By two o’clock, we learned Matt had made it into the main event, and with a little discreet snooping, I found out Finn had won his heat and would be racing that night as well. Not that I had any doubts either of them would, they were at the top of the western class. I heard buzz around the stadium that Dalton failed to qualify for the main event, so he’d be sitting on the sidelines with the factory squad guys, which gave me a little petty pleasure. He was on one of the flashy, heavily sponsored teams, earning a generous monthly salary whether he raced or not, unlike Finn and Matt. They were Supercross’ working-class riders, the privateers who raced on their own dime, with minimal sponsorship from equipment manufacturers and mostly volunteers for a racing team. They may have been the scrappy, poor kids of the sport, but they were fan favorites. My secret glee grew at the thought of Dalton sitting it out in his snazzy jersey and pristine leathers, pouting because he wasn’t on the track. He still had plenty of time between now and May, sixteen more race days to be precise, to rack up points, but I still said a little prayer it was a sign karma was on the job.
I left our tented pit and stood on the sidelines to watch the opening ceremonies. The impressive pyrotechnics and booming announcement of each rider as they rode out onto a small stage helped whip the crowd into a frenzy. Most of the riders would do little tricks as they rode away from the spotlight, especially my brother, but when it was Finn’s turn, he just came out, gave a double fist pump, and took off. In the time Matt had been a pro, I’d never once seen Finn show off. The crowds chanted his name louder than most, anyway.
Once the festivities were concluded, I stepped to a safe distance to watch the races among the press. I cheered loudly for the 250cc riders from Matt’s satellite team. They were all good kids of varying talent. Their main event was no less exciting than the one for the men on the bigger bikes, but it was that one I was anxious about.
As Matt’s sister, I wanted him to win. I helped maintain his bikes in peak working order, and of course, he was my flesh and blood. Loyalty demanded I root for him, but I wanted to see Finn take that checkered flag. He was a bit older than Matt and had come up second to Aaron Ogilvie too many times. I wanted to see him shine this year. Matt’s day would come, eventually. Besides, if he didn’t know I was rooting for Finn, it couldn’t do any damage.
When their class lined up at the gate, I was on pins and needles. Both of their qualifying times put them in the desired center of the starting line, where each would vie for the holeshot, the lead when reaching the first turn. I knew it’d be a slugfest between the two for the entire race, but I was praying to see Finn reach that corner first.
The gates dropped. Finn was off the line like a rocket with Matt right on his back tire. I couldn’t help the whoop that burst out of me when Finn got to the berm first. I watched him brake check Matt repeatedly after that, always keeping him behind him. I knew my brother had to be screaming under his helmet, frustrated beyond belief. I felt a pang of sympathy, but it did nothing to dim my excitement for Finn.
The main race was twenty minutes plus one lap, and I bounced on the balls of my feet the entire time. It was obvious it would come down to Matt and Finn, and the fans quickly divided into two teams, cheering for their favorite. I grinned when I realized Finn’s crowd was just a little louder.
On the last lap, Matt took and held the lead. I gritted my teeth and fisted my hands as I prayed. Finn was grinding it out, pushing hard to get ahead, but Matt was his typical aggressive self. At the last turn, I’d all but given up hope until Finn ripped ahead, then gave an amazing block pass, slowing Matt down and showering him with mud.
“Go!” I screamed, jumping up and down on the sidelines like a kangaroo, completely forgetting my brother might see me. “Go, Finn! You can do it!”
Finn just gained more momentum as the fans also jumped to their feet. Matt was back in the game, but it was too late. The checkered flag waved Finn past the finish line.
Standing back for a moment, I let myself swoon—along with at least ten or more thousand other women in the stands—but I couldn’t help it. He’d deserved to win. He’d outridden my brother, hands down.
I finally wiped the pleasure off my face and jogged back to the pit in time to see Wally walking the bike in and putting it on its stand. Matt followed, drenched in sweat, chugging down bottles of water.
