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Authors: Lyla Bardan

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BOOK: A Sprint To His Heart
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“No kidding. I feel really bad for Kelsi, because if my parents move, she can’t afford to stay enrolled at the arts university downtown. She’ll have to transfer to another university.”

Nick’s forehead creased. “Where will you go?”

“Yeah, well . . .” I blew out a breath. “My coach wants me to join the Lady Spinners, a training team in Colorado. I’d hoped to be selected for the national development team or a pro team, but Coach says I don’t have the wins.”

“Hey, I think you raced great this summer, wins or not.” Averting his gaze, Nick tapped a wrench on the workbench. “So when do you leave?”

“If I say yes to the Lady Spinners, I have to be in Colorado next month.”

A muscle in my cheek cramped from grinding my teeth. I’d been holding everything in for too long. The pressure of racing, Jose and his dark Fae doping, Piran lying to me about being a prince, his parents not liking me, the effect of my dad’s job transfer. Damn it. This was supposed to be the summer my racing career took off, not the summer I crashed and burned.

Tears silently fell down my cheeks.

“Hey,” Nick said softly.

He rubbed my arm, then my shoulder, his touch rapidly escalating from friendly to something more. When his lips slid over mine, my heart did a three-sixty. I stood there numbly. I didn’t return his kiss, but I didn’t step back or push him away either.

Nick drew back to where I could see his face. “I care about you,” he whispered.

All I did was nod. Where was the righteous indignation? The ‘I have a boyfriend’ speech? I looked into Nick’s hazel eyes, so earnest and damn near begging. As friends, we’d hung out for three years. He was the quintessential boy next door. Mother-approved. His parents periodically came by the bike shop. They seemed nice, ordinary. Human.

Nick had one year of grad school left for his master’s degree in Sports Physiology. He wanted to own an outdoor adventure gym with skiing, cycling, and rock climbing.

Why couldn’t I fall for a guy like him?

Leaning into me, he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck. “I love Colorado. I’ll spend my entire winter break there if you want. Teach you to ski. You’d love the rush of downhill skiing.”

His mouth found mine again.

My mind reeled. I didn’t know what to think. Go with the flow and see where it landed? Damn. Now I was butchering sayings just like Piran.

Oh Piran.

Trembling, I pushed Nick back, struggling to find air to fill my lungs.

“Bailey?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice raspy. “While I’m not sure my relationship with Piran can go the distance—his lie really hurt me—I’m not ready to give up on him. I’m just not.”

Biting my lip, I took another step back, creating more distance. My gaze fell to my torn shoes. “My break time is over. I need to get back to the sales floor.”

“Call me if you need me,” Nick said quietly.

The sadness in his voice filled me with guilt. Had I led him on? My stomach churning, I withdrew even further from temptation before I changed my mind and chose a path that would drive a wedge between Piran and me for good.

I grappled with the realization I might have lost a friend in the process. I closed the door to the back room. Would things be awkward between Nick and me forever?

Chapter 15

I finished my shift at the bike shop and left without saying good-bye to Nick, although I didn’t want to say good-bye to our friendship. After a few days, I’d see where we stood. Maybe we could simply pretend the kiss never happened. Either kiss.

How would I explain to Piran what happened? Particularly considering he didn’t trust Nick. Then again, Nick didn’t trust Piran. I groaned. Right now, I had to put
both
guys out of my mind and focus on my decision about whether to join the Lady Spinners in Colorado.

I sped home and parked in the driveway behind Kelsi’s car. Once inside, I took the stairs two at a time up to my room. On my desk lay the slip of paper with the name and phone number of the Lady Spinner’s director. The moment of truth. Sweating, I nervously toyed with my shirt, teetering on the edge of tossing the paper aside. Before I changed my mind, I whipped out my phone and punched in the number.

“This is Bailey Meyers. I’d like to speak with Katherine Wilcox.”

“Hi, Bailey,” the director said in a bright voice. She sounded young. “Call me Kate. So are you ready to come out here?”

I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m a little concerned about the costs?”

Kate laughed. “Understandable. Your coach said you lived at home. Here’s how it works. The younger Lady Spinners typically stay in the Liverpool house. Five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Everybody but the RA doubles up, so you’ll have a roommate. The house is shared with four guys from the Wheelmen team. You don’t have a problem living with guys, do you?”

I blinked. “Uh, I guess not . . .”

“Good. The five girls share two bathrooms. The four guys get one.” Kate laughed. She had an easy laugh. “Your rent is only three hundred a month and that includes heat, water, electricity, cable television, and Wi-Fi access.”

“Um, that seems doable, I guess.”

