nothing more would be said, it made me wonder why he wanted me to come, but then again, Parker was shy and conversations weren’t always easy for him.
Deep down I knew this wasn’t going to be something where we just landed in bed and back to the relationship we had. I didn’t know what this relationship was or if it was even a relationship anymore.
After dinner we made our way back to the apartment he shared with Kurt, all the while my mind racing with his expectations.
Standing outside in the warm California night, I could feel the hot swells of moisture rolling in bringing with it a storm. The air smelled like rain, reminding me of home, but this place was very different. We were very different from the way we were back home. I glanced around the exotic landscaping and starry night and thought about what would happen once we were inside this very apartment. Would we talk or would we let our bodies talk?
I tried not to let him know how much his presence and the fact that I was here with him again affected me. Parker seemed to notice, his gaze curious as he looked over his shoulder.
Forcing a smile, I winked at him because the action seemed necessary. He smiled, his eyes boring into mine, and unlocked the door, pushed it open, and then motioned with a dip of his head for me to follow.
Even though I could barely see him, I could hear him breathing beside me. He reached out and flipped the switch on the wall but nothing happened. He laughed and shook his head. “Something is always breaking in this shit hole.”
He guided me down a dark hallway that led to what I assumed was the living room where two large windows overlooked the beach. Against the wall was a brown leather couch directly across from a large television that was located on the floor. Scattered along the floor were magazines, clothes, beer cans, and a pizza box.
Parker noticed me looking around. “Sorry about the mess. Kurt never picks up anything. It’s like he’s trying to leave a trail to find his way back to his room.” He gave a nod down the other hallway to his right and sure enough that was where the trail led to—the last door on the left.
Parker cleared his throat. “Do you want some water?”
“Sure.”
To our left was a galley kitchen, on the right a tiny bathroom. He reached inside the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water then gave me a nod to follow him down the hall as we stepped over the mess Kurt had left.
His hand found mine and led me inside his room that was very similar to the arrangement he had in Shelton with just a bed, television, dresser, and night stand. There were no photos or artwork, but there was a picture of him blown up as he soared through the air at his first Supercross victory.
I could feel Parker behind me, watching and waiting to see what I would say and do. I could feel his breath on my neck and then his lips, like a whisper, against my skin.
Like a magnet, we were drawn here together, wanting and being what we were forced to be. Living and breathing for a moment when we could be what we were with each other.
Turning around, I faced him. He leaned in and I leaned forward too, his eyes holding a certain amount of pain and desire I knew very well.
I wasn’t sure who moved first, maybe we both did, but the space between us closed up and Parker let out a shaky exhale through his nose the second we connected. It was so full of tension and desire, I felt like it burned my skin.
The first moment was hesitant, just us holding still, lips on lips. As Parker’s fingers found the skin on my hips sneaking under my shirt, his mouth moved over mine, and I responded at once. First it was hot and needy. His lips soft and subtle, he opened his mouth, and I opened mine. Then it was a movement of tongues and gasping and moaning, but what really got to me was his moaning and grunting. His hands slid higher and pulled me forward, my chest against his. My hands that were on his shoulders moved to his hair, threading it between my fingers.
His fingers dug into my hips, and I could feel every fingertip. I wanted to raise my legs and wrap them around his waist or maybe just crawl inside of him to get as close as I could. Instead, I kissed him harder, pouring as much emotion as I could into those kisses.
Parker responded, kissing me as if he had been waiting on our kiss to breathe. It was sometimes soft and absolutely devastating. Then it was hard and desperate, and I felt like he might die without my kiss. I felt it in every inch of him that was touching me. He wanted this.
His hands moved from my hips to cradle the back of my head and then pushed my hair to the side. His mouth moved from my own with a gasp and then to my neck.
With a sigh I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, letting him have contact with his lips, his tongue, and teeth all over my skin. I let him take what he wanted, giving any part of myself to him that I could.