“You did good out there, bro,” I said, coming over to clap him on the back.
“Obviously not good enough,” he replied sourly.
“Oh, come on. It’s the first race of the season. You’re still starting out with a hefty number of points and ten grand in your pocket,” I cajoled him.
“Yeah, but you know I hate losing to Hawkins,” he grumbled.
“Enough is enough,” I blurted, grabbing my stool and setting it down in front of him. “What the hell is your problem with Finn? You’ve never been the kind of guy who wasn’t willing to give someone a chance. You don’t even know him, but I know you, so don’t give me this bullshit about me not understanding.”
“Fine. Back when your head was all up in the ladies’ class and we were racing 250s, Finn Hawkins was the most aggressive, pigheaded, dickish rider in the sport. He was the bad boy.” Matt said, demonstrating with finger quotes.
“I didn’t know you knew him before you went pro.”
“I didn’t. He was on the east coast then, but I followed racers all over the nation, wondering who else was going to go big. I wanted to study my potential competition. When I realized I’d eventually meet that guy, I vowed to beat him at his own game. Win at all costs.”
“Well, he’s obviously changed, Matt. He’s never tried to pull a trick with you or anyone out there. At least not that anyone mentioned,” I pointed out.
“They don’t call him Hawk just because of his last name,” he countered, pointing his finger at me. “We all have the potential to change, but sometimes, Kenni, people don’t do it until it’s too late,” Matt said cryptically before getting up and going to talk with a representative from the Suzuki team who’d just entered the tent. I had no idea what he meant about it being too late for Finn to change, but I knew I wasn’t going to get any more out of him for the night. Shrugging it off, I got to work cleaning up Matt’s bike and making it shiny new once again.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Channing hollered, slapping me on the back as I entered the pit. “That’s racing.”
“You could have pushed a little harder,” Ralph said, regarding me evenly. It was his job to be critical, but I’d bet he was carefully weighing his words, trying not to scare me back from “the dark side.” I was surprisingly calm about how everything had gone. I didn’t do anything to compromise my ethics, and it sure felt good to beat Matt Michaels again.
“It wasn’t necessary, so I didn’t. The dead heat between us made for a good show, don’t you think?” I said, grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table and taking a long swallow. “When, or if, I need to turn up the temperature, I will.”
“Don’t let him catch you by surprise, Finn,” Ralph warned before turning his back and going to confer with one of the volunteers about something he’d observed with the team.
“Next week, you and I are going to get really muddy,” Channing promised as he loaded my bike up on the stand to clean it.
“Most of it is going to be spent driving to St. Louis, moron,” I drawled.
“We’ll still practice at one of the local tracks once we hit town. I’ll show you some of my signature moves,” he said with an eyebrow wiggle.
“That was oddly creepy, Chan. I’m not sure you’re still talking about racing.”
He barked out a laugh but didn’t say anything more. I rolled my eyes, heading to the locker room to shower and change into street clothes. More than one fan stopped me in the back halls for autographs and pictures, which I was all too happy to oblige. It meant I didn’t make it to the shower for another hour, however.
On my way to the RV and trailers we had waiting
in the parking lot, I took a quick detour through the stadium pavilion, past the Michaels’ camp, hoping to get a glimpse of Kenni. To my delight, I found her helping tear down the canopy where Matt’s memorabilia was being sold. I approached her quietly, watching as she wrestled with a support pole almost twice her size.
“Did you get a new job?” I whispered in her ear as I came up behind her. She jumped in surprise, whirling around, and whacking me in the shoulder with the aluminum pole.
“What the fuck, Finn? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“It’s nice to know I have some effect on your heart,” I quipped. “However, I didn’t expect you to attack me. I know I’m a lot to handle, but please… try to control yourself, Ms. Michaels.”
“You’re so full of yourself,” Kenni snorted as she playfully hit me on the other shoulder with the pole. It may not have been the physical contact I was aiming for, but her good humor gave me hope she might be warming up to me.
