Alluring Aiden (Team Loco Book 2)

by Amy Sparling

  “Cool,” I say. I wouldn’t mind stopping by this track sometime. Just because I can’t ride doesn’t mean I have to stay away. Being at a track, surrounded by exhaust fumes and loud motors is my favorite place in the world.

  Bella parks next to a shiny black Camaro that’s facing the main road with a For Sale sign on the windshield. It’s a pretty nice car, and seems to be in great shape. Not a scratch on it and the interior is clean and well-maintained. It smells like girly shampoo in here which tells me that a girl probably owned it.

  “Hey there, Bella,” a middle-aged man says as he approaches us. “Back for another look?”

  “This is my brother,” Bella says, motioning to me.

  The man’s eyes light up in recognition. “No shit! Aiden Strauss in the flesh! Good to meet you boy.” He goes to shake my hand but I hold up my cast.

  “Sorry, I’m out of order.”

  “Aww, man, what a shame. How long are you out for?”

  “Six weeks,” I say with a sigh.

  He claps me on the back. “Well, you’ll get back out there before you know it. I’m a big fan of Team Loco. It’s really nice to meet you.”

  “Guess what, Mr. Doherty,” Bella says. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Aiden is going to buy this car for me.”

  Mr. Doherty beams. “All right. Wonderful! Jenn will be excited that the car is going to you. She specifically told me not to sell it to some asshole.”

  Bella grins. “I told her I was going to do everything I could to buy it.”

  He leads us inside the motorcycle shop and says something about us arriving at the right time because the power was recently restored. He says he’ll go get the title and paperwork and meet us back here in a minute. I breathe in the smell of the bike shop, all rubber and oil and new gear. I love it.

  “Come on,” Bella says, tugging my good arm toward the front of the store. “I gotta tell Jenn the good news.”

  Jenn must be the girl behind the counter. She hasn’t looked up at us yet, but I can tell from here that she’s beautiful. One of those girls that are born just naturally stunning. She has long light brown hair and sexy pink lips. My eyes are drawn to her lips as we approach the front counter. She’s staring at her phone and she seems sad. But damn, is she sexy as hell. Even under her black T-shirt I can tell she’s got curves in all the right places.

  And what’s better than anything is that she’s clearly older than my sister. She’s around my age for sure.

  Bella rushes up to the girl and tells her the good news. She smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s definitely something bothering this girl.

  “My brother is buying your car,” Bella says, looking back at me.

  That’s when Jenn also meets my gaze. Her eyes widen for a second, the recognition dawning on her just like it did with Mr. Doherty. To most people on the planet, I’m just some guy. But to people connected with the motocross world, I’m a professional racer. Being kind of famous never gets old.

  Sometimes the only thing that gets me through lonely nights of being single is hitting up my social media and seeing all the dirty photos random girls send me. I don’t exactly get off on them, but the attention feels nice.

  I haven’t been with a girl in forever, and the tightness in my pants right now is making me uncomfortable.

  Jenn nods once at me. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same,” I choke out. Damn. I need to get my shit together. She’s just some gorgeous girl that I’ll never see again after my wrist is healed. Yet I can’t stop picturing kissing those perfect lips.

  Luckily, Mr. Doherty comes back with paperwork and kills my boner instantly. It helps if I don’t look at Jenn anymore. I write a check for the car and he signs the title over to me, and then we’re on our way. Bella is so excited she can’t stand it as we walk out to her new car.

  “Ah, damn.” I say with a sigh. “This means I have to drive the shitty Taurus back to Grandma’s.”

  She laughs and tosses me the keys. “Yup!”

  “How much further until we’re at Grandma’s?” I ask.

  “Only about five minutes,” Bella says. “Then we can say hello to Grandma, drop off your stuff, and go for a ride in my new car!” Her eyes narrow mischievously. “Or… we could come back here.”

  “Why would we do that?” I say.

  She gives me a knowing grin. “So you can flirt with Jenn.”

