Cycling Downhill: A Sweet Young Adult Romance (Love is a Triathlon Book 3)

by Chrissy Q Martin

  “Okay.” It’s another whisper from me. We’re not dating anymore. I inhale and hold my breath, thinking of another reason why Paul may have ended our relationship. Did he break up with me because of his mom?

  Paul stands and his chair makes a soft scuffing noise against the wood floor when it moves backwards. “Can I get you something to drink before we start?”

  “No, thanks,” I say. “I’m fine.”

  “Um, okay.” Paul seems nervous, and he sits next to me again, his hands in his lap.

  We need to begin somehow, and I reach for his laptop. “How about we start with a table for the types of bikes and the number of trials?”

  “Sure,” Paul says.

  I start creating a table in the document Paul has open on the laptop. I’m in my element now, having a plan and working on something I can control. As we work, I notice Paul inches his chair closer to mine. It may be because he wants to be closer to see the laptop between us, but I sense there’s another reason. A small flicker of hope ignites in me. I don’t let it die out, nor do I let it burn brighter. I need to keep moving forward and see where this tiny flame leads.

  We spend time working on the project, and I appreciate how Paul focuses on it. I’m trying to insert a graphic in the document, and I can’t get it to do what I want. Paul sees the trouble I’m having and puts his hand over mine on the wireless mouse.

  “Here.” Paul leans into me, his mouth next to my ear. “You need to do this.” His hand guides mine and I can’t deny the electric feeling running through me from my fingers to my toes.

  “Thanks,” I say and exhale when he sits up.

  “Who’s going to his cabin with you?” Paul still doesn’t say Dylan’s name if he can avoid it.

  “Um.” I stare at the screen of the laptop and squint. This is not the conversation I want to be having with Paul, especially since he and Dylan don’t get along. “Sabrina, Nick, Nora, and Taylor.”

  “Nick’s a good guy,” Paul says with an agreeable nod of his head. “And Sabrina seems to be a good fit for him.” Again, I know he’s talking about Dylan, not Nick. Paul still thinks Dylan and Sabrina are a couple.

  “Yep.” I mimic his agreeable nod. “You have plans?”

  Paul sighs and rests his arm on the back of the chair I sit in. “Not much.” His forearm touches my shoulder blades, and I feel his warmth. “I miss spending time with you.”

  My heart starts to beat wildly, like a hummingbird is in my chest cavity and trying to get out. Slowly, I turn my head and look at Paul. His blue eyes are on me and his determined gaze pulls me in. “Me too,” I whisper.

  Paul’s eyes stay on me, and I’m afraid to blink and wreck any connection we have. It feels like he’s searching for an answer, and I want to know the question. My heart is hopeful it knows what Paul is asking with his eyes and it keeps flapping in my chest.

  “I like doing things with you.” Paul’s voice is soft and low, and his rhythmic tone draws me closer. I tilt my head his direction as he brings his in closer to mine. “Ash?” I can feel Paul’s warm breath brush across my face.

  I don’t want him to ask. I only want him to kiss me. Paul’s eyes glance at my lips, and my heart leaps, it’s hope almost fulfilled. “Yes,” I answer, though it sounds like a question to Paul.

  He starts to talk. “Can I ki-”

  “Look who I found,” says a familiar voice. Paul and I jerk away from each other. Paul pulls his arm off the back of my chair and we both look over our shoulders. Mrs. Turner stands in the entrance to the kitchen. “I ran into…” Her face couldn’t display more confusion at seeing me. It’s like she’s walked into what she thinks is her kitchen and it’s someone else’s. “Ash?”

  I stand so quick, the chair I’m in clatters to the hard floor. This couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I was just leaving,” I stutter and bend over to pick up the chair. The excited rhythm of my heart turns to one of nervousness and fear. After I pick up the chair, I find out the situation is worse. Bridgette stands behind Mrs. Turner, a sneer on her face, which she wipes off and replaces with a fake smile.

  “Ash,” Bridgette says in a storybook princess voice and I cringe. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been a long time. What have you been up to?”