“Let me handle this for you,” I said, gently lifting the telescopic metal from her hands and pushing it into its compact size. “You’re dangerous.”
“That’s probably why they usually don’t let me help with this part. They were short on bodies, so I volunteered.”
I nodded as I looked over the team disassembling the last of the makeshift shop. The group seemed to have matters well in hand, so I walked over and tossed the pole on a pile with others, then turned back to Kenni.
“Take a walk with me,” I gently demanded, giving her no room to decline. Softly squeezing her elbow, I guided her away from what was left of the tent.
“You’re so bossy,” she protested, yet surprisingly made no effort to escape my grasp. I slid my hand down the length of her arm, taking her hand, my groin tightening with every second she made no move to break away.
Kenni’s hand felt soft and delicate in mine. Despite working with hard, sometimes heavy tools all day long, her skin was smoother than fine silk. I’d naturally assumed they’d be rough and callused, but it didn’t matter either way. Skin to skin contact with any part of her body was thrilling.
I led her to a quiet, darkened corner, just outside the perimeter of canopies in various states of disassembly under the concrete overhang of the stadium bleachers. I turned her toward me, cautiously settling my hands on her hips to bring her body closer to mine.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Kenni asked, still putting up no resistance.
“What I’ve wanted to do since I met you… hold you.”
“If Matt finds us, we’re going to be holding our asses,” she said as she braced her hands against my biceps rather than pushing me away.
“Let me deal with your brother when the time comes. For now, let’s just enjoy each other’s warmth. It’s January, after all.”
“This is such a bad idea,” she mumbled quietly but wiggled closer, the front of her body molding to mine. Her firm, perky breasts practically caressed my chest as she moved, heightening every one of my senses.
“Why, just because your brother hates me? I know I can bring him around with enough time and opportunity. If not, what difference does it make if I make you happy?”
“You have to make me happy first.” Her playful grin matched her mocking and playful tone.
“You seem pretty comfortable right now,” I replied, gripping her tighter and pushing my hips against hers, so she could feel the effect her body had on mine.
“Comfortable isn’t the word I’d use,” she said with a giggle, then quickly sobered. “But seriously, Finn, I’m not the kind of woman you can have a good time with, then walk away. I’m an investment, and I come with a certain amount of baggage. The kind no one wants,” she said as she finally moved away. The shadows falling across her face made it impossible to read her expression, but the sound of her voice hinted at sadness I didn’t understand.
“Don’t go, Kenni. Please…”
“No, don’t. Believe it or not, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry, but you’ll thank me eventually,” she said, leaving me standing alone in the dark.
She was starting to like me, I could sense it. I’d felt it just now as she let me hold her, the way she’d playfully teased me. Was she playing hard to get because she thought I was looking for a one-night stand? Admittedly, I’d enjoyed plenty of shenanigans with the groupies. Had I earned another bad rep?
***
The St. Louis race was a letdown. I placed third, following Matt Michaels and Earl Padgett. I was consoled by the fact I’d lost to a buddy who deserved a win, but to have Matt take the top spot was a bitter pill to swallow. Of course, Channing and Ralph insisted I could have won if I’d been willing to go the extra mile, ridden harder, checked them every chance I could. I listened to my guys drone on with the requisite head nodding and reaffirmation of my commitment to winning. My main regret was not having had a chance to get Kenni alone or do more than wave to her from afar. I’d never make any progress if I couldn’t get close to her, but Matt always seemed to be hovering around whenever I had the chance to happen by his pit.
The week after St. Louis, we were back in California. It was nice to practice at home since it afforded me a few extra hours to myself. I made use of the time to do some investigating behind the scenes, to learn where Matt was staying and where he practiced, hoping I could get to Kenni without his interference.
The Wednesday before the race, I hit the jackpot. I’d befriended a kid on Matt’s satellite team, Calvin, who called me first thing in the morning to let me know they’d all checked in at a motor hotel not few beers for a job well done, but I reminded him he was only nineteen and still underage. Besides, I had an ulterior motive. Within an hour, I set out on my street bike for the hotel.
