by Amy Sparling
Then, standing against the wall, is another guy who must also be a part of the team. He’s really tall, with lean muscle and colorful tattoos running up both of his arms. He’s staring at his phone, listening to his earbuds. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and while he’s totally gorgeous, he looks a little terrifying. His sharp features seem pissed off, his dark eyebrows arching as he stares at his phone. He has a five o’clock shadow and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Being that tall doesn’t help with the intimidation factor, either. I decide right away that I don’t want to meet this guy.
“I like you, Miss Dunn,” Marcus says, startling me. I’d almost forgotten that he was standing next to me. “Do you still want this internship?”
I nod. “Yes, I’d love to be considered for the position.”
He grins. “Great. Here’s your test.” He motions toward the scary tattoo guy. “You want the job? Get this guy to sign autographs, and you’ll be hired.”
Chapter 4
I swallow. I should have known this opportunity was too good to be true. I look at Clay, who is still leaning with his back to the wall, looking at this phone. As if he can sense me, he looks up and our eyes meet. He holds my gaze for three seconds. I freeze. He looks back at his phone, totally unaffected, but I feel as though he just shot a dagger right into my chest. With one look I can tell this guy is not friendly.
I should just turn around and drive back home because this task Marcus has given me is beyond impossible. I take a deep breath and glance over at Marcus, who is watching me with an inspecting gaze. Maybe he knew I would give up like this. Did everyone else before me do the same thing?
I think of the long drive home and how I don’t want to get back only to tell my parents that I’m so pathetic I failed my interview. I have no other job prospects on the horizon, especially not anything that would pay me to travel. I need this internship.
I turn to Marcus. “Can I do whatever it takes?”
He shrugs. “Within reason.”
I nod. “Okay, consider it done.”
Marcus gives me an appreciative nod, and I wish I actually felt as confident as I’m pretending to be. “When do the autographs start?” I ask.
Marcus points to a long table that’s set up just across the room. There are four stacks of what look like posters on the table, one stack in front of each of the four chairs. A box of Sharpie markers sits unopened. “They can start signing as soon as they get over there,” Marcus says.
It seems simple enough. I cock my head. “Is this a trick?”
Marcus laughs, all big and loud like I’ve just said something hilarious. “I wish it was a trick, Miss Dunn. Here’s the thing—three of my guys don’t mind signing autographs. But Clay hates it. And part of why I need an intern is to help me convince his moody ass that he has to do what he’s contractually obligated to do.”
I frown. “Signing autographs seems fun. Why won’t he do it?”
Marcus shrugs. “Beats me. The guy’s an enigma. A total asshole but fast as hell on a bike.” Marcus pats my shoulder. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“No problem,” I say. I take a step toward the VIP section where all of Team Loco (and one girlfriend, I guess) is hanging out. With each step I take, I hope a plan will come to me, some kind of magical perfect plan that will make all of this very easy, but nothing happens. I get to the velvet rope that blocks them off from normal people and I step around it. No one really looks at me, but I’m wearing my professional skirt and blouse so I guess I look official and not like some sneaky fangirl who slipped through security.
The journalist woman and her cameraman are just finishing, and she shakes hands with the guy with messy hair and then thanks him for the interview. As she and the cameraman turn to leave, I clear my throat.
“Hey there,” I say to the team, injecting every bit of confidence I can find into my voice. “My name is Avery Dunn and I’m Team Loco’s new intern.”
Jett, Zach, Aiden, and Jett’s girlfriend all look at me, their expressions friendly and curious. Clay, however, does not. I don’t even think he can hear me over his earbuds.
And of course, I’m not officially the intern yet, but Marcus said I could do whatever I wanted within reason, and I’m choosing to fake it until I make it.
I’m about to keep talking, but one of the guys—Zach?—stands up and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Zach.”
“Jett,” Jett says, waving at me from his place on the couch.
His girlfriend stands up and then smacks him on the shoulder. “Don’t just wave,” she says. “Go introduce yourself.”
“Sorry,” Jett says sheepishly, as he rises from the couch. “We kind of met earlier. I’m Jett. Nice to meet you again.”
“You too,” I say.
The guy with messy hair is named Aiden and he shakes my hand as well. “So Marcus finally found someone to intern? Cool.”
My smile falters. “I hope that’s not a bad thing?”
Aiden shakes his head. “Nah, it just means that you must be good. Everyone else he interviewed didn’t cut it.”
Nerves build up in my stomach. I could easily be one of those people who can’t cut it. This might be my first and last time talking to these guys. I try to smile, but I don’t think it works.
I can feel Clay’s gaze on me before I look over, but I look anyway. He’s watching me, his hand holding one earbud that he removed to listen in to the conversation. Good. He knows I’m here, at least.
I look at the other three guys, knowing that Clay is listening. “It’s time for autographs,” I say, gesturing to the signing table.
“Fun stuff,” Jett says, cracking his knuckles like he’s getting ready to do some hardcore signature writing. “See you in a bit,” he says to his girlfriend before kissing her quickly on the lips.
