by Amy Sparling
But so far, it’s worth it.
Chapter 23
Bella is waiting for me on the front porch when I get back to Grandma’s house. It’s only nine-thirty in the morning, and I figured she’d still be asleep, which is the only reason I left Jenn’s warm bed that smells like her. Bella stands from the porch swing and crosses her arms.
“I’m sorry I had you car all night,” I say.
“I don’t care about that,” she says, making an even more annoyed face than she’d had a few minutes ago.
I jog up the three porch stairs. “Then what’s wrong?”
She smacks my arm. “Jett just told me you plan on racing today!”
“Oh.” I scratch my neck. “Yeah… well, it’s just for fun. And how the hell have you already talked to Jett?”
“Instagram.” She glares at me. “You’re only on the first week of your physical therapy. You’re not supposed to be riding.”
I shrug. “I feel fine.”
She doesn’t lessen her glare. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“I won’t,” I say, stepping past her and letting myself inside. Grandma’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so at least she’s not here when Bella storms in after me, still fuming and treating me like I’m the little sibling instead of the other way around.
“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” she says.
“I won’t get hurt,” I say, handing her car keys to her. “It’s just one small town race where I’ll be faster than everyone else. It’s just five laps. There’s no competition.”
Her nostrils flare. “If it’s so pointless and simple then why bother doing it? You don’t need to risk hurting yourself.”
I shrug, seeing Jay’s cocky grimace in the back of my mind. I can’t back out now. “I just feel like it.”
“What does Jenn think about all this?”
I stop in my tracks. Bella’s eyes widen. “You haven’t told her?”
I shake my head.
“Didn’t you spend the night at her house?”
I’m sure I look guilty as hell right now, which actually makes my sister laugh. “Trust me, I wanted to tell her,” I say. I spent all night wanting to tell her that I agreed to race tomorrow, but I knew she’d be against it and I didn’t want to argue, not on the first day we decided to make this official.
I explain it to Bella, but she only looks more annoyed. “So why are you even racing? Just don’t do it.”
I sigh and sink into the couch, running my hand down my forehead. “Her ex-boyfriend challenged me to a race.”
Bella laughs. Not sarcastically either—she’s actually laughing like I’m a comedian and she’s sitting in the audience having the time of her life.
Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.
She wipes her eyes. “Oh my God, what are you, like twelve? Since when do you need to race against some dickhead to prove your worth? You’ve been faster than small town racers since you were a kid.”
I know she’s right. I know I’m faster than this guy even though I’ve never seen him ride. I know it shouldn’t bother me and I should have just told him to piss off. But I didn’t. And I can’t back down now. There’s no telling how many people he’s already bragged about this race to. I can’t be the guy who made a promise and didn’t show up.
Bella frowns. “You need to tell your new girlfriend before she finds out from someone else.”
“You’re right,” I say as my shoulders fall.
She grins. “I’m always right!”
I toss a throw pillow at her. “Sometimes you’re right. Don’t get too carried away, kid.”
Thirty Six Cycles is packed when I arrive an hour later. I pull my baseball cap on and try to blend in, hoping I don’t become a spectacle since I’m only here to talk to my girlfriend. I make my way to the front counter and stand in line behind a woman who is purchasing a new helmet.
Jenn brightens when she sees me. “Hello, sir,” she says with a cute smile on her face. “How can I help you today?”
She’s so bubbly and adorable and it kills me that I’m about to say something she won’t want to hear. “Can we talk for a second?” I ask, glancing around. There’s no one in line right now but that could change at any moment.
Her eyes flash with worry. “It’s nothing serious,” I say to set her mind at ease.
“Okay,” she says, motioning for me to walk around the counter to her side. “What’s up? I saw the guys in here earlier.”
“Did they say anything?” She doesn’t seem pissed off at me, so I’m guessing they didn’t tell her I’m racing today.
She tucks her hair behind her ears. “We were so busy I didn’t get to talk to them. They just bought some race gas and then left.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. So she doesn’t know yet. “Listen…” I say, trying to formulate the words in my mind before I say them out loud. “Yesterday Jay challenged me to race him.”
Her eyebrow quirks. I keep talking. “I don’t know why I was stupid enough to accept it but I agreed. We’re going to race today.”
“Where?” she says. “Like for fun or..?”
I shake my head. “At the races…”
Her eyebrows pull together. “Like in the races? But you can’t race. You’re still healing!”
I shrug. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. I feel fine. I just can’t back down, you know?”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, you could back down. No one would care.”
“I’d care,” I say.
She almost looks sad for me, but I guess that’s better than being pissed off like Bella was. “Okay,” she says finally. “If you want to race then I can’t stop you.” She puts a hand on my arm. “Just be careful.”
“Are you mad at me?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’m here for you. I support you.”
I take her face in my hands and kiss her, temporarily forgetting that we’re in a store filled with customers. That her dad might be around here somewhere. I don’t care. I’m crazy about this girl.
When I pull away, her cheeks are flushed pink. She grins up at me. “I guess I’ll see you at the track later.”
I kiss her forehead. “I can’t wait.”
