by Megan Lowe
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Josh says as he shifts from foot to foot nervously.
“What’s not good about it?” I ask while we wait in line to be let into one of the Coast’s hottest clubs. All around us are a ton of beautiful people. Guys in tight shirts opened almost to their navels, and girls in dresses that would be hard-pressed to be classified as tops.
“This isn’t really my scene.”
I sling an arm around his shoulders. “No offence, Josh, but nothing is really your scene.”
“Exactly, so we should just give up and go home.”
I sigh. “Aren’t you bored of doing the same old thing day after day?” I ask. “Not doing anything other than playing on your computer or hanging around with your sister and my brother? Where’s the excitement there? We’re both young, and single, we’re in the prime of our lives and you’re letting it pass you by. We should be out every night, living it up.”
“Living what up?” he asks.
“Life, my friend, life,” I say as we move to the front of the line.
“Oh shit!” the bouncer says when he checks us out. “You’re Jax Ryan!”
I laugh a little self-consciously. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Oh, whoa, man, you’re like, totally rad,” he says.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“You looking to party tonight?”
“Ah.” I look to Josh who looks like he’s about to make a run for it. “Nah, me and my mate here are just wanting to hang out for a bit, you know, check out the talent on display, that sort of thing.”
The bouncer nods. “I feel ya, man,” he says. “Here.” He unhooks the velvet rope. “Tell Tina inside I told ya you’re good and to let you into the VIP area.”
I offer him my hand. “Thanks, my man. I appreciate it.”
After a little fun flirting with the very lovely Tina, Josh and I go up to the VIP area above the club. Immediately we’re shown to a booth and our drink orders taken.
“See, isn’t this great?” I ask Josh as we sip our beers once they’re delivered.
He shrugs. “I don’t understand why it’s so loud in here. Or why it’s so dark. The flashing lights are hurting my eyes.”
“You’ve never had fun in your life, have you?” I ask.
“Not everyone’s idea of fun is the same,” he says defensively.
I blow out a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m being an arse. You’re a good sport for coming with me so I can drown my sorrows.”
“Was she really that amazing?” Josh asks tentatively.
“You ever been with a woman?” I ask. He shakes his head infinitesimally. “The moment when you first slide into a woman… it’s like nothing else on the planet, man. It’s like all the best things in life. But being with Bentley, it was just… more, you know?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, because we were friends first, it just meant more. There was this connection between us that elevated everything. Plus, she’s beautiful. I’ve been with a lot of women but Bentley, she was, she is unlike any of them.”
“Are you in love with her?”
“What? No!” I say. “We’re just friends.”
“But you want to be more, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, a lot more.”
“So why not go after her? You’re Jax Ryan after all.”
I laugh. “If only that would help in this case.” I blow out a breath. “But there’s always plenty more fish in the sea, right?”
“Ah, yeah, right,” he replies.
I down my beer and motion for another one. “So let’s go fishing, my friend.”
More than a few beers later and Josh and I are surrounded by a bevy of babes and things are getting, well, sloppy for want of a better word. There are hands and mouths flying all over the place, and I think my shirt has been ripped open. It’s not like I give a flying fuck though.
“See?” I ask Josh. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says, sipping his beer.
“What’s up?” I ask. “Are you not having fun?”
“How is this fun?” he questions. “You’re basically being mauled by a bunch of plastic bimbos, whose names you don’t know, won’t ask for, and who you won’t even remember in the morning. And for what? To forget a girl you clearly don’t want to forget, much less get over.” He shakes his head. “And I have to sit here and watch all of this go down? Yeah, this is just tons of fun.”
“Geez, twin dude, that’s a bit harsh.”
“Is it?” he asks. “Sorry, I lost my patience after you did a shot of whatever that was out of that girl’s belly button.”
“Tequila,” I answer.
“Whatever.”
I sigh and take a look around me. Josh is right. We came here to have fun. Sure, the girls surrounding us are beautiful, and I know one or more of them would be more than willing to come home with me. In fact, I could probably persuade one of them to show some love to my man Josh over here, but for what? A ten-second release followed by days or even weeks of regret? No, Josh is right. None of these girls can replace Bentley. If, and that’s a big if, I’m going to get over her, I’m going to have to do it the hard way.
“Come on,” I say, getting up, “let’s go home.”
“Really?” Josh asks, excitement lighting his eyes for the first time tonight.
“Yeah, you’re right. There’s nothing here for me, so let’s get out of here. I hear there’s a Game of Thrones marathon happening right now.”
