by Amy Sparling
Hearing my name on his lips sends another shiver down my spine, one quite like the shiver I felt earlier when I he took off his shirt. I can’t believe he remembers my name from our brief meeting at the shop. “Maybe you’re right,” I say.
“I am.” Now there’s a hint of confidence in his voice. That’s the voice I expected him to have all along.
We slip into another silence. Aiden leans back, staring at the ceiling again, but I can tell he’s thinking by the furrow in his brow.
“Anyway… that’s my story,” I say, just for something to say. “I haven’t told Bella yet. I haven’t told anyone. Even my parents don’t know, but I’ll probably tell them tonight.”
“I’m sorry you were cheated on,” he says, lifting his head to look at me. “You don’t deserve that. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
I give him a look, and he must realize what I’m thinking—that he doesn’t even know me, so what could he possibly do?
He gives me an evil grin. “I could kick his ass?”
I laugh.
“No… But thanks for offering. You don’t want to break your other wrist.”
He scoffs. “I said I’d kick his ass. I wouldn’t get hurt in the process.”
“Oh yeah? What if he’s three hundred pounds of muscle?”
Aiden’s eyes widen. “Is he?”
I can’t help but smile. “No.”
“Well if you need someone’s ass kicked, just give me a call.”
He’s joking, and we’re both smiling, but there’s something incredibly sexy about having a guy offer to break the law for you.
“So how long are you in that cast?” I ask.
“Six weeks.” He rolls his eyes as if it’s the worst thing ever. “Well it started as six weeks. Now I’m down to five weeks. And then I’ll finally be able to get back on the bike. I miss it so much.”
“I know the feeling. I’m missing my bike but I can’t bring myself to go back to the track after what happened last time.”
“Does your ex ride?”
I nod.
Aiden lifts a brow. “He any good?”
His whole demeanor changes as he waits for my answer. I shake my head. “He’s okay. He’s not… professional or anything.”
Aiden grins. “Looks like you dodged a bullet. You deserve a man who is loyal and knows how to ride a dirt bike.”
I snort out a laugh. “And where am I going to find one of those?”
Aiden looks like he’s about to say something, and then, after a brief second he just shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “But that’s what you deserve.”
Chapter 7
How the hell could anyone cheat on her? She’s gorgeous and sweet and obviously smart. She rides dirt bikes and works at a bike shop. She is literally the definition of my dream girl.
And some jackhole threw her away for a fling? I don’t get it. Maybe he got hit on the head and forgot he was already dating the greatest girl on this side of the planet.
I close my eyes and let the hot bubbly water soothe muscles I just worked out. It’s not nearly as much fun keeping my right arm out of the water, but being in here with Jenn makes up for that small annoyance. I’m glad I took the risk and came in here. The hot tub feels amazing and I’ve made a new friend.
Well, maybe. I’m not sure if we’re in friends territory yet. But I know that’s all we can be. First of all, she’s way out of my league. Like ten thousand miles away from my league. And of course, the ever-present problem that comes with being a professional motocross racer – I’ll be gone as soon as this arm heals. My buddy and teammate Zach knew he couldn’t get attached because of our busy schedules and yet he recently went and got himself attached anyway. Dumbass. He seems really happy though, and I guess they’ll find a way to make it work. I know I wouldn’t be that lucky. There’s no sense in trying to date anyone.
I don’t think relationship bliss is in the cards for me. The more I think about it, the more I realize I have no idea how to date someone. Motocross has been my life for as long as I can remember. Mikey and I spent every waking second at the local track, and the only time I saw girls was in school. I had a couple girlfriends in junior high, which didn’t really count because all we did was hold hands in the hallway. And then in high school, I traveled every weekend for the races, going to every track within driving distance, and Mikey got famous with his professional racing deal, and I just didn’t have time for girls. I like girls. A lot. But there’s never been time.
Now, I’m sitting across from one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen and she’s got this content if not a little sad look on her face and I’d give my left nut to swim across the distance and kiss her.
But I wouldn’t even know how.
And she’s newly single, so kissing her would be a pretty jackass thing to do. She needs time to heal and get over him. And she needs to find someone better than me to date.
“So how are you liking Breaux Valley?” Jenn asks, breaking my contemplative silence.
“It’s… different,” I say honestly. “Quiet small towns are the complete opposite of my life back in Orlando.”
She nods like she understands. “Bella said the same thing. I’ve never been to Orlando, but it seems fun.”
“It is,” I say, and then because I’m not thinking well, I add, “I’ll take you some time.”
She brightens. “Harry Potter world?”
“Totally,” I say with a smile. “I’ve never been.”
“What! Why not? It looks awesome.”
I shrug. “I grew up in Orlando, but I don’t stay there very often. Now that I’m on Team Loco I travel a lot.”
“Well, we should totally go to Harry Potter world one day.”
“It’s a date,” I say. My heart races at the words and Jenn smiles.
Her smile quickly fades and she looks sad again as she runs her fingers through the water. Her lip quivers a bit but I think she’s holding back showing any emotions.
“It’s okay to be sad,” I tell her. “I’ve never been in a long relationship, but I can imagine it sucks when it’s over.”
