The Holeshot

by Lynn Michaels

  A strange tension filled the little economy car, one that had never been between them. Tyler immediately hated it and knew he had caused it. “Davey—”

  “Can I kiss you?” Davey interrupted.

  “God, hell yes,” Tyler sighed.

  Davey pulled him close, his hand at the back of his neck, and brushed his lips lightly over Tyler’s. “You smell good,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Tyler’s response was barely a whisper against Davey’s soft lips. He wanted more, but he waited.

  Slowly, Davey leaned in, increasing the pressure, then slipped his tongue just inside Tyler’s lips. He couldn’t stand waiting one second longer. Tyler kissed back passionately with tongue and mouth and lips and gasping breath. Davey pulled away first.

  “Damn. Davey. I am so sorry.”

  Davey waved a hand in the air. “Later. Let’s go eat.”

  “Okay. There’s a steakhouse not too far.”

  “I ate steak with you yesterday.”

  “So?”

  Davey laughed. “Sorry, can’t have steak twice in one week. Besides, it’s too close to race day. I need something light. Chicken or something.”

  “Barbeque? I could do some pulled pork.”

  Davey nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Fire up the GPS and let’s get out of here.” Tyler put the car in reverse and then pulled away from the curb. They found a place to eat that was far enough away that they wouldn’t expect to run into anyone from the industry. Davey spent the twenty minutes it took to get there giving the GPS directions and helping to navigate. The previous tension had completely dissipated, and Tyler relaxed and had fun. He enjoyed spending some time with Davey out of bed. Every time he made Davey laugh, his heart beat just a little faster and his tummy fluttered like clothes tumbling in a dryer.

  At the restaurant, Davey asked for a booth in the back. It was Thursday night, so the staff accommodated them easily. Davey slid in, and Tyler started to slide in across from him. “No,” Davey said. “Please sit with me, here?” He patted the vinyl seat.

  “Okay.” Tyler stood back up and then sat next to Davey. It was odd, but he liked it.

  “We can talk quieter, beside each other,” Davey said. His eyes flashed like stars at twilight in the dim lighting. Tyler simply couldn’t resist him.

  Tyler looked over and smiled as his thigh brushed up against Davey’s leg. Tyler wished they could always be like this, sitting peacefully side by side, but a deep sinking feeling inside his chest warred with that idea; his heart knew better. He cleared his throat. “Davey.”

  “I know. You’re sorry.”

  “But, it’s not that simple. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just panicked.”

  “I get it. It’s okay.” He put his hand on Tyler’s thigh. Damn if that didn’t make everything harder, including his cock.

  “We just need to talk about this and get it all out. I don’t want us to get fucked up because we didn’t understand each other.”

  Davey looked down at his lap. “Is that what happened? We misunderstood?”

  Tyler started to shrug, but the waiter approached the table. “Can I get y’all something to drink?” His southern accent was thick and just as warm as anything from the south.

  “Water, please.” Davey spoke first.

  “Me too.”

  “Okay. Two waters. Be back in a minute.” Off he scooted.

  “Okay. No misunderstandings. I’ll lay it out. I like you, Tyler. I like you a lot. I like hanging out with you, making out with you, and everything in between. And damn it. I want more. You’re so fucking adorable. I cannot get enough of you. Is that clear enough? You understand?”

  Tyler sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. He felt the heat of a blush rising up his face.

  “Now you’re blushing. Do you know what that does to me?” Davey breathed his words into Tyler’s ear.

  Between the heat of Davey’s breath and the heat from his palm still lying across Tyler’s thigh, his cock swelled against his shorts. He nudged his shoulder into Davey’s to get his attention. When Davey looked at him, he nodded down, gesturing to his bulge.

  “Guess you do know.”

  “I like you, too,” Tyler whispered. “A lot. More than anyone, ever.”

  “So, why do we have a problem?”

  “Because, Davey, we can’t do this. We can’t be seeing each other.”

  “So, all this is because you’re afraid of getting busted?”