When I arrived, Matt’s trailer was taking up several spots in the parking lot, along with a few other trucks and RVs. I watched from the opposite corner of the lot, waiting to see if anyone ventured out of the open-style two-story motor hotel. Calvin had already reported Kenni was in room two-twenty-five, so I kept my eyes peeled for any activity coming from the upper floor. I watched as Matt bounded down the stairs with another kid in tow, got into a red pickup, and sped off. They hadn’t loaded bikes into the truck bed, but others could have gone ahead. I didn’t know how much time I had. With an undefined number of minutes to talk to Kenni, I had to quickly convince her to come out with me.
When I felt sure the coast was clear, I headed for her door, wearing dark sunglasses and a Los Angeles Dodgers ball cap. I held my breath as I knocked on her door, unsure how well I’d be received after our last conversation. I saw a shadow move across the peephole before hearing the chain lock sliding back.
“What are you doing here, Finn?” Kenni asked as she opened the door, her eyes wide and confused. “How did you even know I was here?”
“I have contacts everywhere,” I intoned mysteriously. “I came to take you for a ride.” I didn’t realize how that sounded until I watched her eyes bulge before her mouth twisted in wry humor.
“You don’t pussyfoot around, do you?” she said, holding back her giggle.
“On my bike!” I hurried to add, casually leaning against the doorframe. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Unless you’re interested, of course, then I’m willing to accommodate you.”
“I know what you meant,” she replied, grinning. “I love how you jumped to set me straight, yet still let me know you’re down for the other interpretation.”
“What can I say? I’m a guy who likes to keep all his options on the table,” I said with a shrug. “I’m very flexible.”
“I thought that was my line,” she volleyed back without missing a beat. My mouth went dry at the thought of twisting her into any number of complicated positions. I cleared my throat and shifted my weight stiffly as she snickered. I didn’t understand how this blonde could knock me so off-kilter with just a few well-timed words.
“What do you say, Kenni? Come take a ride along the coast with me.”
&n
bsp; “Matt’s going to be back any minute. They just went out to pick up lunch.”
“Then you’d better hurry and decide,” I said, grinning. “I’ll throw in a couple sub sandwiches if you’re hungry.”
“Wow! Big spender! How do I refuse?” I was surprised she was being so genial and playful rather than her suspicious and slightly salty self. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was happy to see me. “Let me grab a sweatshirt.”
She disappeared into the shadows of her room before swiftly returning, wearing a red hoodie. I slung my arm over her shoulder as I steered her toward my bike.
“This thing is street legal?” she asked when we hit the sidewalk, waving a finger in the direction of my old Suzuki.
“Of course,” I replied, retrieving my spare helmet from the bike and dropping it on her head. Donning my own, I straddled the bike, laughing to myself as she climbed on the back with little grace. She pounded on my shoulders as she heard my muffled chuckling through my helmet. Not quieting for even a second, I gunned the motor, delighting in the loud braap it still made despite its modifications. I gave a smartass salute to Matt and company when they entered the driveway just as we pulled out, earning me another few thumps on my shoulders.
After a quick trip to a local sandwich chain for food-to-go, we packed the subs in the small backpack I’d brought, then headed for Pacific Coast Highway. I hadn’t selected a bike meant for cruising, that much was obvious. I’d grown up in New Jersey, and though east coast beaches were pretty, they were nothing compared to California’s. I don’t know whether the sun was just that much more dazzling, or if the blue of the water was bluer, but it was a place of magnificent beauty and tranquility—two things most people would never suspect I needed. I loved taking my “street” bike out for a highly illegal ride on the wet sand next to the water’s edge, and I wanted to share it with Kenni. She hadn’t given me much of a chance to get to know her, but sometimes, she had a certain look in her eyes that told me she would value a quiet spot away from the world as much as I did.
Ride: A Driven World Novel Page 4