Crazy Love

by Highley, Kendra C.

  Guys were bouncy when they won. It didn’t matter what they won, either. Kit and Luke were talking with their hands, over each other, laughing and bragging and jumping up to demonstrate some move. They’d come to the café to have a quiet dinner, just the four of them, but quiet didn’t seem to be on the menu.

  Charlotte watched with a huge smile on her face. They’d run two additional heats—with Kit beating Luke’s time in the second—to set up the semis for first thing in the morning. Tucker, of course, had come in third. Not that anyone was talking about him. Kit and Luke had been mobbed for autographs and sound bites at the end of the day, and Tucker had skulked off like a shunned schoolboy.

  Charlotte wanted to say it warmed her heart, but she couldn’t. Tucker wouldn’t let this stand, and he was in Luke’s heat for the semifinals. If he gave Luke another concussion, there’d be hell to pay where she was concerned.

  She didn’t want to spoil the mood with dire warnings, though, not with the way Luke looked at her from time to time. He was on fire, and she was sure he wanted to share the feeling.

  Evangeline set down plates of swiss steak, fried new potatoes, and salad. “You two are like a couple of little girls after a dance recital.”

  Kit grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. “I take that as a compliment.”

  She laughed and tried to squirm away—but not too hard. “You’re so weird.”

  Luke took Charlotte’s hand, leaving Kit and Evangeline to talk smack in between long kisses. “What’d you think, really? About SBX?”

  “It was amazing,” she said. “You were amazing.”

  He ducked his head—it was so cute. For such a swaggering, confident guy, it was funny how a little praise did him in. “My family is coming tomorrow. Not Dad, of course, but Parker, Mom, and Zoey. I’m hoping they feel the same way.”

  “They will. There’s no way they couldn’t.” Charlotte kissed him. “I’m so proud of you.”

  He smiled up at her. “Thanks.”

  Charlotte glanced at Kit and Evangeline. They weren’t coming up for air anytime soon. “Let’s eat upstairs. It’s getting late, and you need a good night’s sleep. Want to stay here?”

  His smile turned wicked. “Do you honestly think we’ll get any sleep if I stay over?”

  “You might,” she said, kissing him on the forehead. “Or might not.”

  He pulled her closer. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Luke

  Luke stretched on the floor in front of Charlotte’s fireplace. They’d actually gotten some sleep, and he felt rested, loose. Today was the day. He’d been so fast yesterday—as fast as Kit—and if he kept his cool, he would make the finals.

  The only fly in the ointment was Tucker. Luke hadn’t said anything to anyone last night, but the kid looked ready for a fight. He’d gotten an official warning for the hit last week. Because it could have been an accident and it was Tucker’s first offense, they’d let him race this week, but Luke doubted a warning would stop Tucker. His ego was bruised, being almost a second off the leaders’ pace. Luke had no doubt the kid would try something in the semis.

  “Morning,” Charlotte said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty. I didn’t want to wake you up since it’s your day off.”

  She climbed out of bed, patting his head as she walked over to the coffeemaker. “Your race is at eleven. I was going to be up in an hour anyway. What time are you heading over?”

  Luke bent deeper into his stretch, relishing the ache in his hamstrings. The muscles released slowly, and he breathed into it. “Soon. I need to take an easy practice run to loosen up. Michael wants to meet me at seven forty-five.”

  “Too bad. The way you’re bending around on the floor is giving me ideas.”

  Luke looked up to find Charlotte watching him like a lioness in need of a meal. So hot. “After this afternoon, your wish is my command.”

  “Oh, you better be careful with promises like that.” She smiled at him over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom. “I’ll make you pay up.”

  And I’ll enjoy every minute. “Think Mr. Bzdyl will have a heart attack when I show up downstairs?”

  “Nah.” Charlotte leaned out the bathroom door. “I bet Evangeline let him know. Something tells me you’ll have an omelet waiting.”

  Luke nodded and put on his boots. His stomach was leaping both in excitement and nerves, but he had to eat. He slipped out of Charlotte’s apartment and took the stairs quietly, wondering if he could sneak out back and come in through the front door like he’d just arrived…

  “There he is!” Mr. Bzdyl crowed. “You were very fast yesterday, my Evangeline says. You and Kit.”