  I want to hurl at Bridgette’s saccharine voice. She’s all goody-goody around Paul’s mom, but stone-cold evil behind her back. I’m tired of backing down, like I usually do. I’ve been broken down enough by people, and I’m tired of wrestling with my emotions. Paul’s already broken up with me, and there’s not an army to rescue me, so I’m going to attempt to swing out on my own. I meet Bridgette’s gaze, but I don’t smile at her.

  “Not much has changed since we talked yesterday. I know you’re probably wondering why we’re here together, and it’s because we’re working on a project for math. That’s it.” Paul’s eyes flicker when I mention talking to Bridgette. I shove things in my backpack, confidence soaring in me. Its confidence coated in a thick layer of fear, which makes me feel like puking, but it’s better than normal for me.

  “Paul?” I hear the unasked question in Mrs. Turner’s voice. What is Ash doing here?

  The zipper on my bag is loud in the vast room when Paul doesn’t answer his mom. I shoulder the bag and start to walk past the bodies frozen in place. Pausing next to Bridgette, I lower my voice. “You want him to yourself, so there you go.” I wave my hand back at Paul and storm off to the front door before anyone can say anything. A thrilling rush goes through me. I’ve stood up for myself, for once. It almost feels good, except my nerves are coursing so fast, it makes me feel nauseous.

  I’ve already put on my shoes and coat and have my hand on the doorknob when Paul rushes up to me. Honestly, I was hoping he’d come after me, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure he would because of his mom and Bridgette. This feels like another win for me.

  “Wait,” he says. Pausing, I keep my hand on the knob and twist to Paul, hoping I’m not being an optimistic fool. “I’m sorry.” Paul pinches his lips together.

  “Did you break up with me because of your mom or because of her?” I’ll use his tactics of not saying the name of my nemesis.

  “It’s complicated.” Paul stands a couple feet away from me, and he seems so far.

  “Complicated,” I repeat and drop my hands to my sides. My lips squeeze together, and I nod once in understanding. My world has been falling apart, but some pieces are starting to come back into play. “I get complicated. That’s the answer you give when you don’t want to tell the truth.”

  “I thought it was for the best.” Paul blinks repeatedly.

  I sigh and close my eyes. I’m trying to move forward, trying to figure out what to do, and Paul needs to do the same thing. “You said you want to be friends, right?” I open my eyes and meet Paul’s.

  He nods and steps closer to me. “I said that, but now…”

  “You do realize she’s been relentlessly pursuing you for a long time, and will do anything to get me out of the picture?” I charge in before Paul can finish. He’s blind if he’s missed all the signals Bridgette’s been throwing out there, not to mention all the times she’s tried to tear me down. Paul’s body jerks at my accusation, but I won’t back down. “She wants you and will threaten whoever gets in the way. I’m not going to be like that, and I don’t like dealing with it.”

  “She’s just a friend. She knows that. I care about you.” Gently, Paul places a hand on my left arm. “I think I made a mistake breaking up with you.”

  Obviously, he made a mistake, but fixing it is another thing. I look at Paul’s hand, the one that felt so familiar and comfortable in mine, and a jolt goes through me. He’s saying the words I’ve been wanting to hear, but I realize it’s not enough. “Are you going to tell me the truth about why you broke up with me?”

  Paul blinks rapidly again, before he focuses on me. He’s not going
to tell me now, and that’s fine. I think I know what we both need.

  “Can we start again?” Paul whispers. He places his other hand on my arm, holding me near him in a distant hug.

  I swallow hard. “I think we need to start with being friends,” I say. We never took the opportunity to be real friends. A break from dating might be good for us to consider what’s important in our lives, and whether we’re meant to be in a relationship. “And see where we go from there.”

  Paul’s face drops for a moment, as if I’m the one breaking up with him now. A couple seconds later, he nods and a fierce determination simmers behind his eyes. “I’ll tell her we’re friends.” Paul’s fingers slowly graze down my arms, my hands, and then my fingers, sending tingles through me. “For now.”

  I leave Paul’s house and sit in my car, letting the nerves coursing through my body dissipate. I think I handled the situation like an adult and plotted a course forward, but I wrinkle my nose, confused at Paul’s parting statement. Is he telling his mom, Bridgette, or both we’re friends? And what does he mean by for now?

