Read Motocross Me Online

Authors: Cheyanne Young

Tags: #Romance, #young adult

Motocross Me (20 page)

BOOK: Motocross Me
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I sneak a sideways glace in Ryan’s direction and catch him sideways glancing at me. Now I have the opportunity to make him jealous. I let my stick fall to the ground and lean forward, getting closer to Seth.

“Yeah, it’s hard work for sure.” I glance at Ryan again and he is back in his conversation as if our mutual side-glance had never happened. My chest aches as I struggle to squeeze more flirt out of my flirtless personality. “How did you know I worked at Mixon?”

Seth’s sheepish grin reveals a sweeter side to him than any side Ryan has ever shown me. Maybe they aren’t clones after all. “Well, I race motocross,” he says. Still, I don’t recognize him and I am sure I know every local racer by name and bike number.

“I don’t remember seeing you around,” I say as flirty as possible. I plaster a crooked smile on my face and twirl a strand of hair around my finger, hoping Ryan sees all of this. Seth lifts the leg of his shorts, revealing a fresh scar that covers his knee from top to bottom. “Just had knee surgery, so I’ve been out of commission a while.”

Before I can respond, he leans forward and speaks in a more serious tone, as if interrogating me.

“So I bet you know all about the new track changes.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Ryan’s shaggy hair shuffle as his head turns toward us.

“Yes I do,” I answer with a coy smile.

“Well, what is it?”

“How dare you!” I gasp, playfully slapping his arm as if insulted. “You know it’s a secret.”

He buries his head in his hands and laughs, admitting defeat. “I know, I know,” he says. “Just thought I’d try.”

“Hey Seth, how’s the knee?” Ryan joins our conversation and a surge of power jolts through my veins. My flirting and leg touching worked and now Ryan is here to save me from the guy who tries to steal my affection.

“Just a few more weeks of rehab before I can race again,” Seth answers. Ryan nods and reaches for my hand.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to borrow Hana for a minute.” Like a zombie with no brain, I take his hand and allowed him to pull me up from the log. We say goodbye to Seth. With our fingers still interlocked, Ryan leans down to whisper into my ear.

“Let’s take a walk.”

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

The last sunlight of the day hides behind oak branches of the trees surrounding the lake. We walk toward the thinnest part of the woods and soon the sandy shore fades into dirt. Broken sticks crunch under our feet. This is the only part of the woods that is clear enough to see through to the road on the other side. There are no streetlights, electric poles or glows from neighboring towns. That endless county road is the only indication that we aren’t lost in miles of wilderness.

Ryan’s arm rests around my shoulders as we walk. His hand hangs limply at the top of my collarbone and it smells like the charcoal from his friend’s grill. My stomach rumbles.

Normally the scent of food or anything resembling food would have my mouth watering. Tonight, the flame-grilled smell makes my stomach ache in a different way. Ash flashes into my mind, holding the spatula from Shawn’s party and standing by the grill with a crooked smile on his face. Why am I thinking of him now? In the woods, walking next to Ryan, where I am very sure he will try to kiss me again, and Ash has to jump into my brain, ruining the mood. What a jerk.

Ash doesn’t kiss me or take me on romantic walks through the woods. Ash breaks away when I allow our hugs to linger a moment past the friendship-only threshold. Ash had a dozen golden opportunities to sweep me off my feet and make me his girlfriend, but he chose to stay on the sidelines and watch each opportunity disappear. I have no reason to believe that Ash will ever come through for me. That is why I am with Ryan tonight.

So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Ryan climbs up a large piece of limestone as wide as the hood of a car. He is now a foot taller as he turns around to face me.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Sure,” I reply out of habit and even in the darkness I can see his face fall into a frown. Maybe if I had lingered a bit longer before answering he wouldn’t have called my bluff.

“It’s because you don’t know anyone,” he says.

“I guess you’re right,” I say, taking a step closer to the rock as the darkness surrounds us.

Ryan grabs the top of my head and shakes it around as if I am a bobble head toy.

“Seth and Kevin looked like they enjoyed your company.”

“Are you jealous?” I ask in a sing-song voice as I poke him in the stomach.

“No.”