  Luke flushed. Mr. Bzdyl was wearing a shrewd smile and working at the end of the kitchen counter that had a direct view of Charlotte’s stairs.

  Busted doesn’t even cover it. He felt like he’d been caught feeling up a girl on her doorstep when her dad flipped on the porch light. How funny. “Uh…yeah, thanks.”

  Mr. Bzdyl waved him into the kitchen. “Omelet? It can be ready in five minutes.”

  Charlotte must read minds. Luke nodded. “Sounds good. Should I go out to the bar?”

  Mr. Bzdyl pointed at a chair in the corner of the kitchen, near the oven where it was warm and smelling of cinnamon rolls. “You are family. You sit in here with me, yes?”

  Mrs. Bzdyl smiled from around the fridge door. “And me.”

  Luke couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his mouth. “Thanks. Really.”

  “You’re good to lovely Charlotte. She deserves a good young man.” Mr. Bzdyl handed him a cup of coffee. “Race fast again today, you and Evangeline’s Kit, too. Then we’ll celebrate. I’ll make a big dinner.”

  “And I’ll make a cake,” Mrs. Bzdyl said.

  Luke nodded, his throat too tight to speak. After worrying about his own family, being accepted here was unexpected…and awesome. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  He ate his omelet, listening to Mr. Bzdyl sing in Polish and Mrs. Bzdyl murmur what were probably Polish curses at the oven, which she kicked once. “It doesn’t like winter.”

  “That’s too bad, because it lives on a mountain,” Luke said, laughing.

  “Stupid thing. Oh, well.” She took Luke’s empty plate. “You want some milk? More coffee?”

  “No, this was great, thank you. I better head out. My trainer will be waiting for me.” He stood, then swooped Mrs. Bzdyl into a hug. “Thanks for everything.”

  Mr. Bzdyl came over. “And what about me, eh?”

  Luke hugged him, too, patting the man heartily on the back. “You keep saying Charlotte deserves a guy like me, but she’s lucky to have both of you. And so am I.”

  Mrs. Bzdyl looked like she was on the verge of tears, but stopped and sniffed the air. “My rolls! Damnable oven!”

  Luke waved and cleared out so they’d have room to deal with the burned rolls. As he crossed the path down to the parking area, he glanced back at the café, with its cheery yellow paint and welcoming open sign.

  How’d I get so lucky?

  No doubt that he had. Now, he just needed that luck to hold for one more day.

  “Just go up there and let it all go. Don’t save anything for later—do what you have to to make it to the finals,” Michael said, his hands clenched on Luke’s shoulders. “Fight all the way down.”

  Luke nodded, sending little snowflakes swirling. The snow had started as he’d pulled into the parking lot, but it wasn’t hard enough to delay or cancel the race. Spectators milled around below the competitor staging area, eager for the show to start.

  By his glare, so was Tucker. Michael noticed Luke’s attention had slipped and glanced over his shoulder. “Watch out for that little bastard. He’s been talking big around town about how’s he’s planning to own you and Kit today. I’m not sure he means in the race, so I’m glad you stayed in last night.”

 
Luke snorted. So am I—and I bet I had a better time than Tucker. “I’m ready for whatever he brings.”

  “Good.”

  “Luke!” a familiar woman’s voice called, followed by a deeper, “Bro! Over here!”

  Luke turned to find Zoey, Parker, and his mom standing at the barrier between the spectator and competitor area. Michael gave him a fist bump. “Go say hi then get on the lift. It’s almost showtime.”

  “Will do.”

  Luke carried his board over with him, not trusting Tucker to resist the temptation to mess with it. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

  Mom was staring up the course. “This isn’t anything like those U14 races.”

  She sounded worried. “And I’m a lot bigger than I was then. Just a matter of scale. Besides, I’m in second place, Mom. I think I have a pretty good handle on that monster.”

  Parker nodded, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. “I’d love to run a few jumps off those kickers.”

  “Go take a run at the Snowmass course,” Luke said. “You’d have fun.”

  “I just might.” Parker put an arm around Zoey. “We’re ready to cheer you on.”