“We think so. You get space in one of the two fridges. The kitchen is huge and has plenty of cabinet space. Tuesday and Friday nights are stir-fry nights where everybody chips in. The Liverpool house is on a bus line so you don’t even need a car. And we have team vans to take riders and their gear to races.”

“Wow.” I scribbled the details on a pad of paper on my desk.

“And last, but not least,” Kate said, “there are plenty of restaurants and stores downtown that are always looking to hire. None of our riders have ever had a problem with finding a job.” She paused. “Can I count on you, Bailey?”

I rocked back on my heels, staring at my notes. It all sounded perfect. So why did my legs feel as weak as if I’d just raced thirty miles uphill?

During my entire senior year of college, I’d planned this summer, never feeling a twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving home. But now, faced with the very real and very scary prospect, I wanted to hole up in a corner and stare glassy-eyed at the wall. How would I survive without all the important people in my life? Mom, Dad, Kelsi, Nick, Shannon.

Piran.

Damn it. A lump formed in my throat. How often would we get to see each other? I didn’t want to be away from my beautiful Fae prince for weeks or months at a time.

“I need a decision today, Bailey,” Kate said, interrupting my thoughts.

“I . . . I know.” I brought a shaky hand to my forehead.

“We can get you to the next level, I promise,” she added. “I saw you race in Chicago and you have a lot of talent. But there are areas where you can definitely improve. Drafting, cornering, and achieving a tighter finishing sprint.”

“Oh.” My chest tightened. Nothing like laying it on the line.

“But your coach says you’re a strong climber and that’s an exceptional trait to have when racing in Europe.”

“Racing in Europe?” I’m pretty sure I sounded like I’d just sucked in helium.

Kate laughed. “One step at a time. But several of our riders have been picked for the national development team and are now racing in Europe.”

Light-headed, I nodded. This was my chance. The path to a professional career. “Yes,” I said, my voice stronger. My chin lifted. “Yes, I’m coming out there.”

“Great. I’ll email you the details and you can book your flight. Talk to you soon, Bailey.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.” I tapped the End button, and stared at my phone.

Holy hyper-apocalypse. I was leaving home.

After a ten-hour shift at the bike shop on Saturday, I came home with sore feet, but grateful for the extra money. I wolfed down a quick dinner, then rode on my trainer before chilling with Kelsi. We rented a couple of really bad sci-fi movies, Kelsi made homemade caramel popcorn, and we had a blast mocking the bad acting and even worse special effects.

Sunday morning, Dad made his famous lumberjack pancakes piled high with butter and syrup. Later, all four of us went for a long walk through the botanical gardens, and everyone seemed in such a good mood. Why couldn’t it always be this way? Maybe the realization about moving clear across the country was the push I needed to realize what my family meant to me.

Was it possible to feel homesick before I’d even left?

That evening, Dad and I watched motocross racing on television. During an epic moment in the final race, he pumped his fist at the screen. “Holy shit, did you see what that rider did?”

Mom passed through the living room. “Todd, no swearing.”

He grumbled a response, and I laughed. Like he’d not swear while watching sports. A rider suddenly spun out and rolled off his bike. Both Dad and I jumped up, screaming at the rider to get back on his motorcycle.

“Hey, is that your phone?” Dad asked, returning to his easy chair.

I glanced over to see my blinking phone and suppressed a sigh. I hadn’t told Piran I’d joined the Colorado team. And I hadn’t told him about what happened with Nick.

Dad made a sound in his throat. “Just text him that you’re busy hanging with your Dad.”

I cocked an eyebrow. Since when did my father become sentient? I picked up my phone. Piran’s text both tugged at my heart and made me smile.

“I want you like a bumblebee wants nectar.”

I texted him back.
“Aww . . . cute. I’m watching TV with my dad. He says he hasn’t seen much of me in the past few weeks. I guess because of a certain someone. LOL. Call you later?”

“I will be waiting with alluring breath.”

I laughed out loud, and my dad buzzed his lips with impatience. “Just hold on, Dad.”

“Glad your breath is alluring and not gross, but the saying is waiting with bated breath. Bated, not baited. No lures, alluring or otherwise.”

“My sweet, wise Bailey. I love you. Now and for always.”

A fluttering rose from my stomach into my throat, and warmth flushed my cheeks. I angled my face away from my dad.

“Love you too. Got to go.”

“You’re out!” Dad whooped. He’d changed the channel to the Cubs baseball game.

Setting down my phone, I smiled at my father. “Score?”

“Cubbies are up three.” He patted the couch seat next to him. “Sit.”