Word must have gotten out that three other members of Team Loco are in town, because the track is overflowing with spectators tonight. The guys are signing so many autographs I worry that they’ll get carpal tunnel. I’ve managed to keep out of the spotlight for the most part by hanging out in the motorhome that Jett and Clay rented for the night. It’s nice to have some privacy when you’re stuck in the spotlight.
I’m icing my wrist and watching TV on the tiny screen in the kitchen of our rented motorhome.
Clay walks in, closing the door quickly behind him. “I miss small towns,” he says, grabbing a soda from the mini fridge. “There’s a certain charm to them, eh?”
“Totally,” I say.
“So Jett told me about your girl,” he says, sliding across from me at the little table in the kitchen. “How you’re racing just to show up her ex.”
I shrug. “It’s pathetic. I know.”
He snorts. “It’s not pathetic. Guys do stupid shit to please the girls they like.”
I know he’s trying to be reassuring, but it doesn’t help. This whole thing is stupid. My wrist has been hurting all damn day. I don’t want to ride tonight. I don’t care about Jay because I know without a doubt that I’d beat him in a race. But is it worth screwing up my wrist just to prove a point?
Jenn’s name flashes on my phone. I nod to Clay and then answer it. “Hi babe.”
“I’m here,” she says. I can hear dirt bikes in the background of the phone and in real life.
“Cool, I’m in the motorhome by Jett’s rental truck. We’re pretty easy to find.”
“Oh, I know,” she says. “I’m already here.”
“Cool. Come inside.”
“I’d rather not.”
The way her
voice shakes makes me feel like shit. I had forgotten about what happened last time she walked into a motorhome. Dammit. Now I feel like the worst boyfriend ever. I rush to the door and jog outside, finding her standing next to Jett, the phone to her ear.
I lower my phone and end the call, then scoop her up in my arms. “Sorry about that,” I whisper.
“It’s okay,” she says. But I can tell it’s not. She’s shaken up by the very idea of a motorhome. Fuck Jay for treating her like this.
With her still in my arms, I turn around in a circle. She grins and holds onto me. “Don’t drop me,” she says.
“Never,” I say back, kissing her just before I set her back down on the ground.
Searing pain shoots through my wrist. I can’t help but wince.
“Are you okay?” she says, stepping back. “Oh my god, did I hurt you?”
“No, of course not,” I say, shaking off the pain. “Damn wrist has been hurting all day.”
She frowns. “Let me see.”
I hold out my wrist and she takes it in her small fingers, rubbing the joint softly. I wince.
“You need to stay off it,” she says. “You’ll break it again, and this time it’ll be a million times worse.”
I can see the fear in her eyes, the worry. She doesn’t want me hurt, and I should feel the same way. I’ve already missed two months of motocross—and paychecks—with my team because of this injury. Is it really worth risking more just to show up some guy who doesn’t matter?
“I’m not going to race,” I say.
Her eyes brighten. “Really?”
I nod, sliding my hands around her waist. “It’s too much of a risk.”
She melts into me, laying her head against my chest. “Thank you.”
I slide my fingers through her hair even though the gentle movement still hurts. I should get the ice pack and keep it iced for a while.
“Maybe we should just get out of here,” I say.
She looks up at me. “Well, don’t you want to hang out with the guys?”
I glance at them and shrug. “I see them all the time. I need some one on one time with my physical therapist.”
“Martha?” Jenn says sarcastically. “Why do you want to be with her?”
I roll my eyes and tickle her ribcage which makes her squeal. “You know what I mean! I meant my physical therapist intern.”
She grins. “That’s more like it.”
I kiss her again, letting my lips linger on hers a little longer than appropriate for being in public. She sighs, her hands pressed flat against my chest. It’s all I can do not to pick her up and sneak off somewhere to make out.
When we pull away she looks just as dazed as I do. I grin. “What are you doing later tonight?”
“I’ll be seeing you,” she says, sliding her finger down my chest. “In the same place you slept last night.”
A shiver runs through me at the very thought of being next to her in bed again. “Can we go now?”
She laughs. “We can… but I want food first. They have the best cheesy fries in the concession stand.”
I put a hand to my chest, pretending that I’m wounded. “She chooses cheesy fries over me…”
“Hell yeah I do,” Jenn says playfully as she slips her fingers into mine and leads the way to the concessions. “You taste good and all, but you provide no sustenance whatsoever.”
I love when she’s in a playful mood like this. It’s so much nicer than seeing the pain that lingered behind her eyes those first few times we hung out. As we walk through the crowds of people, it feels like nothing could kill my happiness right now. Not until Jay steps out in front of us, when we’re just a few steps away from the concession stand.
“Ready to lose to a local racer?” he snarls. I grip Jenn’s hand tightly in mine. I can feel her whole body tense up at seeing her ex. I step forward a bit, shielding her body from his view. “I’m not gonna race you, man.”
Jay’s brows shoot up his forehead. “You’re seriously going to back out?”
I shrug.