  “Yes!” The thought alone had Tyler wanting to pull away. He felt his body leaning away from Davey.

  “Don’t. Don’t.” Davey grabbed Tyler’s arm. He slid his hand down his bicep and then into Tyler’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Just don’t. Let’s talk.”

  The waiter put the water glasses on the table. He could obviously see them holding hands, and Tyler blushed again. “Y’all know what you want, yet?” he asked.

  “Pulled pork sandwich and fries,” Tyler ordered.

  “I’d like that too, but no bread and can I have coleslaw instead of fries? Sauce on the side?”

  “Sure. No problem, hon.” The waiter winked at them as he turned and walked away.

  “Think he’s gay?” Davey asked with a slight tilt of his head.

  Tyler laughed. “Probably.”

  The tension broke again, and this time Tyler was reluctant to change that. He sipped on his water and enjoyed feeling Davey’s palm pressed against his own. It couldn’t last, though, and he knew it. He was tired of fighting for the wrong side, so he said nothing.

  “Tyler. I know how you feel. I get it. I’m not saying we should make our relationship public, but I want you to get where I’m coming from too.”

  Tyler looked up into Davey’s eyes when he paused. “What?”

  “I only have a few years left of my career. Riders don’t generally keep going into their thirties. It’s a hard, demanding sport. Hard on the body and the nerves and the fucking ego.” Davey laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, not a jovial one. “I need to win a championship, this year or next. After that? I just don’t give a fuck. So, if you’re worried so much about me losing sponsors, don’t. My career is at its height and there’s nothing but down after that, regardless. I know this and I’m okay with it. I think maybe I’m worrying more about finding someone to spend the rest of my life with, rather than keeping sponsors.”

  Tyler started to shake. Davey said the rest of his life. He felt his mouth open and close again, but he had no words.

  “Don’t freak out. I don’t mean that’s you, but doesn’t mean it’s not, either. I don’t know right now. I just want to spend more time with you. Okay? Let’s not make this all so fucking hard.”

  Tyler took a big gulp of his water. He took a moment to process Davey’s words. “Shit. I don’t want to make it hard.”

  “Then, don’t. Just enjoy it. This. Racing. It’s all I’ve ever done, Tyler. You? You’re different. You’re something I’ve never had and might not ever have, but I want it.”

  “I have a career too, Davey. I care about my career. Goddamn, it might not be all in the limelight, but it’s important. It’s important to me, to my racer, to my team.”

  “I never said otherwise.”

  “Getting called out with you. That would ruin me. You may not give a shit, but I’m not at the top. I’m just starting and I love it so much.”

  The waiter returned with plates and two big bottles of barbecue sauces. “This one is regular, this one’s hot, very hot.” He winked again as he set the bottles on the table. “Can I get y’all anything else?”

  Tyler and Davey assured him they were fine, and when he left, Davey spoke up quickly. “Join my team.”

  “What?”

  “Work on my team.” Davey squirted sauce over his pork and started mixing it up with his fork.

  Tyler looked down at his food, not nearly as hungry as he had been. “I can’t do that. I’m too involved with you. It’s not good. I won’t work for you.”

&
nbsp; “Then, work on one of the 250 teams for my sponsor.”

  “Fuck you. I worked too hard to get on a 450 team. I worked hard to get where I am. I’m not throwing it away.” Tyler still fumed about having to work on the smaller bike all day for Cody, though he’d never complain, but the 450s held his passion. They represented the height of Motocross and Tyler felt lucky to be there, but he’d also proven his abilities.

  Davey stuffed a forkful of pork in his mouth. “This is good,” he muttered around his food.

  Tyler sighed and stuffed a fry in his mouth.

  “Fucking eat, Tyler, seriously.”

  They ate without talking much about anything except the food, and Tyler insisted on paying. Davey let him, though reluctantly. They got in the car and started back toward the Georgia Dome.

  “Tyler,” Davey said, softly, his tone making Tyler dread what was coming.