“What?” I balk, jerking my hand away from his body and shaking it as if it were contaminated with nasty Ryan germs. “Why the hell not?” He grabs my hand and pulls me onto the rock with him. We are now standing face to face on the rough limestone. Although dark shadows hide his eyes, I know they are boring into mine.

“Let me tell you something, Hana,” he begins. I am thankful for the break in eye contact as he lowers himself into a sitting position on the rock and motions for me to follow.

“My dad has this saying, and he’s told it to me my whole life.” He stares at the treetops as he continues, “And it wasn’t until I got older that I realized just how true Dad’s saying was.”

He looks back at me, smiling as if he knows a secret more important than the meaning of life.

“Well?” I nearly shout. Anticipation seeps out my pores.

“As my dear old dad says,” he clears his throat and then speaks in a deep voice, mocking his father, “Son, she’s going home with the winner. She don’t care who he is, but she’ll be going home with him.” He swallows. “Even if she arrived with someone else.”

A moment of silence passes. Ryan sits next to me with a satisfied look on his face, probably still recalling the so-called wise words from his father. I don’t know what to make of it and am growing frustrated with how everything in this town, including supposed words of wisdom, has to do with motocross.

“I don’t understand,” I say finally. Ryan nudges me with his arm and then rests his chin on my shoulder. I stare straight ahead, afraid of how close we’ll be if I look at him.

“It means the girl will always choose the winner – not some guy like Seth or Kevin – but me.” I give an apathetic shrug and his head bobs, still on my shoulder. He continues, “I am not the least bit jealous of any guy who talks to you, because I know I will win. Not just the trophy, but the girl as well.”

I breathe a long, sarcastic sigh. “You are so full of yourself.”

With his chin still on my shoulder, he leans in and let his lips rest on my ear. My toes go numb and my breathing becomes involuntary as I struggle to remember how to sit still. He chuckles and warm breath floats over my earlobe. And then he whispers, letting the movement of his lips graze across my skin, “You can come home with me when I win tomorrow.”

A tingle shoots down my spine. Ryan is definitely capable of winning the race tomorrow, but so is Ash. And since I am destined to go home with the winner…

“How do you know you will win?” I ask.

“I was hoping you could help me with that.” Ryan turns to face me and wraps his hands around mine. Maybe it’s all the pheromones in the air, but I don’t have a clue as to how I can help him win a race, short of sabotaging Ash’s bike. Of course, knowing Ryan, that may not be out of the question.

“Jim hasn’t let anyone see the track since he changed it up for Nationals,” he says.

The pheromones evaporate from the air and my brain returns to functioning at top speed. Even with the butterflies in my stomach and the tingling in my toes, I knew tonight with Ryan was too good to be true. He doesn’t want quality time with me – he wants quality time with the secret track information. I decide to lie.

“He showed me but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Ryan’s thumbs rubs circles in the palm of my hand.

“You know I can’t tell you.” A full minute passes and the smirk on Ryan’s face never leaves. He is staring me into submission. I don’t want to let him win this round.

“That would be cheating,” I add, picking at a loose string on my shorts.

“I don’t have to cheat to win…you know this.” The smirk remains. I shake my head in defiance and without a warning, he leans over and kisses my forehead. “It’s okay babe, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

A roaring fire awaits us as we step through the woods and back on the sand bar. Ryan promised not to mention the secret track changes again but I am sure I haven’t heard the last of it.

There are more people on the sandbar than before we had left. Our fallen tree bench has been taken over by five girls who have to squeeze against each other to fit. Ryan’s truck is blocked on all sides by other vehicles. I check my cell phone for the time and wonder if I will get home before midnight.

Ryan isn’t the only racer here; there are at least a dozen other guys who were preregistered for the races tomorrow hanging out at the lake. Did they not care to get a good night’s rest before race day –
National
race day?

I think about Ash’s preparations for race days and can’t understand why these guys don’t do the same. Ash works out all day before a race, eats healthy meals and goes to bed as soon as the sun sets to ensure he’ll be well-rested and ready to race. Ash took his fitness regime seriously until Shawn’s accident when Ash started eating fast food and working out less. I hope he will be ready for the race tomorrow, but his chances are slim.

Ryan leans his back against the grill of his friend’s truck that’s parked facing the campfire. He takes my hand and pulls me in front of him in a movement so quick I don’t know where he is leading me until I find my back pressed against his chest. I don’t object. He wraps his arms around me and from here we have a perfect view of the fire.

