I decide to give Nixon the benefit of the doubt in this situation, but I don’t fully trust his reasons behind it. Since it seems that Nixon wants to keep our relationship under wraps, I’ll be leery of us for quite a while now.
Chapter 25
I’m about to get lined up for the first race of the season. The cold air from the freezing Minnesota winter is being sucked in through the doors that lead to the indoor track, but I’m too pumped up to be competing again to even be cold.
My dad is bundled up, along with all the other men on my team, on the side of the track.
There are ten girls that will line up alongside me during this race, Jen Caruso one of them. I decide to start the new racing year on a positive note and hold my hand out to Jen for a friendly handshake when I see her next to her trailer.
“Hey Jen, good luck today,” I tell her, still waiting for her to take my hand.
She looks at it like it’s going to jump out and bite her, so I drop it and furrow my brow at her.
“What did I ever do to you?” I ask, not quite sure why she doesn’t like me. I have a lot of friends in motocross, a lot of them are the people I compete against, but Jen acts like I gave her crabs or something.
“You didn’t do a damn thing, Black. I just don’t like you.”
I take a good long look at her face one more time. I swear she’s like fifteen. She looks way too young to be swearing.
“Do I need to tell your mommy to wash your mouth out with soap for saying a naughty word, Jen?” I joke, but try to hide my smile which only pisses her off more.
“Fuck off Emmie. I can’t wait to beat you in every race this season. It’s time you get your ass kicked off that pedestal everyone puts you on.”
Ah, that’s it. She doesn’t like that I keep winning. Well it looks like I’m going to have to show her who’s number one, aren’t I.
“Okay, well good talk Jen. See you on the track,” I smile and start my bike to head toward the entrance of the dirt track.
While sitting on the large dirt hill with the long slope, also known as the starting line, the announcer introduces all of the racers for the audience.
“On the pink Yamaha YZ125,” the announcer calls and I smile at the thought of Jack getting my bike painted pink for the new season. It must kill him to have to work on such a girly piece of equipment. “Riding for Black Bear, number 329 returning from a rough crash during her last race last year, motocross’ queen bee Emmie Black.”
I kiss my palm and touch it to my number plate on the back of my bike, one of my rituals, and wave my hand in the air to acknowledge all the people who are cheering for me. I point my finger at my team and dad and give them thumbs up to let them know that everything feels good.
“And finally, a sophomore rider, riding the number 7 yellow Sukuki RM-z450 is youngster Jen Caruso.” She gets a few hoots and hollers, nothing like I had, but to show sportsmanship I clap for her.
When she sees me clapping, she narrows her eyes at me and flips me off.
Well alright. I tried to be nice but now it’s time to lay down the freaking law.
The beeps start and the gate drops. Unfortunately two girls behind me catch tires through the drop in and they fall over, causing four other girls behind them to crash as well.
There are two girls ahead of me but not by much. Of course one of them has to be Jen and she’s gonna cry like the baby she is when she sees the back end of my bike.
Four laps in and I take a corner turn much tighter than Jen and gun it, coming out ahead of her. I’m glad to have her behind me, now I just need to keep it that way. The only other girl in front of me is Bethany Martinez from Mexico. She’s really good and super fun to hang out with so even if I don’t pass her, I’ll be happy with this race.
One lap to go and unfortunately Bethany landed funny through the whoops, the little bunny hills, and it kicked her bike out to the side, throwing her off. I pass her, being very careful not to hit her, and hope that she can get back on her bike and still place.
Before I know it I’m crossing the finish line, happy that I’ve won the first race of the season. I throw my hands in the air in excitement and blow a kiss to my dad, letting him know I love him.
Once I make it back to the trailer Jack takes my bike and I remove all of my protective gear. Now I’m ready to go collect my trophy.
I check my phone quickly, noticing that Nixon has sent me a text.
Nixon: Great race sugar. I knew you’d win. Hope Martinez is alright. See you in a few days
I furrow my brow. What happened to Bethany?
As I make my way back to the track for the awards ceremony I hear Bethany start screaming from somewhere behind me.
“You bitch! You ran over my hand. It’s broken and now I’m out for the entire season.”
I turn around stunned. I was so careful not to hit her. How did I run over her hand?
Then I see that Bethany isn’t yelling at me. She’s yelling at Jen. For some reason this doesn’t shock me.
I go to stand by Bethany to offer support and the opportunity to clock Jen in the nose if she needs me to do it.
“I told you it was an accident,” Jen’s snooty and unsympathetic voice pierces my ears.
“It was not an accident. I watched you change your angle and steer directly at me through those whoops. You hit me on purpose,” Bethany says, holding her bandaged hand close to her chest.
Jen notices me stop next to Bethany and sneers at me.
“What the hell do you want Black? Are you here to rub it in my face that you beat me?”
“Now why would I do that? Only assholes do something like that,” I tell her, remembering her reaction to my crash last season and how she gushed for about five minutes on camera about how awesome it felt to win that race.
