Downshift Series, #1

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  He barely had to exhale to close the half-inch distance to her lips. The soft touch of their mouths on one another was both electrifying and reassuring. After a drawn-out moment of bliss, Kelsey pulled back and avoided his gaze. She turned the key in the ignition and shifted into gear. Their kiss made everything more complicated.

  JT should've felt uncomfortable, or even a little bit guilty. Feeling bad was hard when everything inside him was yelling, screaming, and throwing a party that he had just done something he was meant to do. Sure, he'd complicated things, but he believed that sometimes complicated was the right way to go.

  “Would you just give me more medication, if I said I was sore?”

  He didn't want any more drugs. The medications were wearing on him and the side effects were more of a headache than the pain was. Plus, he had to distract her from the earth-shattering moment they’d had, or he’d had, at least. Was she as affected as he was? Even one percent of the same impact on her would be good enough for him.

  “No, I would probably have to give you massage. It's too late to call a massage therapist. We need to avoid atrophy in that leg you’re favoring. Let's give it a day or two and see how you're feeling.” She swallowed and turned her head to watch out the back window as she pulled out of the parking spot.

  As much as a massage would be amazing from her, he didn't know how far he would be able to let her go. Kissing her had been heady. If she touched his bare skin, he would definitely be pushed past the levels of propriety. He didn't want her to feel used, or even taken advantage of.

  JT settled carefully into his seat. He’d bide his time. Kissing her had cemented her feelings. His interest was growing into so much more and he didn’t want to scare her off, but time was short. He had to act soon or risk any time with her.

  She was smart. How much of her life had already been planned for when the therapy would be done? She probably had another place set up and another job in line. A slight panic clenched his chest. He had too many deadlines. However, only one was becoming priority.

  A COUPLE DAYS LATER, Kelsey asked if she could have the morning off so she could go and do a few things for school. She needed time off and JT thought it sounded like a great idea. JT hadn't been left alone in the garage since he'd fallen down the stairs. Actually, Kelsey hadn’t wanted him to be tempted, so she’d said the garage was off limits.

  He needed to be around his bike. He needed to be around everything that made him feel whole. In his shop, everything was perfect. There, he felt like a man. The last forty-eight hours had pushed a lot of the aching to the side. Sure, his muscles were a little sore, but his ankle, wrist, and ribs felt a lot better. Did they feel good enough to wander out to the garage? He wasn’t being sneaky. He was an adult. He could be careful. He was only going out there to check on things. That was all.

  He nodded as he made his way out to the garage. Without the crutches. A bottle of oil and a boxed filter sat on the workbench. JT wanted to smack a palm to his forehead. He still needed to change the oil in his 450.

  Walking by his bike filled his chest with longing, similar to the surge of emotion he felt around Kelsey. The red plastic reflected the light shining in through the windows. A smudge of dirt stuck to the white sticker on the gas tank. He ran his hand down the lines, marveling at the workmanship of his favorite ride.

  Dirt bike riding had become such a part of himself, starting when he was very young. He’d used it to escape the constant fighting between his parents. He’d focused on the wind as it whipped through the threads of his clothes and the thunderous power he controlled with the slight twist of his throttle. Taking care of his bike was his priority, one he enjoyed immensely.

  With the oil changed and the gas topped off, JT stared at his bike. He glanced toward the windows in the garage doors. Kelsey wasn’t back yet. Would it hurt to start the bike up? Just to see that it’s running good still? The manual starter wasn’t on the side of his bad foot. He could kick start it over. If he let it run, he could just listen to it. Nothing was wrong with that.

  He carefully limped to the large doors and pushed the button to open the folding panels. Letting the fresh air in was imperative to running an engine inside. He didn’t want to die, for crying out loud. He turned the engine over, the long, loud growl of the four-stroke calming, reassuring, and tempting him. Like a weighted vest had been pulled of his shoulders, he could breathe again. His insides seemed to settle into place and suddenly there was no such thing as healing bruises or tender bones and joints. He was whole as he touched the bike and it vibrated beneath his hands.