  “And pray you don’t get hurt,” Mom added.

  “I’ll be fine. Really.” Luke started to say something else, but caught sight of Charlotte and Evangeline crossing the field. “Hey, Zoey, do you want to meet Charlotte?”

  “Ooh, yes!” Zoey clapped her hands. Her nose and cheeks were pink with cold. “That’s the real reason I’m here.”

  Luke laughed and waved at Charlotte, who pushed her way through the crowd. “There’s a ton of people here today.”

  “Yeah, it gets crowded on finals day.” He kissed her cheek. “By the way, this is my family.”

  “I’ve met your mom, but this must be Parker and Zoey.” Charlotte made her polite hellos, but her attention stayed fixed on Luke. “Michael is tapping his watch.”

  He shouldered his board. “Better go.”

  “Good luck up there.” She gave his arm a little squeeze. “And be safe.”

  “Will do.”

  He walked over to the lift and waved at two of the guys in his heat before turning to look at everyone and giving them a quick thumbs-up.

  “God, get it over with and climb aboard. We’re waiting on you,” Tucker snapped from behind him.

  “Don’t be a douche.” That came from Tommy Reeve, the third man on the roster. “We all decompress in different ways.”

  The fourth guy, Brendon-something, nodded. “Maybe Tucker’s pissy ’cuz he doesn’t have people.”

  “Easy, guys,” Luke said, as the gondola door slid shut. “We’ll settle it up top.”

  “That we will, my man,” Brendon said. “That we will.”

  Tucker didn’t say anything. He stared moodily out the window the whole way up. When they docked, he hopped out of the gondola before anyone else, darting to the building at the starting gate. Luke sighed and followed at a more leisurely pace. That feeling of peace from this morning was holding, and that would make for a good race. He wouldn’t let Tucker take that away from him.

  He, Brendon, and Tommy went to their gates to get ready to drop in for the start, eyeing Tucker as they took their places. The air crackled with tension, excitement. The gate official stepped forward. “We’re about to start the clock, gentlemen.”

  Luke rolled his neck and grabbed the rails next to his gate. On either side, the others did the same. Tommy slid back and forth, singing a jingle from a canned-soup commercial, and Brendon cracked a smile. Luke did, too. This was the best kind of racing—when it was fun, and when the competitors were there to have a good time. Only Tucker didn’t seem to be enjoying it. His skin looked sallow, and his face was pinched. Definitely not in a good place.

  The clock started, and the group went quiet enough Luke could hear the others breathing. Faint bells and a muffled roar were the only evidence of the crowd below. From this angle, they couldn’t even see them.

  “Forty-five seconds.”

  Easy, nice and easy.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  Float the ride, follow the line.

  “Fifteen seconds.”

  Luke cleared his mind, gripping the rails tighter, coiling his body like a spring.

  “Three, two…”

  The bell rang, and Luke launched himself off the start like he’d been shot from a gun. Brendon actually whistled as Luke took off, so it had to be fast, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. The snowflakes, which seemed so tiny on the ground, pelted his face and goggles as he rounded the first turn. The first set of rollers slowed him down a little, but Luke stayed low into turn two, flying up the kicker. He sailed down the hill into the next set of rollers.

  And heard something—the skid of another snowboard, right behind him.

  He couldn’t look, but he just knew it was Tucker. The kid hadn’t boarded this fast all competition. Either he’d been holding back, or he’d been waiting for this. Luke whipped around turn three, using every bit of balance and power to stay on his line and in front of Tucker.

  On the next set of rollers, color was in Luke’s peripheral vision—something bright green—Tucker’s coat. He was right there.

  Shit. Luke took turn four into kicker number two, and Tucker lost a little ground as Luke’s heavier body took him farther down the hill. But the kid made it up on the rollers, and they went into turn five with Tucker maybe an inch behind.

  The last set of rollers had them in a dead heat. Luke’s pulse pounded as he fought to control his breathing and maintain control. Tucker was taking his line too close to Luke’s, and that was probably the point. They nearly collided in the last turn, and Luke growled as they parted to hit the final kicker. Luke landed ahead of Tucker, but he couldn’t tell how much.