  I do my best impression of acting like I have no idea what she’s talking about. “You’re insane.”

  She laughs. “I saw the way you looked at her! But you might as well get over it because she totally has a boyfriend. It’s this guy named Jay and they’ve been together for a few years.”

  Damn. I try not to let it show, but that sucks. Not that I would admit it to Bella, but it had crossed my mind to come back here and flirt with Jenn. I’m so off my game that I have no idea how to talk to a girl. But Jenn was sexy enough to make me try.

  I guess that idea is pointless now.

  Chapter 4

  Dad holds up the check as if looking at it from a different angle somehow makes it better. “Can you believe it?” he says, beaming at the small piece of paper. “I’m holding an autograph from Aiden Strauss! That’s pretty cool.”

  I yank it away from him. “Too bad it’s going straight to the bank.”

  My dad is so starstruck that he might not even cash the check if it belonged to him. Unfortunately for him, it was my car we just sold and I’m keeping the money. It’s going toward paying off my new truck.

  Dad frowns. “I should have asked for his autograph on something else.”

  Dad has worked in this motocross world for over twenty years and you’d think he’d be used to it by now. But anytime the rare event happens when someone even mildly famous comes to the shop, he gets all excited like he’s a kid on Christmas morning. I know Aiden’s sister Bella from around town. She’s still in high school but it’s a small town so it’s hard not to know everyone here. I’ve seen her at the track before and sometimes we take walks together at the local park. I’ll try to see if I can ask her to get her brother to sign something for my dad and I’ll give it to him for his birthday. He’d probably freak out.

  I smile a little at the thought, and then tuck the check away in my purse for safe keeping. I’m glad I sold my old car but I still have to work until closing, so I can’t take it to the bank yet.

  Dad gets a call and heads into his office and I ring up a purchase for a lone customer. Once the customer pays, he walks out the door, leaving the shop in silence except for a distant hum of one of the mechanic’s drills.

  It’s too quiet. All the thoughts I’ve been trying to keep at bay come flooding back to me when it’s quiet. It hasn’t even been a whole twenty-four hours since the worst day of my life.

  It feels so much longer though. I haven’t slept. I’ve barely eaten. I’m surprised no one has said anything about how shitty I look today, but I’m grateful for it nonetheless. I don’t want any attention. I don’t want anyone asking about what’s got me so sad.

  My boyfriend is a cheater.

  That’s the worst part. It’s not just that we’re over, that my three-year relationship that I’d thought was going so well is just ripped in half and tossed on a burning pile of memories. No. It’s not that it’s over.

  It’s that he cheated.

  With Miranda Brown.

  My lip curls just thinking about her. Of all the women in the world, he slept with her. Gross.

  It dawns on me that I need to get an STD test immediately. I have no idea how long he’s been unfaithful, and if anyone is covered with STDs, it’s that bitch Miranda.

  I let out a long sigh and run my hand over my face. This is not how I expected my junior year of college to go. This isn’t at all part of the plan. A week ago, I was entertaining the idea that Jay might propose to me before my next birthday. Now, I am single.

  The rest of the workday is pretty slow. We get a few customers
, but mostly I’m just standing here trying not to cry. I reorganize the shelves and restock inventory and do everything I can think of to stay busy and keep my mind off Jay. But every time I look at my phone, I’m thinking of him. I changed my phone wallpaper last night, so at least I don’t have to see his stupid face anymore. But the sheer lack of notifications on my phone is making this really hard.

  Jay hasn’t called me or texted me. He hasn’t reached out on social media. He hasn’t even bothered saying he’s sorry.

  I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I want to talk to him. But still. We were together three years. I guess that meant nothing to him.

  I sink my head in my palm and lean against the front counter, my gaze going out the window. I see the road, and the place where my old Camaro used to sit before we sold it. I’m glad Bella got the car. I know she wanted it pretty badly.

  I’m sure all my friends at the motocross track would think it’s pretty cool that Aiden Strauss bought my car, but I don’t even feel like calling anyone up to talk about it. Who cares. He’s just some famous guy.