  What if he just got on the bike? He could just sit on it. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t have to ride it or anything. He could just sit. Right, just sit. He could do that.

  But, he couldn’t sit on it while it rested on its stand. Plus, if he sat on it where it was at, he might fall over because of the tight quarters. He conveniently ignored the large work area in the five car garage. Pushing the large bike from the stand and toward the door, he paid attention to any strain he might be applying to his ankle or his ribs. His wrist was fairly steady. Nothing bothered him. He was doing pretty great. He couldn’t help a smile from curling his lips.

  He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’d be fine. Most importantly, he had to keep telling himself that. JT chose a spot just outside the garage opening and slid his leg over the vinyl seat. He settled onto the padded curve as if he’d never left. He closed his eyes.

  Kissing Kelsey had felt like riding his bike. Like a part of him had been completed. What had he done by kissing her, though? They hadn’t talked about the kiss or what it meant. JT hoped the lack of discussion meant it was tabled until their circumstances were different and not that it wasn’t possible.

  Eyeing the quiet road past the long end of his driveway, JT didn’t see anything that would be dangerous. What if... Okay, he didn't have to ride very far. Maybe he could just ride down to the end of the road and back, or even take one of the really easy trails down at the end of the road along the railroad tracks. As long as he kept calm and didn't go above first or second gear, he should be fine. No, he would be fine.

  JT was a professional. He knew his limits. He rarely wrecked. He could do this. Kelsey never had to know. When he returned successfully, just imagine what he could tell her. How far along his therapy track would this put him?

  Carefully, he shifted into gear with his sprained ankle, but shifting wasn’t hard on his injury. He thrummed the throttle. It was like his soul was welcomed home. He gunned down softly to the end of the drive and took a right. Kelsey had gone left toward town.

  Shifting into second, he inhaled the scent of fresh cut grass as the wind began to move around him. If he went down the straight road a little ways, he could turn around. Nothing would happen. He could stop and turn around at the end of the road. He popped his bike into third gear.

  As he neared the end of the road, a car pulled out of a heavily treed driveway and turned in front of him. Gasping, JT moved to plant his foot to turn around. The one he instinctively planted was his bad ankle. Instead of being stable enough to turn hard, the joint rolled and JT was unable to grab enough traction to stabilize him or the bike.

  Grinding and scratching of plastic and metal parts on the rocky gravel and dirt road made him wince, but not for long as the wincing turned to curse as the road tore into his flesh. Burning road rash scraped along his arms and lower legs. Thankfully, he’d remembered to wear a shirt. His shorts hadn’t been a smart choice. Hell, nothing about that had been a smart choice.

  He groaned, shaking on the road. Why did he talk himself into going? Why did he sabotage the good things? He couldn’t stand to right his bike. He looked to the side of the road before crawling over onto the soft grass.

  Would anyone find him, or would he be stuck there with blood slowly dripping from his wounds? After about thirty minutes with JT pressing on his wounds to stop the seeping of warm liquid, the sound of a car putting past made him raise his han
d in a plea for help. The light turquoise Volkswagen lurched to a stop only a few feet from him. Small puffs of exhaust moved the dust feet behind the pipe.

  JT moaned and laid back on the grass, staring at the sky in disbelief. Of course, it would be her. Of course, she would find him. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t. Not logically. If he had, there’s no way he ever would have gone in the garage. He was an addict and he had just acted like the worst kind.

  One who wouldn’t accept that he was addicted.

  Chapter 12

  Kelsey

  Kelsey sobbed as she approached JT's fallen form. She had seen his red bike from down the road, its toppled form called to her like a siren on a fire truck. Her hands shook as she crouched over him. Blood mixed with dirt on his knees and lower legs. His hands were bloodied and dirty. Why was there so much dirt and blood? She couldn’t see past it. She’d heard of this happening to other first responders - the inability to focus on care due to worry when a loved one needed attention.