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The six of us are in Nick’s SUV. Nora sits in the front passenger seat, Sabrina and Dylan are in the middle row, and Taylor and I occupy the back row. The small cargo space is stuffed with our duffle bags. We recently stopped at a grocery store and bags of food are wedged in any open spot.

  “Take the next left,” Dylan commands Nick. He pulls up in front of a large black iron gate and Dylan opens the car door to get out. “Give me a minute. I’ll put the gate code in.”

  While he enters the code, the rest of us lean forward or sideways to peer out the windows. It’s dusk and growing dark. The driveway is surrounded by large trees and we can’t see what’s ahead of the driveway gate.

  “Has anyone been here before?” Sabrina asks.

  We all shake our heads, curious as to what lies ahead.

  Dylan pops back in his seat. “Alright.” The gate fully opens, and Nick drives through on the long stretch of blacktop.

  “This is your cabin?” Sabrina asks, her tone incredulous as Nick pulls up to a massive house.

  Dylan nods, a slight embarrassment in his movements. I smirk, it’s rare to see him falter.

  “Some cabin,” Sabrina mutters, awe in her voice.

  We’re all in amazement, unable to move and our gazes focused out the windows. Dylan’s regular house is huge, but this thing in front of me, it can’t be described as a cabin. It’s massive, and the only resemblance to a cabin is the exterior of logs and rocks.

  Taylor leans over the seat and smacks Dylan on his shoulder blades. “Shut up!” A huge smile covers her face. “This is going to be some spring break. Are you right on the lake?”

  Dylan nods. He’s never been one to flaunt his family’s wealth, though it’s not hard to tell they have a lot of money. “We have over a hundred acres with quite a bit of shoreline. It’s pretty remote and quiet here. It’s my mom’s favorite place.”

  “Get out!” Taylor waves her hands excitedly. “And I mean that, as in actually, get out of the vehicle so we can go explore.”

  Taylor and I are the last to tumble out since we’re stuck in the back. We all grab grocery bags and stand, jaws still dropped, in front of the mansion. Dylan leads us up the front walk.

  “I’ve got to disable the security system and then I can give you a tour. There are five bedrooms, a bunk room, six bathrooms, and lots of space for us to spread out,” Dylan says.

  I swallow. I hadn’t thought of the bedroom situation. Dylan told us we wouldn’t need sleeping bags, but I pictured it as more of a camp-out. This is like staying at a five-star resort, without people serving us.

  “Girls in the bunkroom!” Sabrina exclaims as Dylan opens the door and immediately punches a code on a keypad on the wall. I’ve always liked Sabrina, but lately, I love that girl. I see Nora and Nick glance at each other, and I’m slightly shocked. They’re approaching two months together, and maybe they’re more serious than anyone knows. I jab Nora in the side when we step through the door and raise my eyebrows at her. Is there something she hasn’t told me? She pinches her lips together and looks at the floor.

  “Alright, Mr. Tour Guide.” Sabrina links her arm through Dylan’s. “Show us this place.”

  Dylan chuckles. “Whatever the fake girlfriend wants.”

  We’re like a giddy bunch of miners entering a cave full of jewels. After dropping groceries in the kitchen, Dylan gives us a tour of the unbelievable cabin.

  “Feel free to explore on your own for a bit,” Dylan says after we’ve combed through the entire inside. Sabrina and Taylor head off to play foosball, and Nora disappears with Nick. Everyone scatters, except Dylan. He holds his hand out to me. “Come on, I want to show you the best part of my room. I think you’ll appreciate it.”

  Without hesitating, I place my hand in his. “This better not be a friends with benefits kind of thing,” I say in a joking tone as he pulls me into his room and across it in a few steps.

  “Oh, but it is.” Dylan grins, the one I like which makes his dimple pop. “I may have the smallest room of my brothers and sister, but I have something better, which makes the small room worth it.”