Marcus had stayed behind when I walked up here to do the test he’d given me, but I know he’s watching me from wherever he is right now. He probably doesn’t have much confidence that I’ll succeed, especially since Clay just put his earbud back in. I guess I should be grateful that he afforded me three seconds of his attention before ignoring me again.
Seriously, what is wrong with this guy? I would love to sign posters if someone wanted me to. That would be so freaking cool.
The three nice members of Team Loco all shuffle out of the narrow opening in the velvet ropes and make their way toward the signing table. Jett’s girlfriend walks over to me, a soft smile on her face that looks more like pity instead of an actual smile.
“I’m Keanna,” she says. “And I really hope you can talk that one into signing.”
I sigh. “Me too.”
“Is that the test Marcus gave you?” she asks, her voice quiet.
“How’d you know?”
“He told me that he’s only going to hire someone who can make Clay be nicer,” she whispers. “Apparently the team is trying to go for this wholesome, family-friendly image and Clay is the only one stopping that.”
I frown. “Do you have any tips?”
She bites her bottom lip while she thinks. “He really is a nice guy under there,” she says, her eyes seeming far away like she remembers something. “He’s there for you when you need him, and he’s a good friend. He just doesn’t like outsiders, and he makes it really hard to get into his inner circle, if that makes sense.”
I try to take in that information and find a way to make it work for me. “Thank you,” I say. “Wish me luck.”
She grins and it lights up her whole face. I like Keanna already. She’s sweet and beautiful but in that girl-next-door kind of way, not in that Instagram-model kind of way that most famous guys seem to go for. She has light brown hair with highlights and is wearing a shirt with Jett’s name and bike number on it. I hope I get to see her again. I hope I don’t totally screw this up.
I walk over to Clay, my knees feeling wobbly the whole time.
“Hi there,” I say brightly.
He looks up at me, his chocolate eyes peering into mine. For a split second I worry he won’t even take out his earbuds, and then I won’t know what to do, but he does. Thank God.
“Can I help you?” he says. It’s a question, but it doesn’t sound like it. His voice is strong, unwavering. It sends a chill down my spine.
“Yes, you can,” I say, keeping my smile. “I’m Avery, and I’m the new intern. Marcus asked me to send you guys over to the autograph table.”
I gesture toward it with my hand. “I’ll walk with you,” I say, hoping it encourages him to move.
He stays firmly leaned against the stupid wall. “No thanks.”
My heart pounds. My mind races as I think of what to say next. I need to convince him and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would care if I started begging and pleading. In fact, he’d probably hate me more.
I remember what Keanna said about how he’s nice to his inner circle. Surely the other guys on the team are part of that circle, right?
“I get it,” I say. “You don’t want to do it. But a Team Loco signing isn’t a signing if one member is missing.” I look back at the table where the other guys are sitting down already and a line is forming of fans eager to meet them. When I look back at Clay, he’s watching me, as if he never stopped staring at me. I swallow. “Your team needs you. Do you really want to let them down?”
Clay takes a step forward, peeling his lean body away from the wall. He was pretty tall a second ago, but now he’s towering over me, well over six feet, as he gazes down at me.
I don’t look away even though I really, really want to.
“I’m not asking you to be nice,” I say, my voice feeling weaker with each word. “I’m just asking you to scribble on some posters.”
“What’s in it for you?” he asks.
There’s no point in lying. He probably knows just as much as the others do about Marcus’ attempt to find an intern.
“I get to keep this job,” I say honestly. “And I really, really need this job.”
My cheeks flush after saying that last part. Too much emotion slipped through my words, and now I feel like my heart has been opened up to this total intimidating jerk. I do need this job. It feels like fate—like something I have to do in order to fill this hole inside of me. I want to travel. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself.
And now Clay Summers holds the key to my future in his tattooed hand.
Clay watches me for a moment, his thoughts locked down behind that hard stare of his. And then he slips his phone and earbuds into his pocket. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll go scribble on some posters. For you.”
Chapter 5
Holy shit, what is wrong with me? I seriously just let some sad girl talk me into doing something I hate? Did I have a temporary lapse of consciousness or something?
I curse myself as I walk to the signing table. I can’t believe I was so weak. It was her eyes. That slight frown of her lips. Maybe it was the whole package. She just looked so unbelievably desperate.
I know Marcus put her up to this. He’s tired of arguing with me so he thought he’d get his way by sending the sad looking girl my way. Well, dammit, it worked.
I regret it the second I sit down.
This is not my type of scene. I can’t stand the crowds, can’t stand the smiling faces who eagerly tell me how great I am. I’ll have to get some payback with Marcus when this is over.
The floodgates have opened and now a line of people stretches across the whole room. I can’t believe so many fans come out to these things. There’s not even any racing. We’re just stuck in a fancy room in a fancy hotel signing autographs. It’s pathetic if you ask me.
I reach for a poster in front of me and uncap a new Sharpie. This poster has a pretty good photo of me on my bike. I’m soaring through the air, pointing at the crowd. I think it was taken during the Anaheim race last season. It’s when I won the race after an intense battle for first and I decided to show off a bit for the crowd.