  “Yeah?”

  “I seriously thought you were breaking up with me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Davey’s hand slid over his thigh. “I meant what I said earlier. I want you to think about it all, but not too much. Okay?”

  Tyler glanced over at Davey, then back to the road. His lover stared at him, expecting an answer of some sort, but Tyler didn’t know what the hell to say.

  “The problem here seems to be that I’ve been pushing too hard. Right?” Davey asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Fine. I’ll back off. For now. But, after the season…”

  “There’s only three races after Georgia.”

  “I know.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Davey stared out the window while Tyler concentrated on driving. He didn’t want the night to end, knowing that he’d have to go back to that empty hotel room alone. He wanted Davey to suggest getting a different hotel, but he was being stupid. He was the one that said they couldn’t do this. He was the one telling Davey to back off, and he said he would. Tyler had to accept that.

  “Tyler.”

  “What?”

  “I have a lot of stuff planned during the offseason.” He stroked his hand up Tyler’s thigh. “But, I want you to come out to The Ranch for a few weeks. I need the time off and I’d like you there.”

  “Where?”

  “The Ranch, my house. It’s the estate my dad left me. He always called it ‘The Ranch,’ it stuck,” he shrugged.

  “Uh, I don’t know.”

  Davey squeezed down on Tyler’s thigh. “It’s out in the middle of the desert. I don’t get surprise guests. No one will know you’re there. It’ll be fun. Come on.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’re making me nuts, baby.”

  13

  Angel watched the races with interest. Davey McAllister impressed her on the track. She still didn’t have her missing link, but was ready to find out more. She sent a text message to Jessop and he agreed to meet her.

  She shot a lot of film on the track that day, excited about the quality of it. She showed Jessop when they finally met down in the pits.

  “Very impressive, Angel,” he said when she shared the footage. “We had a GoPro hooked up today. Can you coordinate that and release some of it for us?”

  “Of course.” She rolled her eyes. Stewart Jessop looked like a big hunky cowboy, minus the hat. He wore tight jeans and a button up plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and cowboy boots. He smelled like Stetson. She could roll around in that scent like a dog in shit and die happy. She gazed into his hazel eyes, appreciating the stare he gave back. They definitely had some chemistry sparking, making her interest level jump up another notch. “So, what’s all the PR control about?” she asked, throwing his own words back at him.

  “I’m not sure it’s necessarily anything to worry about. If it is, you can help. If it isn’t, we can still get some desperately needed publicity from our deal. Sound good?”

  “It does, but just to let you know, I have a contact at MotoMags.com and I’m selling them some shots throughout the rest of the season.” She made a note in her phone’s calendar app.

  “Not a problem.”

  Angel smiled. She liked this guy’s attitude. “Okay, then. I’ll send you a standard contract. My fee is nonnegotiable.”

  “Okay. Not a problem. So, want to meet me for a drink? Davey will be there and you can meet him and maybe get a better grip on the situation.”

  “Okay. Where? I’ll meet you.” Yes, this man absolutely intrigued her. Whether she had to deal with a real issue or not, she knew she wanted to know more about Stewart Jessop.

  14

  Davey couldn’t contain his excitement over the phenomenal race that week. He not only won his heat, but placed second in the Main Event. Tate Jordan took first, spoiling it for him, but Tate seemed like a decent guy, so it didn’t upset Davey too much. Cole Lindt placed third, and the prior champion, Chad Regal, came in fourth, which kept Davey in the first-place slot in points even without winning the race. The results fired him up. Winning the championship this year would give him everything he’d dreamed and maybe even Tyler.

  He couldn’t stop thinking of his lover through the interviews and autographs and hoped like hell Tyler would be at Post-Knights later that night. Most of the teams congregated there to celebrate or commiserate after the race.

  Once his last interview was finished, his trainer, Brad, nudged his shoulder. “Come on already!”