She nods and her lip quivers again. She brings her wet hands to her face, wiping away tears. “I’m not sad, I’m just—” Her voice quavers and I’ve never wanted to hug someone as badly as I do now.
I should keep my distance. She’s newly single and we’re half-naked after all. I should definitely not hug her.
Jenn exhales and sits up straighter. She shakes her head as if she’s clearing it of whatever she’s thinking. “I’m not sad. I’m just pissed. I mean, why does he get to slip out of our relationship like that?”
She snaps her fingers but it doesn’t make much noise. “He hasn’t even said he’s sorry, I mean what the actual fuck.”
Damn, she’s sexy as hell when she cusses. I like this angry side of her.
“You should make him sorry,” I say.
She looks up at me, a hopeful glint in her eye. “What do you mean?”
“Get revenge.”
“And how do I do that?”
I consider it for a moment. “Date his best friend. No—date his enemy! Who does he think is his biggest competition on the track? Who is faster than he is? You should date that guy.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s Rafael. I really don’t think I should date a thirty-year-old husband and father.”
“Damn,” I say, shaking my head. “Yeah, probably shouldn’t do that.”
She grins. “Plus he works at my dad’s shop and he’s kind of like a brother to me, so that would just be terrible.”
I laugh. “Okay, so don’t date the faster racer. Date someone he doesn’t like.”
She lets her fingers float on the bubbly surface of the water. I’m trying to be a good friend here but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wishing I could see that bikini under all these bubbles.
“Jay has a lot of enemies,” she says finally. “He’s kind of an asshole. But I can’t exactly snap my fingers a
nd date some guy.”
Something tells me she could do just that if she had the desire.
“Maybe I should just go on with my life and act like it didn’t affect me,” she says, running her fingers through the water. “I’ll keep going to the track and riding and he can just fuck off. I’ll ignore him. I’ll show that I’m living my life just fine without him.”
A delightful and terrible idea comes to me. “Or… you could get a fake boyfriend.”
“What, like hire an escort?” she says with a snort.
I shake my head. “Date a professional racer.”
Her eyes go wide. I swear I think she might blush. Her tongue slips across her bottom lip before she speaks. “And that professional racer would be…”
I grin and point to myself. “Aiden Strauss, five week fake lover, at your service.”
She laughs. Actually laughs. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and the sound of her happiness is like music to my ears.
She shakes her head and flicks her fingers in the water, sending a small bit of it at my chest. “Very funny,” she says.
“Hey! I’m being serious.” I put a hand to my chest like I’m offended. “Am I not good enough? I know I’m broken, but I am still a pro. I bet it would piss the hell out of your ex.”
“It’s more like you’re too good,” she says, her eyes meeting mine for just a fraction of a second before darting away. “You’re famous. No one would believe you’d actually date me.”
This girl is so very wrong. I would date her in a heartbeat if I thought I could. If I lived here full time and didn’t have a crazy career, I’d be putting all the moves on her, trying to make her mine.
Instead, I play it cool. “It’s easy. Picture it—you arrive at the track with Aiden Strauss. Everyone’s like ‘oh my god, there’s a famous racer!’ and as they approach me for an autograph, I slide my arm around you and tug you close to me. I place a kiss on your head. All the girls swoon and wish they were you.”
Her mouth parts slightly as she watches me talk. I take her interest as encouragement to keep talking out this fantasy. “I say, ‘no autographs right now.. I’m with my girl’ and everyone looks sad but they’re also looking at you with admiration. I mean, you’re dating THE Aiden Strauss. We sit on the bleachers and watch the races, and I snuggle you close to my side, keeping my arm possessively around you. If you’re thirsty, I get you a drink. I am a doting, loyal, caring boyfriend. That jackhole ex of yours shows up and someone says, ‘dude did you see Jenn’s new boyfriend?’ and he looks over and sees you being perfectly happy with a real man, and he suddenly realizes his mistake. His dick shrivels up and falls off because it knows he will never be man enough to date again.”
Jenn bursts out laughing. “Oh my God,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand. “That was perfect.”
“I know. I should be a romance author or something.”
When her laughter subsides, she bites down on her bottom lip, looking a little shy. Like maybe she wants to accept my offer but doesn’t know how.
“What have you got to lose?” I say. “Five week fake boyfriend. I guarantee you it’ll piss him off. You’ll get your revenge.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t use you like that.”
“It’s not using me,” I say. “I’m offering. I’m stuck here for the next five weeks so what else would I be doing? Plus, you can even dump me when it’s over.”
“Aww, I wouldn’t dump you,” she says playfully. It sends some kind of shockwave right through my heart. I know she’s playing, but I like hearing the words.
“This is silly,” she says after a beat. “I mean… pretend dating? You’re not really serious, are you?”
“I’m dead serious,” I say. “It’d be an honor to be your fake boyfriend.”
In my head, I substitute the word fake for real, and it makes my insides go all fuzzy. God, I would love to be her real boyfriend. I’d love a life that allows relationships. Of course, who knows if I’d be any good at it. Maybe this fake thing is exactly what I need. I can figure out exactly how to be a good boyfriend for when the time comes that I can date without my career getting in the way.