Jen just curls her nose at both Bethany and me and turns on her heel, nothing more said.
I turn my attention to my friend, concerned for her racing season and her hand.
“Are you okay Beth?” I ask sadly as I watch the tears well up in her eyes.
“No I’m not okay. That bitch did it on purpose. If you go back on the video you can see how obvious it is that she hit me. Plus my hand is now broken and I won’t be able to race this year. The medics were whispering to each other after they looked me over and I heard them say they hope it heals correctly or it could be the end of me riding pro,” she says, not even trying to wipe away the tears streaming down her face.
I pull her closer to me and give her a soft hug, letting her know that I’ll help her in any way she needs.
“You need to kick her ass this season. Beat her so damn bad that she’s afraid to show her face on the pro track ever again,” Bethany tells me.
I smile and nod, agreeing that getting rid of Jen Caruso once and for all couldn’t ever be a bad thing.
Chapter 26
Nixon and I have been an official couple for almost a month and in that time we’ve had a lot of fun getting to know each other, but never out in public.
Half the time we’re in a different city during the weekend while we have competitions or sponsorship obligations but we try to spend the time that we are in the same town together. Unfortunately it’s always sheltered.
In the beginning I thought it was sweet, like he couldn’t be bothered by the outside world because he wanted to spend every second with me.
After a while, though, it started to wear on me that we only have dinner at home, either his or mine, and he spends the night here most nights so that we can spend time together when we aren’t traveling for work.
Nixon: Be ready for me tonight at 6 babe. I have an awesome date planned for us.
A thrill shoots through me at his text message. I’m glad he’s decided he’s ready to go out in public with me. It was starting to hurt my feelings that he didn’t want anyone to see us together, like he was ashamed of me or something.
I smile and crank up the tunes around my house while I primp and polish to get rea
dy for our first public appearance together.
At exactly six my doorbell rings, making Otis bark like a lunatic at the sound.
I open the door to find a well dressed Nixon in a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows tucked into a gray pair of jeans paired with a gray pair of Vans, laughing on my doorstep.
“Why can’t you just use your damn key so he doesn’t go crazy at the sound of the bell?” I ask pointing to Otis who still hasn’t stopped barking, but is now beating my light blue maxi dress against my calves with every whip of his tail at the sight of Nixon.
He tries to stop his laughter, but is unsuccessful when Otis spins in a circle and his nose catches the back of my knee, making it collapse.
“I’m sorry sugar, but what kind of date would this be if I just let myself into your house? That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me now, would it?”
I shake my head at him and grab my black clutch from the small table I have in my entry way.
When we make it to the passenger door of his truck he stops my movements and pulls a black bandanna out of his back pocket.
“What’s that for?” I ask, pointing to the black square.
“Well I want this date to be a surprise so I need to put this super sexy blindfold over your eyes.”
“Okay,” I smile and turn my back to him, excited that he’s taken the time to make a big deal out of this date.
He ties the fabric around my eyes, careful not to snag any of my loose curls up in the knot at the back and then helps me into his truck. He hops into the driver’s seat, leaning over to surprise me with a kiss before he starts it up, and then drives away from my home.
I ask questions about where we’re going the entire time he’s driving, trying to pay attention to each turn he’s making in order to help me with my guesses. He laughs at some of my choices when I start naming off fast food restaurants, but never tells me exactly where we’re going.
After at least thirty minutes of driving, with too many turns for me to keep track of where we are, Nixon puts the truck in park and kills the engine.
“Are we here?” I hope, ready to take this damn blindfold off.
“Almost. We’re going to have to ride a four wheeler there, but I want you to keep your blindfold on until we get there. Can you do that for me?” he asks.
I’m a bit bummed that we need to ride a four wheeler out to this date, meaning it isn’t in public, but I have no idea where this date is. It could be something completely out there and I’d have no clue.
I nod and listen to Nixon open and shut his door before coming to my side of the truck and opening the door for me. He has his hands on my hips as he helps me down and then pulls me in front of him to help guide us where we need to go.
I notice that the ground is flat while he walks us to the next part of this date, telling me that we aren’t in the wilderness. Maybe this is one of those restaurants that built themselves into a hillside and you can’t get to it in a vehicle the size of Nixon’s.
He helps me onto the four wheeler and starts it up, careful not to gun it and throw me off. After about five minutes at a slow pace I feel us stop and he turns off the engine, hopping off before me so he can help guide me to the ground.
I can hear and smell a fire crackling, which causes me to smile. I have no clue where we are, but I’m really hopeful that there are other people around us.
“Are you ready to start this date, babe?” he whispers in my ear. I only nod my response, too excited to say anything.
I feel his hands at the back of my head untie the knot of the blindfold. When he removes the fabric I blink a few times and then feel the smile slip off my face.
We’re in my backyard at the reading area I made behind the track. Forget that Nixon started a fire in my backyard and then left it unattended right next to a forest of trees while he drove us in circles for half an hour. He brought us back to my house after telling me he had a big date planned for us.