  Dylan may say his room is small, but it’s still bigger than my bedroom at home. He releases my hand and uses both of his to push back the long, dark drapes to either side of the wall. Behind the drapes are a set of French doors, and he unlocks one and opens it. Cool air, wet with moisture and smelling of pine and lake water, wafts into the room. I step past Dylan and out on to a small, private deck.

  “Other than my parents’ room, I’m the only one to have a private deck,” Dylan says.

  I inhale the marvelous, fresh scent, and lean against the railing of the second-floor balcony. “This is a great benefit,” I say.

  In the darkening night, stars twinkle in the sky, and it feels magical. Magical best describes the change from a child to an adult, because you often don’t notice how or when it happens. In some ways, I still feel like a kid, but after today, I feel more adult than ever. Standing up to Bridgette, moving forward, deciding to be friends with Paul before pursuing more with him, and going away with friends for spring break are some of the most adult things I’ve done, and it feels good.

  Dylan turns off the lights in his room, and we’re immersed in the dark. He joins me, rests his forearms on the deck railing, and leans over them. The sound of waves rolling in on the beach masks any other noise. My eyes start to adjust to the dark and I can see shimmers of light on the water.

  “One summer Paul and I brought a bucket of water balloons up to this deck.” I hear the strain in Dylan’s voice, the difficulty he has in saying Paul’s name. Paul used to come here for a week in the summer with Dylan, when they were best friends during elementary and middle school. “We meant to hit my brothers with them.”

  We weren’t friends, but I knew Dylan and Paul when I was younger because we swam on the club team together in elementary and middle school. I smile at the thought of a young Dylan and Paul, teamed up in some hijinks to ambush Beckett and Caleb. “Did you get them?” I ask.

  Dylan laughs, a small, low laugh. It’s a mix of amusement and regret. “No. I didn’t know it, but my dad had a contractor over to make measurements for the firepit below. We hit him instead. My dad was so mad, but the contractor was really nice about it. He said he was warm, and it cooled him off, plus he had raised two sons.”

  I laugh once, imagining it in my head, and seeing both Dylan and Paul. “Have you always been a troublemaker?”

  “I guess so.” Dylan’s elbow brushes against mine. “Have you made a wish?” he asks.

  I turn to see the silhouette of his face in the dark. “A wish?”

  “On the first star.”

  I look up at the sky. There’s more than one twinkling in the black canvas of dark. “I think I missed
it,” I say.

  “It’s never too late to make a wish.” Dylan’s voice is soft, matching the roll of the waves.

  “I’ve made so many plans this year and none of them have worked out how I intended. None of them came true. I don’t think it would matter.”

  We look at the stars in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Dylan speaks up again. “A plan isn’t the same as a wish. A wish is a hope for the future, it’s for when you can’t see how you’ll get to the thing you want.” Dylan’s chin tilts my way. “Now make a wish.”

  I exhale a puff of air. I’ve always made plans, with steps in mind to get to the goal. Now, I’m not quite sure where I’m headed and maybe a wish is just what I need. I lean over and place my head on Dylan’s strong arm. The ridges of his muscle lie next to my cheek. “I’ll make a wish if you make one too,” I say. The warmth of Dylan’s arm radiates through me.

  “Okay, Ashley.” Dylan’s cheek brushes against my hair. “I’ll make a wish. I wish we’ll win the triathlon.”

  I lift my head up and bump Dylan with my shoulder. “You can’t tell me your wish,” I chide him. “Now it won’t come true.”

  “Have you made yours?”

  I stare at the lake, waiting for a wish to come out of the depths of water. There’s so much I could hope for and so many unknown things lying ahead of me. Unexpectedly, a wish comes to me, like a siren singing and making me forget everything else, everything but this single wish. I smile. The wish is as enchanting as a siren song, and it fills me with happiness.

  Dylan must notice my smile because he asks, “Is it a good one?”

  My head nods, and my soul is filled with a deep longing for this wish to come true. “It is. It really is.”

  Dylan reaches out and wraps an arm around me. I let him, even though I didn’t initiate it. “I hope it comes true,” he says.

  “Me too,” I reply.

  We stand in silence, gazing out into the night. Our wishes have been thrown out there, out into the void, but I have a hope they’ll come true.