I look up and see the first kid in line. A little boy, maybe six years old. He grins at me, while holding three other signed posters from my teammates. He’ll go home and put them on his wall and who knows how long I’ll be stuck there on some suburban drywall hanging up like an idol.
I sign my name across the poster and hand it to him.
“Thank you!” he says, his chubby cheeks dimpling.
I nod back. “No problem, man.”
He beams and his mom shuffles him away. The next several dozen autographs happen much the same way. The only good thing is that there are so many people here, the line moves quickly. People don’t have a chance to stop and chat, although some of them try to.
I hate every second of it.
I can’t exactly pinpoint why. I just do. I’d rather be home, or on my bike. I think it’s weird that I’m idolized just because I can ride. It’s not a magical skill. It’s a talent I got by practicing my ass off. Anyone could do it if they were dedicated enough.
Some girl about my age smiles at me from the line. I see her waiting there, wearing skimpy shorts and a tank top that’s barely holding in her boobs. She’s staring at me so hard it’d be impossible not to notice. She barely acknowledges the other guys as they sign posters for her, and I brace myself for when she reaches me.
“I love you so much,” she says, leaning down and placing her palms on the table. Her boobs are perfectly positioned in front of me. Girls know damn well what they’re doing and this one is no exception. That shit might work on the other guys, but not me.
“You don’t know me,” I say, turning my gaze to the poster. I sign my name.
“I love you as a racer,” she says. “You’re my favorite out of everyone. I love watching you ride.”
I slide the poster off the stack and hold it out for her. “Thanks.”
“Your tattoos are so great,” she says, her smile never fading.
“Yeah, they are,” I say back.
She smiles again at me, looks like maybe she wants to say something else, but then she doesn’t because I turn my attention down to the stack of posters.
She leaves and Zach kicks me under the table. “Dude, she was into you.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I say, quickly signing a poster for the next guy in line. “I’m pretty sure the whole world noticed that.”
“She was hot as hell,” the guy says.
I hand him the poster.
“You’re the only single one left,” Zach tells me between signing autographs and talking with his adoring fans.
“And I very much like it that way,” I say. And I do, right? I prefer being single. I don’t know why it felt weird to say that just now.
“I’m just saying,” Zach says, glancing at me with something a little like pity in his eyes. “Now that you’re the only eligible bachelor of the team, you’ll probably get all of the attention from fangirls. You need to prepare yourself.”
I snort. “I’m not worried about that.”
Even if I wanted to date someone, it would be pointless. I’m not into that long distance crap.
This event was supposed to last until three in the afternoon but it’s nearly five by the time we’re done. Luckily, the autographing only lasted an hour and then we got to take a break before TV interviews. The whole time I was sitting there I kept noticing the new girl. What was her name again? I don’t even remember. She’s young and cute but she’s dressed like a lawyer. I feel like someone should tell her that we are not that formal in Team Loco.
She stands next to Marcus, curiously taking in all of the craziness that is a press day for Team Loco. She looks a little scared, or maybe she’s just intimidated. She seems really young, maybe just out of high school. I wonder why Marcus hired her. She can’t possibly be old enough to have a marketing or PR degree.
I had my worries when I first saw her, wondering if she was some motocross groupie who just wanted the fame of being around us, but she doesn’t seem like that, at least not yet
. She seems like she’s trying to do a good job. But I’m not stupid enough to assume that she’s here for the job only. Girls do sneaky stuff to get in close with motocross guys.
After the press day is finally over, Marcus offers to take us out to dinner.
He looks at the girl. “That means you, too, new intern.”
She brightens. “Sounds great.”
Marcus stares at his phone and nods. “Let’s try this Mexican food place. I’ll text you the address, Avery.”
Avery. That’s her name.
Team Loco is sharing a limo tonight, and I’m surprised Marcus doesn’t just let her ride with us. But then I realize she must be a local to Dallas since she came in for an interview. Of course she’d have her own car. That’s the worst part of this whole racing gig. We’re traveling so much that we use airports and taxis. It’s a little claustrophobic knowing you can’t just jump in your car and bail if you don’t want to be somewhere.
The guys are all talking about Avery on the ride to the restaurant. Jett and Keanna really like her, but I think Keanna’s motivations are purely personal. She wants another girl to hang out with when she’s on tour with us. Zach and Aiden’s girlfriends rarely ever travel with us. Marcus goes on about how she seems eager and genuine and he thinks she’ll make a good fit.
I keep silent. I don’t care that there’s another member of this little crew. I don’t care that she’s actually pretty cute, or that she’ll make Marcus’ job easier and that might make him be less of a dick on stressful days. I don’t care about any of it.
And that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
Because if I let myself think about this girl for even a few seconds, I start venturing into thoughts that make me uneasy. Like how she’s really, really cute. I learned my lesson with dating a couple years ago and I vowed I’d be totally done with dating until I get too old or broken up to keep riding professionally. Then maybe I’d settle down. But now? No way.