With my preferred method of avoidance proving to be a bust, I headed to my first love to keep me busy and my mind off all things Bentley La Roche. I had Reed ship one of my bikes to me, and for the first time in four and a half months, I’m about to get back on. I’ve got to admit, there was a part of me that thought this may never happen, that I was done. It scared me shitless. I should’ve known you can never keep a good thing down. Besides, I’m not a good thing; I’m the best thing. And at twenty, there’s no way in hell I want to be thinking about what I’ll be doing after I’ve finished riding. Hopefully that’s still a very long time off. Riding has taken up so much of my life, I have no idea who I am without it. And I don’t want to find out. I love what I do, who I am, and the wind blowing in my face reminds me of that. The local skate park has a pretty decent set-up, so I roll in there. I’m not going to lie, it feels fucking incredible to be back on my bike. For me, riding is a way of expressing myself, of letting go of everything and just letting loose. Today is no different. The kiddies that usually hang around are at school, so I have the place to myself. Or at least I think I do.
“Looking good out there,” a voice says as I stop to get my breath back and have a drink. I spin and see a guy, probably in his forties, leaning against a fence.
“Er, thanks?” I say, unsure as to who the fuck this guy is and what he wants.
“Knew you wouldn’t be down for too long.”
“Yeah, right,” I say.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, coming towards me, hand outstretched, “Dean Toms.”
“Jax Ryan,” I say, grasping his hand. He’s shorter than I am, probably more around Josh’s height, so five five, five six maybe, with weird-arse yellow eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, a hook nose, a pot belly, and a limp.
“I know who you are,” he says as his left hand covers the one of mine he’s still got in his grasp. “I’ve been a fan for a long time. Been wanting to meet you as well. I’ve been hoping I’d see you around, so you can imagine my delight when I saw you here. ”
“You must have been stoked,” I say, trying to wrangle my hand free, “and, ah, thanks for the support.”
He smiles, and it’s just a tad creepy. “You’re most welcome. I always like to keep an eye out for the best talent. I’m pretty sure that’s you, isn’t it?” He squeezes my hand tighter.
“For sure,” I say, now making an obvious effort to get my hand back.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asks, pulling my trapped hand and the rest
of my body closer to him.
“Not the foggiest.”
He chuckles. “I’m the guy that can send your career into the stratosphere.”
“It’s already pretty good,” I say. “I’m sorry, but can I have my hand back?” I don’t know who this guy is or what he wants, but he’s really starting to piss me off and creep me out.
“And are you happy just being pretty good?” he asks, ignoring me and my attempts to get free. I’ve got to hand it to the dude, he’s strong.
“It’s fine. What’s not fine is your grip on my hand,” I say.
“Oh, sorry.” He releases me. “I get a bit carried away sometimes.”
“I can see that,” I say as I stretch out my cramped digits.
“But seriously, Jax, with my help you could be a household name, the BMX equivalent of Tony Hawk.”
“That’d be amazing, but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got going on now,” I tell him.
“With your family right?” I nod. “I get it, they’re blood so you can’t tell them you want out, but there is so much more waiting for you.”
“Look, man, I’m flattered but I’m really not interested,” I say as I pick up my bike and start heading towards the car.
“So you’re telling me your own line of sunglasses, T-shirts, energy drinks, maybe even a mobile app or your own reality show don’t interest you?” he calls after me.
“My own reality show?” I ask.
He grins, pleased he’s got my interest. “Sure, why not?”
“Who would want to watch it?”
“Who wouldn’t want to watch it? You’re part of an emerging trend area. People like watching you guys do all your fancy tricks. Kids want to be you, women want to fuck you. You’re marketing gold, my friend.”
“Eh,” I say, “it sounds good, but I don’t think it’s my thing.”
“Being famous and earning a shitload of money isn’t your thing?” he asks.
I shake my head. “That’s not how my family operates.”
He leans up against my car, his arms folded across his chest. “No offence, but I’ve seen how your family operates. They’re small-time.”
“My brother has won three National Racing Series with them. Last season he and our other rider finished one-two. That doesn’t happen if we’re small-time. Neither does a single rider being invited to compete in every BMX discipline at the Extreme Games. So yeah, you can say we’re small-time, but our results don’t back you up.”
“You can’t tell me you’re content with this,” he says, and gestures to the park around us.
“It’s good enough to get me eight Extreme Games medals. I’d say that’s pretty fucking good.”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “You’re right, you’re obviously not ready for what I have to offer.” He pushes off the car.
“Sorry to waste your time.”
“No worries, it was good to meet you, Jax. I’ve been waiting for a long time.”
“Yeah, you too,” I say as I pack away my bike.
“But just in case you change your mind,” he says, pulling out a business card, “here’s where you can find me.” He tucks it into my gear bag before sauntering off.
I watch him leave, confused as all fuck as to what the hell that was. I take a look at the card. DeanStars is in bright yellow writing. I should’ve known. I’ve heard about them. Apparently, they’re more than a tad pretentious, with a focus on flash over substance. They’re more of the show crowd, there to entertain people but not really make waves in the competitive side of the sport. Of course, the guys who ride for teams like those are rolling in dough, but it’s not my scene. But hey, props to… Dean, for trying to convert me to the dark side. Or maybe he’s trying to branch out, who knows? Either way, I won’t be partaking in his brand of BMX. The dude is creepy as fuck. Shaking my head to clear it, I take a look at my watch and see that if I hurry, I could make a yoga class at Bert’s. I haven’t been for a while, and if I want to stage a comeback, I’m going to need to be at my best.