  “Josiah? Are you okay? Oh, my gosh. I need to call an ambulance.”

  Guilt overwhelmed her. She ran back to the car and reached in for napkins, tissues, or anything useful only to come up with some moist towelettes.

  “Kelsey.” JT’s grunt carried on the soft air. “Pick up the bike?”

  She spun, staring at him and his bike in disbelief. “The bike? You’re worried about the bike?”

  There was the trait she’d searched for. The one that her ex had that made him choose money for his toys over her. He even stole from her. She didn’t face reality until he’d taken every cent from her grandmother’s savings account.

  “If someone drives down here, they might get in an accident.” His breath came in spurts, but he spoke clear enough. He held a hand to his side and glanced up and down the road. He wasn’t worried about the bike. He was worried about other people.

  Everything she’d assumed about him rushed out the door, replaced by guilt once again. She must have pushed him too hard. He thought he was strong enough to attempt riding. She approached the bike with her bottom lip between her teeth. The bulk of it was large and she struggled to lift it with the handles from the ground. Squatting to put her legs into it, she finally righted the bike that didn’t look too worse for wear. The side of the road would have to be good enough.

  “Do you want me to lean it against a tree or something?” she asked.

  The closest thing that was big enough was a sign post. She wouldn’t be able to push the machine over the ditch or the bumps to get to the big tree.

  “That’s fine. Thank you.” He didn’t try to stand alone. Instead, he waited for her, as if he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything without her.

  Resting the handle on the metal post of the stop sign, Kelsey turned slowly. How would she ever apologize for her part? She needed to get JT off the ground first and get him home. Once there, she could wallow in her blame. Until then, she had a job to do.

  She crouched beside him. “Are you hurt? Can you move?” His grimace spoke volumes, but she didn’t know if it was in reference to his pain or ability to move. Either way, it wasn’t looking good. “I can call an ambulance, if you want one.”

  He softly shook his head and finally trained his pain-filled gaze on her. “No. I just want to go home. Can you help me up? Please.” JT ended on a whisper.

  Kelsey didn’t mention the flush to his cheeks. He was embarrassed enough. She didn’t need to bring anything up because she wanted to avoid her part in it for as long as she could. Getting JT to the car wasn’t as hard as she expected. Shame worked as a good adrenaline boost, and he limped to the passenger side with Kelsey to lean on.

  He didn’t speak as they drove the short distance to his home. “I’ll text Blake to grab my bike.” His voice was low, barely breaking the tense silence. He didn’t outright admit that he’d gone against Kelsey’s directions, but... he didn’t need to.

  Kelsey didn’t feel like acknowledging him, at the moment. She wasn’t mad at him. She’d convinced him that he was stronger than he was and that his injuries weren’t as bad as they really were. The Superman Syndrome could be adjusted to fit any circumstance, apparently.

  She quietly parked the car and rushed inside to retrieve his crutches. It was impossible for her to carry him and they didn’t have a wheelchair. Handing the aids over, she smiled softly and stood by while he maneuvered himself to a standing position. After he crutched himself toward the house, Kelsey watched him go, closing the door after a moment.

  Dried blood caked the back of his calf and Kelsey didn’t envy him the wound cleaning she was about to perform. She followed him inside and gathered her first aid items from downstairs. Her bright orange first responder bag easily spanned two-and-a-half feet in width with a depth of eighteen inches. She had more supplies than most mobile clinics inside.

  Her grandmother snoozed softly on the recliner while her nurse worked on a word search, smiling when Kelsey waved before heading upstairs again. Once by his side, Kelsey passed JT to get into the living room. He just stood in the hallway, obviously fatigued and unsure what to do. Afternoon light created stark contrast between his pale skin and the blood and abrasions.

  Guilt panged her once again. How would he ever know she cared when she wasn’t careful with him?

  “Can you get up here? It would make it easier...” Kelsey patted the couch in the living room. She didn’t want to pressure him any further, but she did need to get the wounds properly cleaned. She spread out some towels on the ground at the bottom of the couch and more along the leather of the cushions to protect the material and carpet.