  And he’s gorgeous, way hotter than he looks online. That’s saying something because he looks like a damn snack online. But I couldn’t even enjoy the eye candy when he was in the shop because all I kept thinking was that a guy like that probably cheats on his girlfriends, too. Motocross guys can’t be trusted. The faster they are, the more notoriety they gain in the racing world, the more they can’t be trusted. Women throw themselves at guys like that. That’s why I don’t care that I met the famous Aiden Strauss or that he bought my car.

  He’s probably a scumbag just like Jay.

  Somehow I make it through my shift at work, and then I’m finally driving home. I don’t bother asking Rafael if he’s going riding tonight. It’s perfect weather for it, but I’m not in the mood to see my dirt bike. I don’t want to see the track. I don’t want to run into Jay.

  I hate that he’s doing this, breaking my heart and taking away my favorite sport at the same time. I hate it. I hate him.

  I drive home without music. I’m so caught up in my heartache that I forget to turn it on. Soon, I’m pulling into the driveway of my garage apartment and cutting the engine and dashing inside so I can finally cry all the tears I’ve been holding back all day.

  I’m so glad I live out here, away from my parents. I spent my first two years of college in the dorms, which sucked. But now that I’m a junior, I wasn’t required to be on campus but I also didn’t want to move back home with my parents because I felt like I’d grown used to being independent and I wanted to stay that way.

  But the problem with a small town like Breaux Valley is that there’s no apartment complexes. Barely any rental properties. If I wanted to stay in my hometown, close to work and the dirt bike track, I’d need to figure something out. I didn’t have enough money to buy a house, and Jay had said he didn’t feel right living together before we were officially engaged, so I couldn’t move in with him.

  A sick feeling shudders through me at the thought. That was just four months ago that we’d had the conversation. Jay’s been renting a house in town from his uncle and it has three bedrooms and plenty of space. I’d mentioned moving in and he shut me down. Now I guess I know why. He was probably never planning on proposing to me.

  Anyhow, my dad got the brilliant idea to turn the garage into an apartment. It’s a two-story building that’s set off at the edge of my parent’s property. It has its own driveway and everything. The upstairs had always been one massive rec room with a bathroom. Over the summer, we renovated it to be a studio apartment. The only rent I have to pay is the cost of the property taxes and insurance, which is pretty cheap.

  Thank God I have my own place right now. I cry the second I walk inside. I drop onto my couch and hold the throw pillow against my chest and just let it all out. The pain and the betrayal and the anger. Because of all people, Jay cheated on me with that whore. I hate her. I hate him.

  They deserve each other.

  After a long time of crying, I feel like I’ve cried all I possibly can. I sit up and dry my eyes and place a hand over my chest just to feel my heartbeat. I don’t feel very sad anymore. I’m mostly just pissed off.

  I’m pissed at my cheating ex-boyfriend, but I’m also pissed at myself. How could I have been so stupid? Here I was thinking we were this amazing couple who was happy and in love, and really it was nothing like that.

  I stand up and take a deep breath. I tell myself to move on and get over it. To be a woman. To be strong.

  I don’t need that asshole in my life.

  My phone rings. It’s probably my mom calling to invite me to dinner like she does almost every night. I decide to tell her I’m sick so I can get out of it. It’s halfway true, since I am sick in a way.

  But Jay’s number flashes on my phone instead of my mom’s. I stare at it while it rings, two, three, four times.

  It took him long enough.

  But I don’t answer.

  I’m a little ashamed at how long I stare at the phone, wondering if he’s going to leave a voicemail. He doesn’t.

  I set the phone down and then look at the framed photo of us on the end table. I pick it up, frame and all, and throw it in the trash. Then I peel the photos off the refrigerator, and the walls, and on my nightstand. I get rid of all of them.

  I remove the cell phone case he bought for me for Christmas and toss it in the garbage. I go through my closet, taking the shirts that remind me of him, the black lace bra he bought for me, and the bottle of perfume he likes the most.

