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In the distance, the bikers disappeared into the darkness. Around me, the chatter resumed, but this time it was about the race. Money flowed easily as people made bets on who would win.

Jason bet a hundred dollars on Luke, and Ethan bet two hundred. Where the hell did they get so much money?

Two minutes later, someone yelled, “Here they come!”

Everyone turned to the road, and we saw the headlights approaching.

“Which one is Luke?” I asked.

“The one on the right,” Ethan said.

How could he tell? No matter, my attention was on Luke.

Come on, Luke. Come on. You can do it.

I froze.

Apparently, I wasn’t mad at Luke anymore. Maybe I never was. Maybe I had always been mad at Ryan and ended up laying it on everyone around me.

Luke lost the leader to the rider in the center.

“Come on, Luke!” my brother shouted.

With expertise, Luke dropped back and pulled his bike to the other side of the lead biker. Then, he pushed through the left. My palms sweated and my heart raced as he caught up with the other biker inch by inch. He could do it. He just needed to push a little bit more.

“You can do it, Luke!” Sophie yelled.

The racers got closer, and the crowd opened a corridor past the white line.

In the last three seconds, Luke passed the other driver and crossed the line first.

We all cheered.

Jason, Ethan, Sophie, and Rachel ran to Luke along with half the crowd. My feet wanted to move, to go congratulate him, but my mind wouldn’t actually give the command.

You’re better than this, Jessica.

I forced a step, and then another, then another, and the weight in my legs diminished with each step. I approached the closed circle around him, and then Luke was lifted by the crowd and carried away.

Apparently, the universe didn’t want me to speak with Luke, but I could speak to someone else.

I turned to Jason. “You came with your bike?”

“Yeah. Why?” he asked.

“Because I need a car.”

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked.

“To do something I should have done since the day I got here.”

The girls smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. I bet Jason and Ethan also knew.

“I brought my car and the bike trailer,” Ethan said. He fished the keys from his biker jacket. “You can take it.”

“But if the police show up?”

He grinned. “We run faster with the bikes.”

I took the keys from him. “Thanks.”

I turned to leave and Jason’s hand closed around my arm. “Be careful with what you say.”

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t torture him … much.” I winked, and he laughed.

Chapter Thirteen

 

Jessica

I was more into SUVs, but Ethan’s red and black Camaro was one hell of a smooth ride.

My heart beat faster and faster with each mile closer I came to Ryan’s apartment. I turned the last corner and took a deep breath. I was doing this. I was actually doing this. I was going to talk to Ryan.

I parked Ethan’s car behind Ryan’s Mustang. I was about to open the door when I saw him in a garage beside the Blockbuster, working on his Harley Davidson. He bought that thing when he was eighteen, right after he got his car from his grandpa. He saved every cent for two years to buy it, even though the thing needed a lot of work. But that was the fun part. He loved working on it, even without guarantees that it would ever run again.

Focused on his work, he hadn’t noticed the car parked right behind him. And I was actually glad. This way, I could gawk at him and not feel guilty. It was his fault that he was wearing only low-riding jeans, with a fraction of his black boxers showing, his black boots, and nothing else.

Damn, he had really bulked up. The muscles in his back, shoulders, and arms popped with each of his movements. Even his legs and his ass looked fuller.

The heat inside Ethan’s car increased.

Ryan reached behind him for a tool and saw the car. He frowned, and then started walking to the car. With the dark windows, he probably didn’t see me.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

With wide eyes, Ryan halted.

I slipped out of the car. “Hi.”

He looked at the car and back at me. “What are you doing with Ethan’s car?”

“He lent it to me.” I forced my eyes to stay on his handsome face, though all they wanted to do was roam over his taut chest and rippled abdomen. I swallowed. “We were at the race, and he had his bike with him.”

He nodded. “He’s such a girl, always taking his bike on the trailer.”

Trying to lighten the air a little, I put my hands on my hips. “I take offense to that sentence.”

His eyes followed my hands for a brief moment before returning to mine. “What are you doing here?”

I didn’t have a good answer for that. So, I ignored it. I walked past him and went to get a closer look at his Harley. It was still a beauty, but now more polished and less messy. By the looks of it, he spent a lot of time working on it. Yet, it had been four years. Shouldn’t he have finished it already?

I scanned the place. The garage was small, for one car only, but it housed his tools, a couple of folding chairs, an old stereo, and his two bikes. Resting along the back wall was his ninja bike, similar to Jason’s, Luke’s, and Ethan’s. The guys had been crazy about bikes since they were ten. I remembered they started saving money not much later. They did all kinds of things—car washing, selling lemonade, and lawn mowing. Jason had been the first to buy his bike, the day he turned sixteen. Papa almost had a fit. Not long after, Ryan turned sixteen and bought his bike, the same one gathering dust in this garage.

Getting closer, I noticed it was messed up, like it had been in a bad accident, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it yet.

“What happened?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I turned around. His hazel eyes were hard on mine. “Is that why you don’t ride it anymore? Because both of your bikes are in need of work?”

Ryan grabbed a black shirt from one of the folding chairs and pulled it over his head. What a shame. His jaw ticked. “Look, I don’t mind bumping into you every now and then, but intentionally? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I flinched. Wow, why was he such a jerk? I was the one who should be mad at him, and I still was, but I was trying to get past it, to move on. He didn’t have the right to be mad at me. I had done nothing but love him. If that made him mad, well, then he should learn not to play with girls’ hearts.

“I thought I was doing you a favor by trying to be nice, by trying to put the past behind us. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends again, but if we can co-exist for the next two months, for the sake of our friends, don’t you think it’ll be better than trying to avoid each other and failing?”

His chest rose and fell slowly. “Jess …”

“I don’t know what you’re mad about. I’m the one who is mad at you, Ryan. I’m the one who suffered here. Don’t pretend I hurt you, because we both know it was exactly the opposite.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell me. What is it?” I took a step closer to him. I thought he would retreat, but he held his ground, his eyes fixed on mine. “Everyone keeps telling me something happened to you after I left and that I should talk to you about it.”

He glanced over his shoulder to the street, then back at me. “You should go.”

If I were still sixteen, I would have teared up and ran from the garage as if it were on fire. I wasn’t sixteen anymore, though, and the events that sent me away had changed me. A lot. It wasn’t in my plans to come back home and face my past, but now that I was here, I wasn’t running away.

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin, putting as much strength as I could in my stare. “No. I want to know. You owe me that much.”