  JT grunted as he forced himself to move into the house and then lower his body to the soft cushions. He leaned back, closing his eyes and sighing.

  She failed him. He most likely wouldn’t make the deadline and he’d lose everything. His sponsors, his future in freestyle, racing in the Des Nations... all of it.

  Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back as best she could, but they proved too strong. She gave in, letting the hot moisture drag down her cheeks. She sniffed, wishing he would say something, but glad when he didn’t. What would he say? Even she couldn’t find the words to speak because she didn’t know what to say.

  Chapter 13

  JT

  Kelsey's tears tore at JT more than the cleaning solution Kelsey ran over his damaged flesh. Her efforts to cover up her sadness failed as little hiccups escaped. Her soft pain hurt him more than if she wailed and cried on the ground.

  She was so strong. How long had she been carrying her responsibilities on her own? There he was, adding to her load. She took care of her grandmother and she worked on progressing her career. Why didn’t he think before he acted? He couldn’t expect all of his plans to work out.

  After she bandaged up his wounds, she excused herself to the bathroom. Her absence stung as if she sucked the very air from the room when she left. Unwilling to face any more pain in the moment, JT rolled over on the couch, careful not to jar his aching shoulder and his re-injured wrist. Thankfully, nothing felt broken, but his recovery had definitely lost some ground.

  Why hadn't he thought the ride out? Why hadn't he thought about what the possible consequences were for any of that? He knew he was going to get attached to Kelsey because of the sharp attraction and instant like he’d felt for her in the hospital. JT wasn’t fooling anyone by pretending he could keep things professional by hiring her and having her move in with him. All of it had been to satisfy something inside of him without care for what he was doing or what damage he might cause.

  But why? Why would he do that? JT even applied his carelessness to small decisions, like something as simple as riding his bike that morning. He’d known better. He'd gotten cocky. He had been so sure of himself, when, under normal circumstances, he could just do any ride with his eyes closed. Those three weeks, however, weren’t supposed to be treated like a good day.

  Caution. That was the motto he’d decided on. H
e’d be careful. He’d agreed to do the therapy and everything Kelsey told him as part of her terms. He was supposed to spend his time getting better, healing, so their goals of success could soar. Injuring himself again hadn’t been a part of the plan.

  After a moment, the bathroom door opened and Kelsey came back into the living room. She packed up her treatment bag and zipped it shut. The zipping sound split through the sudden silence. She held her bag in one hand and put it down by her side, then faced him squarely. Her hair was pulled to the side and the serious set to her jaw enhanced the soft curve of her lower lip which trembled before she spoke.

  “I let you down. I wasn't forceful enough when I told you that we had to be careful. I'm pushing you at one end, expecting a lot, and then on the other I assume you know to rein it in.”

  Licking her lips, she lifted her chin. “I wasn't clear enough when I said, only do the things that I help you with. I didn't take you to the fair because I thought you could do it by yourself. I took you because I was there with you and monitoring your coping capabilities as well as how long you took to grow tired and just how much you could take without impact. When we went to the mall, that was to increase how much room we worked in. The workout room here isn’t big enough for more than a twenty-step stroll.”

  Kelsey hiccupped, her face red and blotchy, but her eyes stood out with startling green clarity. “I must have pushed you too hard, too fast and gave you false confidence that you’d be able to do it alone. I assess your limits. You don’t know them yet.” She lifted her hand and let it fall back to her side. “Now, because of me, you won’t get back in time. Do you realize this probably set you back? We lost the entire last week of healing, if not the week of down time you had in the hospital.”

  Disappointment had her shaking her head. “Do you remember those first few days? You could barely stand. Certainly, you couldn't do it unassisted. Now here you are trying to ride a dirt bike? You have to use crutches most of the time just to get to the sink. What were you thinking?” She held up her hand. “Don't answer that. Because I know you thought that you could do it. I’d convinced you anything was possible because I pushed you too hard. With that, I let you down.”