“What the hell is this Nixon?” I say, trying to keep the anger out of my tone and probably failing.
“This is our date. I brought stuff to make s’mores and some beers for us to drink and then we can test out the sturdiness of your hammock when we fuck in it later,” he smirks and wags his brows at me.
Now I’m pissed.
“Why couldn’t we just go out to a restaurant like normal people? Why do we have to do everything behind closed doors still? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” I grit out, actually a bit afraid of his answer.
“Of course I’m not fucking ashamed to be seen with you, Em. I just don’t want our relationship out in the open yet. I like having you all to myself and I’m not ready to share us with other people.”
I shake my head at his answer. I could see that with certain people, like Charlie, but I feel like Nixon doesn’t want anyone to know about it, ever.
Just then I hear Nixon’s cell phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out and reads his text before pocketing it again and turning his attention back to me. Then it snaps together in my head.
He doesn’t want women to think that he’s taken. He wants to be seen as the slick playboy that everyone knows him as, so he takes me on dates in my own fucking backyard while he gets sexts from every bitch and their dog.
“This is bullshit Nixon. You had no fucking problem telling Brandon that I belonged to you, but we can’t say anything to anyone else because you don’t want to lose your god damned sex symbol status, am I right?” I tilt my head as I wait for his answer.
He looks down at the ground, avoiding my eyes completely, and puts his hands on his hips while he thinks of something clever to say.
The problem is that clever ass remark never comes. Nixon has suddenly become a fucking mute.
Holy crap. I thought that I was being a jealous bitch when I spit out that assumption. Now I don’t know what to think when I find out that I was right.
I release a humorless laugh at his silence and turn around throwing my clutch across my yard like it’s burning my palms.
“You son of a bitch how dare you,” I fume. “You were the one that begged me to be your girlfriend, saying that you were tired of just being my fuck buddy, so I gave in and let you talk me into a relationship. But now that we’re together you want to keep me your dirty little secret, right? If you didn’t want anyone to know about us why the fuck would you ask me to be your girlfriend?”
I cock one of my hips and place my hand on it, giving him some sass while I wait for his answer. He takes a deep breath and finally looks up at me. His eyes look sad and he’s biting the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something stupid, but his silence is pissing me off more than anything he could say to me right now.
He finally takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, before he opens his mouth.
“I thought I was ready for a relationship with you Em, I really did. Then we started up and after seeing Charlie at the store I thought about all the things I’ll have to change now that we’re together. I’ve always been able to bag whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted and I still have women hitting on me everywhere I go. I want us to be together, but the changes that I’ve had to make just to adjust to where we are right now have been really hard on me. I don’t want to screw up and do something to hurt you, but it’s hard not to go back to my natural reactions.”
Nope, him opening his mouth pissed me off a whole lot more than him staying silent did.
“How the hell are you having a hard time with your ‘natural reactions’ to keep your dick in your pants when you’ve only been sleeping with me for months?” I ask, my breath coming out in shallow puffs.
He shifts his eyes to something over my shoulder like there is something more interesting there and I feel my throat close up.
“Please tell me that you were only sleeping with me while we were together Nixon.” I feel my eyes close slowly, hoping he didn’t lie to me.
“I am only sleeping with you. I promise sugar
,” he says, but that stupid word sets me off.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I grit out and his eyes finally come back to me.
He takes a deep breath and keeps talking in a soft voice. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else Emmie, but it was different then. I could flirt with other girls and touch them without having to worry about you getting pissed off. If they hit on me or grabbed my ass it didn’t matter. Now I have to worry about every fucking thing because it could come back to you and piss you off. “
I nod my head at his stupid fucking explanation and decide to let him off the hook. He doesn’t want to commit to this then I won’t either. He wants to keep living that single life and having shit for brains women hit on him when he goes out, then fine by me. I’ll put him out of his misery.
“Well I’ll make this easy for you then so you don’t have to piss me off. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret Nixon. You wanted to take this forward and, like an idiot, I went along with it. We could have just stayed fuck buddies and not had to worry about it, but now I can’t even look at you without wanting to punch you. We’re done in every sense of the word.”
He opens his arms and takes a step toward me, but I throw my hands out in front of me, stopping his movements instantly. If he comes closer I don’t know if I’ll be able to avoid assault charges.
“I want you to put my house key under my front mat on your way off my property. I don’t want you to call me or text me. I’ll be cordial when we’re doing events together, but that’s all you’ll ever get from me again. Good bye Nixon. Make sure that fucking fire is out before you leave,” I grind out, not even hiding the tears that are slipping down my cheeks.
I hear him call my name a few times as I turn and walk my way back to my house, but I don’t acknowledge him. What good would it do for me to turn around and feel my heart break even more than it just did?
It takes me almost ten minutes to jog from the reading area to my front door. As soon as I get in my house I strip out of my dress and grab a beer. It’s a naked drunk Sunday night for me, Otis’ questioning looks be damned.
Down & Dirty Page 18