With a minute to spare, I slip into the class and grab a mat and an empty space on the floor. I’m so busy trying to get ready I don’t even notice who I’ve set up next to. I raise my head and come face-to-face with the girl who’s been haunting my dreams.
Chapter 14
Bentley
I shouldn’t have left Jax like that. The thought swirls round in my head for what’s probably the billionth time, despite the month that has passed since then.
Bam! A punch to the stomach brings me back to the here and now.
“Yeah, that got your attention,” Harley, my sparring partner, says.
“Sorry,” I say, and jump around for a bit in a bid to loosen my muscles and focus on the eighty-kilo MMA fighter trapped in the cage with me.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks as we circle each other.
“Not particularly.”
“Bent….”
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“The fact that I was able to get a shot on you says differently.” Despite our obvious physical differences, Harley and I are usually well matched. I sigh and stop moving. Harley stops too.
“I fucked up,” I tell him.
He starts to unwrap the bindings on his hands. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
We go to a nearby café and order smoothies.
“So tell me,” Harley says once we have a seat, “what did you fuck up?”
I sigh. “You know Jax Ryan?” I ask.
“BMX rider, right? He’s the reason you were able to knock me out the first time we sparred together. He has that cute lost puppy, good boy/dirty boy thing going on.”
I nod. “I slept with him.”
“Nice,” Harley says, “high five, sister.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I fucked up. I slept with him and then I freaked. I ran out on him and I’ve been avoiding him for the past month.”
“Why?” He crosses his legs and rests his chin on his knuckles. “Come on, gorgeous, tell Uncle Harley all about it,” he says, when I’m not forthcoming.
“Uncle Harley?” I ask, arching an eyebrow. Despite me knocking him on his arse on a regular basis, we’re great friends.
He shrugs. “Couldn’t really think of an acceptable fairy godmother name on the fly, so that’s what I came up with.”
“What, the gay best friend role wasn’t good enough for you?” I joke.
He throws me the finger and we laugh. “Gorgeous, do I look like the type to settle for the norm?”
I take in the man sitting in front of me. He’s fierce and unrelenting. There’s no way he’d settle for anything less than the best, both inside the octagon and out of it. “Point taken.”
“Have we stalled enough now?” he asks.
I sigh. “I guess.” I play with the straw in my smoothie for a bit anyway.
“Bent…,” he prods.
“Gah! I’m scared, okay?”
“Of what? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem like the type of girl who’s easily spooked, or lets anything deter her from what she really wants.”
I blow out a breath. “Now I am. A few years ago it was a whole different story.”
“Bad break-up?” Harley asks.
“To put it mildly. He’s the reason I started fighting, the reason I’m so… guarded. It’s why I fucked up whatever it was I had or could have had with Jax.”
He looks at me and it’s like he’s seeing into my soul. To tell you the truth, it reminds me a lot of how Jax would look at me sometimes. “Hmm,” he says, his brows pinched, mouth tight. “Okay, I’m going to say some things and I want you to listen to me, okay?” I nod. “No, I mean really listen to me.”
“I will, I promise.”
“I’m not going to pretend to know everything you went through with your ex, but I have my own experience with wanting to protect myself, so I think we’re coming from a similar place.” He takes a breath and blows it out. “I know a thing or two about building walls.
I know how sometimes you feel it’s necessary to shield yourself, keep yourself whole. It’s also incredibly isolating.”
“Okay,” I say, not sure where he’s going with this.
“I know I haven’t known you long, but I feel like I know you well enough to tell you that you have closed yourself off to the world. Yes, you let me in, but I suspect that has more to do with my sexual orientation than an actual breaking down of those walls around you.”
I think for a moment. “You’re probably right,” I say.
He gives me a small smile. “I think I am too.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Go to Jax, and explain what’s going on with you, what’s going on in your head, in your heart.”
“What happens if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“Don’t give him a choice. Make him listen.”
“I’m scared,” I tell him again.
“I know you are. Okay, let’s put it this way, what do you feel for Jax?”
I stop and think. “I like him,” I say eventually.
“Just like him?” Harley asks.
“Okay, I more than like him.”
He smiles. “There we go. What do you more than like about our young BMX star?”
“I like that I feel like I can be myself around him. But that terrifies me as well.”
“Okay, what else do you like?”
“I like that he makes me smile, that he makes me feel special, like I’m the only person in the world. I like the goofy things he says and the way he looks after his cat. I like that he didn’t give up after his accident, that he worked hard to recover. I really like that he’s so carefree and easy-going. He never lets anything get him down.”