I did, and he gave me an awkward sideways hug. “Gonna miss you, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, watching his throat bob. God, my dad was getting as choked up as when I first left for college. I leaned against him, and we watched the final three innings, both grumbling when the Cubs lost. Well, I grumbled. Dad decided to drown his sorrows in a beer.

The game over, I headed upstairs to my bedroom and lay in bed talking on the phone with Piran for over an hour, until my cell phone heated up so much it burned my fingers.

He talked about his home realm with its abundant forests, clear blue lake, and fields of flowers stretching over rolling hills. The enormity of the castle he grew up in, where he still hadn’t explored every room. His friendship with Tolmin, and how they’d spent their childhood wandering the Fae countryside, learning to bend light from the sprites, split an apple with an arrow from the elves, and turn milk into vinegar from the brownies.

It all sounded so magical and wonderful.

Over the phone, Piran couldn’t read my mind, and he had to ask for my thoughts and feelings. Like a normal two-way conversation. Felt odd in a way.

But there was an advantage to the phone barrier. I still needed a little more time to figure out the best way to tell him I was leaving.

Monday morning, Kelsi drove me to the hospital and I endured another CT scan of my head. Good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic. Waiting for the results, I tried to talk to Kelsi about my upcoming move to Colorado, but she kept ignoring me. Was this her way of dealing?

I leaned over and read a text she received. “Eww. Stop sexting with Tolmin. If he texts you a picture of his lap rocket, I am totally not speaking to either of you again.”

“Lap rocket?” Kelsi laughed so hard she snorted. The receptionist at the desk gave us a dirty look. “I prefer to call it his beef whistle.”

“His wing-wang doodle boy?” I suggested, trying to keep my voice down.

“Purple-headed cyclops.”

“Heat-seeking, throbbing python of love.”

“You win,” Kelsi cried, wiping tears from her eyes.

I giggled. “We are so mature.”

Two hours later, I received good news about my brain scan, and after another physical exam, the neurologist cleared me to race again. I couldn’t wait to ride outside, considering I had less than a week to prepare for the Indiana Cycling Classic.

After we got home, I headed straight upstairs to change into cycling clothes. I stuffed an energy bar in the back pocket of my jersey and filled up two water bottles. The whole afternoon lay before me, and I planned to ride up north, enjoy the sun, and reflect on my future.

Four hours later, I wobbled back into the garage. My phone’s weather app had indicated a slight breeze. Slight breeze, my ass. A strong headwind held me back the entire return trip. With a groan, I bent down and unclipped my shoes. Even the muscles in my feet hurt.

I took a shower and dressed quickly for work. No way did I want to be late again and give Mike a reason to be mad at me. I needed to stay on his good side so he’d give me extra hours and a good recommendation. By the time I arrived at the bike shop, my leg muscles had seized up, and I was walking like a zombie. I headed into the back room to sign in.

Working at a bench, Nick lifted his head, then quickly turned in the other direction.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets.

I didn’t know what to say. Could we get past the awkwardness of the unwanted kiss? My gaze wandered, finally landing on the chipped black-and-white clock on the wall.

“Sorry, Bails,” he said, turning to face me.

“Yeah.” I let out a breath.

“Look. I’m just not used to you having a boyfriend, but I get it. You’re off-limits.” Shrugging, he kicked a bike stand. “Even if he’s not right for you.”

“And you are?” I asked softly.

Nick leaned against a workbench and lifted his chin. He melodramatically dragged a hand through his shaggy hair, one corner of his mouth curving. “I’m here if you ever want to find out.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his swag attempt. “Fine. I’ll keep that in mind.”

His cocky smirk widened into his standard goofy grin. “So, we’re cool?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Good.” He tapped the schedule posted on the counter. “You’re working more hours than usual. Why’s that?”

“Need the extra money.”

He regarded me with a shrewd look.

“What?” I sidestepped him to reach the sign-in board.

“You’re joining that cycling team in Colorado, aren’t you?”

“Um, yeah. Any problem with that?”

Nick jiggled his keys and stared off into space. I started to get a weird vibe, but then he smiled broadly. “Nope. No problem at all. This is the right move for your racing career. You go out there and kill it, Bails.”

“Thanks.” I pushed open the door to the sales floor and paused. Something seemed off about Nick’s response. Why would he be happy I was moving? Just because I wouldn’t date him? Because I had a boyfriend?

Because I had a boyfriend.

I slapped my forehead. Nick was happy because I’d be miles apart from Piran. My jaw tightened, and I shook my head. I’d show Nick. I’d show everyone.

Distance would not drive Piran and me apart.

BOOK: A Sprint To His Heart
9.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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