  I throw them all away.

  Tears slip down my cheeks, but it feels cathartic to dismantle my whole apartment. Anything he bought me over the last three years goes straight in the trash.

  An hour later, my apartment is a little less decorated, but it’s a lot better off. I feel clean. I feel new again.

  I am no longer a part of a couple. I am just me.

  When my phone rings again just after six o’clock, dread rises in my stomach again, but the caller is from a number I don’t know.

  “Hello?” I answer, taking great care to sound like I haven’t been crying.

  “Hello, I’m calling for Jenn Doherty.”

  “This is she,” I say.

  The female voice on the other line perks up. “This is Blithe with the LaValle Fitness and Physical Therapy Center, and I wanted to let you know that we’ve selected you for an internship this semester. Are you still interested in the position?”

  I feel like screaming out of sheer joy, but somehow I keep my composure. “Yes, absolutely. I would love that.”

  “Wonderful! You can start this week if your schedule allows, and I’ll send you all the information via email.”

  Once we hang up, I do a little dance in my living room. I got the internship. I got it. Not just any one of the dozen I applied to, but the one I really wanted. LaValle is here in town, so it’s not far away. I can intern there on the days I’m not in class and I can work part-time at the shop on the weekends. For most of my life I’ve known I wanted to be a physical therapist. Now I’m one step closer.

  And, I think as I stop dancing and allow a smile to wash out the sadness I’ve felt for so long now, having an internship, a job, and classes makes for a busy schedule.

  There’s no time to be heartbroken when you’re busy.

  Chapter 5

  I never thought I’d say this, but my grandma is actually cool. Mom always made it seem like she was some old hag who hated us, but in my three days here I know that’s the opposite. Grandma is only sixty-eight years old, so she’s not even as old as I had thought she was. She’s vibrant and cheerful and spends a lot of time in her garden. She likes to talk about her late husband, the grandfather I never met. She really seems to love my sister and now me. She tells me at least three times a day that I’m welcome here as long as I’d like to stay.

  Despite the love and abundance of home cooked meals, it’s boring here, out in the boondocks
in the middle of swampy Louisiana, and I could see myself getting restless if I had to live here full time.

  But for now, a few days of relaxing and hanging with my sister has been pretty great. My stress is gone, and my arm doesn’t hurt too much if I just lounge around binge-watching TV shows all day.

  Of course, I miss motocross. I miss it a lot. When I’m not broken, I’m riding six days a week, racing once a week, and spending all my free time with the guys on my motocross team. We travel to a new city each week during racing seasons, and right now I’d be in Nevada with the guys if I was still racing.

  I’ve been staying off social media lately because if I get on there, I’ll see Team Logo’s posts and I’ll get depressed that I’m not there. But I was the dumbass who lost control of my bike and got my wrist broken. This six weeks of time out is my own damn fault.

  On Friday morning, I wake up to the smell of sausage and pancakes. Grandma is watching the news on a little television in the kitchen while she cooks a mound of food that could feed a small army.

  “Looks good,” I say, yawning as I enter the yellow kitchen. It’s the best room in the whole house, painted brightly and decorated with fresh flowers from Grandma’s garden. Plus the whole back wall is made of floor to ceiling windows that look out into the backyard. You can even hear birds chirping in the mornings. It’s some peaceful shit. Way better than waking up in a hotel room.

  “Morning, Love,” Grandma says. She calls Bella and me that. She gives me a plate and starts piling food on it. All the favorites—grits, sausage, eggs, bacon, and toast.

  I kiss her on the cheek and then take my plate to the dining table that faces the backyard.

  Bella saunters in a few minutes later and pours herself a cup of coffee, adding a ton of creamer and sugar to it. She grabs a slice of toast and takes a bite before dropping into the chair next to me.

  “You’re gonna get fat,” she says, taking one look at my overflowing plate.

  “I already am,” I say, patting my stomach. I’m slowly losing my six pack since I haven’t worked out in two weeks.