I look across at Jenn and I know I’m shooting myself in the foot. There’s no way I won’t fall for her just a little bit, even though I know it’s all pretend. She’s the whole package. But it’s better this way. We can go into it knowing it’s just a fling, just a pretend arrangement. That way no one gets hurt.
It’s probably better if she turns me down, but I desperately hope she says yes.
“So what’ll it be?” I ask, my heart pounding. “Want to fake date me and piss off your ex?”
Her beautiful pink lips slide into a grin. Her eyes narrow. “I think you’re crazy. But… maybe I’m crazy too.”
I smirk. “So let’s be crazy together.”
Chapter 8
I am nervous all morning at work. It’s Saturday and it’s a race day at the local track. Race days are crazy busy, but that’s not why it feels like there’s a rock lodged in my throat and butterflies doing acrobatics in my stomach.
Jay hasn’t come in yet.
Thirty Six Cycles sells a premium racing gas that we have to import from some fuel company and it’s very expensive. All the fastest riders stop by our shop before race days to buy a few gallons of it. Jay always stops by first thing in the morning on race days.
It’s two hours until the races begin, and he hasn’t come in yet. I stand anxiously behind the counter, my eyes darting to the door every time someone comes in. I’m still not ready to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to look at him and remember how he looked the last time I saw him.
Last night I broke the news to my parents. I took the easy way out told them over a text message. I was feeling giddy and stupid after spending an hour in the hot tub with Aiden freaking Strauss, and he had almost convinced me that it would be fun to be his pretend girlfriend. As soon as I got home, I sent my parents a text through our family group chat that said:
I broke up with Jay. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s really not a big deal, I just wanted you to know.
Mom had called me immediately after, and I did my best fake happy voice, acting like nothing was wrong and that it was totally fine. I didn’t tell them that he cheated. Not to save his integrity or anything but, honestly because I worry my dad would try to kick his ass or something.
Now, my news is out in the open, and I’m at work and my dad is acting normal toward me, which is great. I know my parents assumed Jay and I would probably get married one day, and of course I assumed that too.
Oh well. It's not happening. Time to move on.
The door to the shop opens and I flinch. But it’s not him, thank God. It’s just the dad of a kid who races every weekend. I smile and greet him and sell him some race gas and then let out a long sigh of relief.
I check my watch again. Jay is always at the races by now. He’s probably not coming. He should know better than to show up here now.
Of course, there’s no other place within a hundred miles to buy race gas, so who knows. We live in a small town and I know I’ll see him again at some point, but I’m going to cherish every moment I have until that happens.
I feel a buzz in the back pocket of my shorts and I take out my phone. I’m still not used to the new background photo – a cute cat picture I found online – but the name on my screen is very familiar.
Jay: you ready to talk yet?
I stare, open-mouthed at the text message. What the fuck is his deal? Am I ready to talk? Of course I don’t want to talk! I don’t owe him a talk. I don’t owe him shit.
I put the phone back in my pocket, leaving his pathetic text unanswered.
When the shop door opens again, my heart leaps into overdrive. Jay’s text was about ten minutes ago and that’s about how long it would take him to drive here from his house. Oh God. Please don’t be him. The store is filled with customers and I can’t stand the idea of facin
g my cheating ex when I’m at work.
A familiar figure walks inside, setting my fears at ease. But just as quickly as I’m relieved that it’s not Jay, I get nervous again.
Because it’s Aiden.
He looks incredibly sexy in a pair of black shorts, Adidas shoes, and a blue Team Loco shirt that fits him like it was designed for his muscular body. Hell, maybe it was. It looks like a plain T-shirt from here, but it can’t possibly be plain because he makes it look so good.
He lifts the sunglasses off his eyes and grins at me from across the shop. His dark hair is a little messy but in this sexy way, like it’s just waiting for me to run my hands through it. To grip my hand in his hair and tug his mouth to mine…
“Morning,” he says, walking up to the counter. His lips tip up in this smirk that makes my stomach tense up. He leans his elbows on the counter in front of me. “I figured I would find you here. We made a huge mistake last night.”
My throat goes dry. I should have seen this coming. Of course he doesn’t want to pretend to be anything with me. God, I feel like an idiot.
“Yeah, sorry—” I begin, but he cuts me off by sliding his phone across the counter.
“We forgot to exchange numbers.”
I stare at him as I realize he was just making a stupid joke earlier. He grins at me.
“Don’t look so scared, it’s just a number.”
I snap out of it real quick. “I’m not scared,” I say sarcastically as I take his phone. The screen is already unlocked. With shaking fingers, I type in my number and save it. I can’t believe I’m this nervous to be this close to a guy.
“Thanks babe,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He holds out his good hand toward me. “Your turn.”
I take out my phone, unlock the screen and immediately close out my texts that were still open. I go to the contacts list and create a new one, then hand him my phone.
He’s a little clumsy using a phone with only his left hand, and he brings his cast up to steady it. I watch him, how his bottom lip turns under his teeth while he types in his number. God, everything this guy does is sexy. I wonder if being that good looking is some kind of supernatural skill that makes him faster on a dirt bike.