  Luke was almost to the finish line when something crashed into his side and threw off his balance. His ankle rolled, and something popped, but he stayed upright, pain lancing up his calf.

  Tucker sailed across the line first, Luke wobbling over right behind him. As soon as he was safely in second, Luke let his board skid out from under him. He landed on his butt and reached to grip his ankle.

  “You son of a bitch!” Luke yelled at Tucker. “You fucking asswipe!”

  “Hey! Watch it!” A course official jogged over, wagging a finger. “Stop now, or you’ll be disqualified.”

  “Me? Did you see that hit from behind? He did it on purpose.” Luke tried to stand, sucking in a sharp breath and sinking back down. “He caused an injury, and he’s on probation.”

  “It looked like a legal tap.” The official shook his head and waved over the paramedics. “We need to get you off the course and to the med tent.”

  As the paramedics helped remove his board and lift Luke to his feet—well, his foot, since he couldn’t bear weight on his left foot at all—Tucker made a gun out of his forefinger and thumb.

  And pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Charlotte

  “I can’t believe he did that! I’m going to kill Tucker. Kill him,” Charlotte raged. When Luke had wobbled, then fallen right past the finish line, Charlotte’s blood had boiled. Was still boiling. She’d be freaked out and worried later. Right now she wanted punch Tucker right in his pimply face. “Where are they taking Luke?”

  “Med tent,” his mother said, her face pale and eyes wide. “God, I hate this sport.”

  “He’s okay, Mom.” Parker put an arm around her shoulders. He looked more like Luke’s mom than Luke did, and the kid was tall, tall, tall. “You saw—he was able to get up.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Madison, he’ll be fine,” Zoey said, smiling with encouragement, even though her eyes flashed with anger.

  Charlotte took a deep breath, remembering what Luke had said about his mom’s real reason for wanting him to stop competing. “Where’s the med tent? I want to check on him.”

  “Oh, they’ll take good care of him,” Parker said.

  “Have they bee
n trainers for a Division I football program or majored in biology with a minor in sports medicine?” Charlotte asked. “I’ve handled a lot of ankle injuries like this.”

  Everyone’s eyebrows went up. “It’s that way.” Zoey pointed, her expression approving.

  Charlotte nodded and stomped toward a tent with a red cross on it. Evangeline fell into step beside her. “Kit’s up in a few, but if you need me, I’ll come with you.”

  Charlotte waved a hand. “I’m good. Go cheer Kit on.”

  Evangeline nodded and turned back. Charlotte continued on to the tent but was stopped by an official with a safety-orange bib. “Sorry, miss. Only authorized personnel.”

  “My boyfriend’s in there,” she said, her mouth set in a hard line. “So either let me in, or be prepared for a meltdown.”

  The man frowned, then poked his head inside. “There’s some crazy lady out here looking for Luke.”

  Luke’s laugh floated outside—it was strained, which only pissed Charlotte off more. “Let her in or risk peril. I’m serious, man.”

  The man waved her in. Luke was sitting on a cot with his head propped up and his left leg resting on a pile of pillows, while a paramedic looked him over.

  Charlotte stepped in closer, checking out his leg. His ankle was already darkening to a blackish-purple, and his toes had swollen. The bruise snaked up his lower calf. “Can you move it?”

  Luke gritted his teeth and managed a little wiggle. “Not really. That asshole took the finals from me.”

  He shook his head, his fists clenched. She ached to reach out and kiss him until the disappointment faded, but that was giving in to defeat. He was pissed, and hurting, but she could fix this. She could get him into the finals. That would show Tucker, and it’s what Luke needed, more than anything.

  “Let me think.” Charlotte tapped her finger against her mouth. Sympathy could totally wait. She waved at the paramedic. “I need ibuprofen, cold packs, prewrap, and athletic tape.”

  The paramedic looked at Luke, then back at her. “Miss, he’s done for the day. There might be a fracture.”

  She checked out his ankle again. It looked exactly like Zeke Abram’s had during halftime of ASU’s conference championship game her senior year. His ankle hadn’t been broken, and she’d fixed him up in time to catch not one, but two touchdowns, one of which had won their game and clinched a bowl appearance. She’d fix Luke, too, and relish the look of surprise on Tucker’s face.