  “Yeah, coming.” He piled into the back of the rental car with Stewart while Shorty jumped into the front passenger side. Davey pulled out his phone while Brad drove them over, not finding any texts from Tyler. He desperately wanted to send one, but he’d promised to back off and give Tyler some space. That was already proving a lot harder than he originally thought it would be.

  Once at the bar, Davey got a bottle of water. He liked that this club always had bottled water available for the athletes and performers that hung out there. He ordered a salad with grilled chicken as well. Then, he sat back and scanned the crowd, looking for Tyler, anxious to see his lover.

  He didn’t feel sociable at all and when a couple of the track girls came over, he ran them off quickly. They held up the track signs before the races dressed in skimpy outfits, stood beside the winners on the podium, and at the after parties every rider wanted their attention. Davey wasn’t interested.

  Stewart plopped down next to him. “What’s goin’ on, Davey?”

  “Eating,” he mumbled with a mouthful of lettuce and cheese.

  “Fine. Hey, I’m having some pics from the GoPro footage from tonight’s Main Event sent to your phone. Approve a handful of them for me. ‘Kay? They’re going out on social media.”

  “Cool.”

  “Angel is going to be humming around this place tonight takin’ more pics.”

  “Who?”

  Stewart reached over and picked a black olive out of his salad and popped it in his mouth. “Photographer chick I told you about.”

  “Oh, right.” He washed his salad down with another gulp of water. He had no idea what Stewart was talking about and he didn’t care. At that moment, he saw Tyler walk into the bar, laughing and joking with another guy. He was about the same height as Tyler, but less stocky with brown hair cut short. He had a long nose and squinty eyes, and his arm around Tyler’s shoulder. They both dressed in jeans and Cole Lindt jerseys.

  “Calm down, stud. That’s another one of Cole’s mechanics and he’s as straight as a board.”

  Davey turned and stared at his extremely perceptive and knowledgeable manager. “You sure? Abso-sure?”

  Stewart grunted, “Is that like absolutely?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then, yes. Totally sure.” Stewart shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. Davey’s heart might as well have been sitting on top of his crappy salad, that’s how big a deal it was to him.

  He stared at Tyler, mentally willing him to look up. When he finally did and their eyes met, Tyler’s eyes lit up, he smiled brighter. Davey smiled righ
t back. He didn’t know if he had enough self-control to keep himself sitting in that booth.

  Tyler turned around, giving Davey his back, and ordered a drink at the bar.

  His phone buzzed. Tyler had sent him a text. You looked hot as hell in your racing gear #27!

  Davey smiled ear to ear, his heart leaping in his chest. Tyler turned back and looked at him over his shoulder with a sly smile of his own.

  Davey tapped his fingers on the key pad, answering him. You look hot as fuck right now!

  Tyler turned and looked down, obviously reading his text. He bounced up and down, the heels of his sneakers actually leaving the floor, and then slammed his shot back. He snuck another look at Davey.

  Davey almost forgot about Stewart, still sitting right there watching the whole scene. “Jeez, Davey. Why don’t you just go get a freakin’ room at different hotel already?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” He looked down at his phone and typed one more text. Meet me out the back door in 3 minutes - just 2 talk.

  K, was the quick response.

  “Be back, or not,” Davey managed, clasping Stewart’s shoulder as he headed for the rear of the building. He stepped out into the back alley behind the bar. In two short minutes, Tyler followed him. “Hey, Ty, over here.” He nodded and walked down the alley and turned down a side street that ran between the bar and an adjacent building that housed other closed businesses. It seemed relatively secluded, and smelled a little better than the trashy back way directly behind the club.

  Tyler followed without a word, until they finally stood face to face next to the brick wall. “Hey, Davey,” he finally managed.

  Davey leaned in and cupped Tyler’s face. His lips grazed over Tyler’s jaw and up to his ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “If I get a hotel room, further away from the Dome, would you come stay with me? Please?” Davey backed up and peered into Tyler’s eyes. He kept his hand on Tyler’s face, the need to touch, overwhelming.