I hung on desperately, wrapping both my arms tight around his shoulders, pulling myself right against his chest. We moved, colliding against the wall and then the bed.
“I’ve thought about you every day, Ro.” Parker’s warm intoxicating breath blew across my face as he hovered over me on the bed now, and it was if we had never been apart. My legs were gripping his hips, the rough fabric of his jeans scraping the sensitive skin of my upper thighs.
His hand left my leg and gripped the back of my neck angling my face better for what he wanted. And I wanted him to take it. I hung on for months waiting for this, and now I gave myself to him again, whatever he wanted.
Lying on his bed, we were still fully clothed, but I knew that wasn’t going to last long. I felt that burn in my gut and the tingle between my legs anticipating his next move. The insecure part of me wondered how many girls over the last few months had experienced this very same feeling he was giving me.
How many girls slept in this very bed?
How many girls had he whispered the same sweet words to?
It wasn’t long before his large hands moved up my body and his lips found mine. Leaning in, I took anything he offered because I wanted this just as badly. I missed him just as much.
Parker moved, his legs nudging mine apart before his head dipped down to my ear. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, settling between my naked legs. “I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I asked you to come.”
“Yes,” I moaned, just as his mouth clamped down on mine. “I want you…I want this.”
“Thank God…” He breathed in relief, his weight crashing against me. His mouth and tongue showed me in eager kisses that he couldn’t slow down, and I didn’t want him to.
Everything about today seemed somewhat awkward, but it also seemed right. Now that we were together again, we let our bodies speak for us. Just like the rain back home, it was natural and something you could sense just by the changes in wind. You knew it, prepared for it, and over time, became accustomed to it as though it was just a part of the day.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Parker was a natural part of me.
And maybe rain wasn’t exactly a good example, but it was all I could come up with when he was close like that.
Either way, we were together for now. He didn’t forget what I enjoyed either, what sent me over the edge, and I didn’t forget that when I arched into him he’d pull himself closer.
My body burned for him. I wanted him in ways I’d never want another.
“Christ, Rowan,” he grunted, his hands flying to my hips to
slow my movements. “Slow down…it’s been a while.”
“I know,” I said into his shoulder, shaking. I wasn’t shaking from the pleasure, though there was that. I was shaking because I was scared. Those jumbled thoughts had me wanting to tell him how much I loved him. They wanted to beg him to stay here with me and forget about everything else the world wanted from either of us.
“Do you honestly know?” he asked, looking at me with curiosity, his blue burning into me. He slowed his movements. “Do you know that you’re the only one for me? Do you know how bad it hurts me to be away from you?”
I didn’t say anything. Once again, I said nothing. He confessed his love in not so many words to me, again, and I said nothing.
Sometimes I thought it was better not to ask and keep the situation what it was. I felt like if I asked and the answer wasn’t what I wanted, it would crush me. Then I would be left with more heartache than I already had. I would be left with devastation. Just because we had something now didn’t meant that I wouldn’t walk away if I found out there was someone else who had taken my place. By not asking, I didn’t have to force myself away. It was a shitty way to look at it but I did.
In his arms, feeling his weight, I wondered if he too was just getting by until we saw each other again, but then again, that answer may not have been what I wanted to hear either, so I didn’t ask.
CHAPTER 14
Rowan Jensen
Traffic
Being in traffic is a situation in which a rider encounters a group of other bikes, usually back markers, and is finding it difficult to get past.
January 31, 1998
I had to pee, badly. I wasn’t expecting was to run into Kurt when I went to the bathroom across the hall from Parker’s room. Kurt smiled, his eyes widened only a fraction of inch, but his grin slipped into a full smile when he saw me wearing Parker’s shirt. “Well good morning, sweetheart. Fun night?”
Nodding, I danced past him to the bathroom, went pee, and then he was still standing there smiling. Parker’s bedroom door was open, and I could see him on his stomach, the sheets pooling around his waist.
We both stood there for a moment before he chuckled. “Nice to see you again.”