As my head rests against Ryan’s massive bicep, I watch the fire dance against the night sky and think about what I’m doing here with him. Just two days ago, I hated Ryan and resented my father for allowing me to come here with him, and now I am standing under a starlit sky wrapped up in his arms. If tonight is the start of a relationship with Ryan, then I should really decide if he is really what I want.

I’m not sure I’m ready to give up on Ash, though he has given me little choice. I had taken the plunge, set aside my nervousness and asked him if we could start dating, and he said it wasn’t the right time. If I have learned anything from watching chick flicks, it’s the golden rule of dating: If he doesn’t seem into you, then he’s not into you.

 Maybe it will never be the right time with Ash. Maybe that is his way of letting me down without telling me the truth. And as I struggle to digest this realization, I can’t seem to put out the tiny spark that burns deep in my chest – a tiny string of hope that maybe I am wrong and Ash does like me and the time will come. I take a deep breath and roll my eyes up to the sky. Why does life have so many maybes?

 Ryan notices my heavy sigh and squeezes his arms tight for a moment in a backwards hug. Once again his lips hover next to my ear.

“Is it a huge section of whoops?”

I open my mouth to ask what he’s talking about when I remember “whoops” is a motocross word. Whoops are Ash’s favorite part on the track, but definitely not Ryan’s. Dad had asked Ash what his favorite part was, and yet he hadn’t put them on his new track. I started to question my dad’s love for Ash.

Ryan must have taken my silence as a no, because he tries again, “A big ass jump?”

“No,” I answer this time, staring at the lake. His guess was close, but still not correct. I shift on my feet. His arms start to feel more like heavy shackles instead of the warm security they were a few moments ago.


Two
big ass jumps?” he asks. I suck in a deep breath and hold it. Just like racing, Ryan isn’t going to give up until he wins.

“I can’t tell you,” I manage to say over the pressing weight of his intimidation. He releases me and I turn to face him. He raises his arms behind him and cradles his head as if he were lying in a hammock. This is a remarkably sexy view of him.

“That’s fine,” he snorts. “I can do jumps.” His confidence borders on arrogance and although arrogance is a bad trait to have, I find myself even more attracted to him.

A breeze blows through the woods and makes my hair dance across my face. Had it not been a hundred degrees today, the breeze might be cool enough to startle me away from Ryan’s hypnotic charm. And had I been lucky enough to be startled away from his charm, then maybe I wouldn’t have made the mistake I already know I am about to regret.

“But what if it’s better not to jump?” I ask, challenging him. His eyes drift up and then down under furrowed eyebrows. He isn’t looking at me, but concentrating somewhere in the back of his mind. He doesn’t understand what I said. I have the upper hand now.

“What idiot wouldn’t clear a jump?”  He watches the moonlight ripple over the lake and his hand swoops through the air mimicking a dirt bike. “Unless…” His eyes go blank again. A millisecond later, his eyebrows flinch. I can almost see the light bulb flicker on above his head. His thumbs tap on my shoulders. “Wait, is there a way to avoid the jump?”

Bingo
.

Had I just given Ryan the secret my dad worked so hard to protect? A blanket of fear creeps over me as I try to backtrack, “I don’t know.”

Playing dumb doesn’t work. Ryan’s smug look of self-satisfaction is now perfect. He could patent the look on his face at this moment, filing it under A ,for Arrogance in the Great Hall of Perfected Facial Expressions.

“Ah ha…” He takes a slow breath and closes his eyes to enjoy it. “Good one, Jim.”

Ryan’s interest in me nose-dives into a black hole abyss moments after he gets the secret out of me. Now I’ve spent fifteen minutes watching Ryan’s spirits reach Mt. Everest-like heights as he shares stories with his friends around the fire. All eyes are on Ryan. I have nowhere to sit that wouldn’t leave my butt damp and covered in sand. I want to go home.

It’s ten o’clock. I don’t want to call my dad. Shelby never replied to my text and was probably asleep by now anyway. Ryan starts to entertain the crowd with the story of how he cleared Dad’s ninety-foot double when he was only eight years old. I take that as an opportunity to slip out of here unnoticed.

BOOK: Motocross Me
11.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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