It occurs me now that I don’t have anything to prove to him. Jay is an egotistical meat head who fights with his fists, not his brain. He spends his whole life trying to be better than everyone else, and for what? To make himself feel better. This is the kind of weak man that Jenn wasted years of her life on. She deserves so much better.
So even as Jay continues to insult me, tightening his fists at his sides like he’s two seconds away from throwing the first punch, I just shrug and take a step back.
“I’m not gonna fight you.”
I glance at Jenn who is watching the scene unfold with a terrifying look in her eyes. I squeeze her hand and turn back to face Jay.
“You can tell the whole world whatever you want to tell them, but I don’t need to beat you in a race to prove that I’m the better man. I’ve already done that.”
Chapter 24
My cheesy fries taste even better than usual tonight. Or maybe it’s just my extraordinarily good mood that’s making everything better. The sun setting in the sky is more beautiful than I remember. The sound of dirt bikes on the track is like music to my ears. And the smell of Aiden’s cologne while he sits next to me on the bleachers must have some kind of magical powers because all I want to do is snuggle against him.
We’re already sitting close. My leg is up against his while we hang out near the top of the large metal bleachers that overlook the track. The races have begun, but we’re only a couple motos in to what will be a long night with at least twenty six different races. They’re separated out by ages and size of bikes. Right now the little kids are on the track, their tiny bikes barely making a sound as they cruise around slowly.
Aiden leans over and steals one of my cheesy fries. “These things are good.”
“I told you,” I say, taking another bite.
One girl walks up the bleachers, smiling at Aiden as he passes. He gives her a polite nod. When I was with Jay, I would get jealous of things like this, because it was always initiated by him. He flirted with girls all the time. But it’s different with Aiden. He’s a celebrity around here and people are drawn to him. He’s just being nice. His gaze doesn’t linger on the girl, and he doesn’t turn around to check out her ass like Jay would have done.
Being with Aiden makes me wonder how I ever put up with Jay in the first place. Aiden and I finish off my cheese fries, and suddenly there’s no reason for me to be here anymore.
“You wanna get out of here?” I ask.
The bright lights overhead make his eyes sparkle as they narrow at me. “I thought you’d never ask.”
As soon as we get into my apartment, I shove the door closed behind us and lock it. I toss my truck keys on the table and then throw my arms around Aiden’s neck.
He chuckles as I lean against him, my fingers sliding through his air. “What’s this for?” he asks, his hands sending a shiver down my spine as they slowly move down my sides, stopping on my hips.
“I just really like you,” I say, gazing into his eyes. “How you handled Jay tonight… that was really great of you. It was sexy.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
I lean up on my toes and kiss him quickly. “It was really sexy. I like that you don’t have to act all macho.”
He shrugs. “I’m macho where it counts.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, poking him playfully in the chest. “And where does it count?”
“Right now,” he says, faking a caveman type voice. His hands slide under my butt and he pulls me toward him, then he lifts me off my feet, wrapping my legs around his waist.
I see him wince the second he does it, probably because his wrist shouldn’t be picking up fully grown women, but he tries to hide it.
I shimmy out of his arms. “Babe… your wrist is hurt. Stop picking me up.”
“I’m fine,” he says, but he’s holding his wrist now and his brows are pulled together, creasing his forehead. “Seriously. I’m fine. What kin
d of guy can’t pick up his own girlfriend?”
I roll my eyes. “A guy who just got his cast off. You big dork.”
I point to the couch. “Go sit down.”
He groans in protest and steps toward me until my back is against the wall. His good hand grabs my hip as he crushes his body against mine, his other elbow resting on the wall near my head.
“I don’t want to go to the couch,” he says, his voice a near growl in my ear. Heat rises up through my belly as he kisses my neck so softly that I barely feel it. “I want to go to the bed,” he whispers, his lips grazing my skin.
My breath catches. He kisses my neck, sending a trail of heat across my skin until he reaches my mouth. Our lips move urgently, passionately, our tongues finding each other.
Then I slowly pull away. The physical therapist in me is still worried about his wrist. “We have all night,” I say, giving him a look that I hope he understands as sincere. “Right now we need to take care of your wrist.”
He pouts out his bottom lip and I lean up on my toes and kiss it. “Go sit on the couch,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
He does as he’s told, and I grab the jar of emu oil from my medicine cabinet. This stuff works wonders on pain.
He’s sitting on my couch with his legs stretched out across it. I nudge his leg with my knee. “Move over.”
He gives me a devilish grin and opens his legs, patting to the space between them. I roll my eyes and settle myself on the couch, my back against his chest. This looks a lot like cuddling instead of therapy, but when he leans forward, brushing my hair over one shoulder, and kisses my neck, I suddenly have no objections.
“Give me your hand,” I say, my voice weak.
I take his wrist and rub the emu oil on it. Then I work my thumbs gently around it, massaging the tendons from his palm to his forearm.
His kisses stop momentarily and he sighs. “That feels amazing,” he says.
I glance back and grin. “Good.”
He kisses my cheek. I turn my attention back to his hand. His good hand holds onto my thigh, and it slowly creeps up higher to places that make my whole body tingle. I concentrate on his injury though, massaging it the way I’ve been taught in school.