by Amy Sparling
“So what do you think?” Jett asks, when I’ve finished telling him everything.
I laugh. “I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me what you think.”
“I’ve already said how I feel about wanting to share high school with you,” he says, but his voice is strained. “Of course, focusing more on motocross and less on spending eight hours a day at school would be amazing.”
“So what do we do?” I ask as my head sinks into my pillow and I stare at the ceiling.
“I don’t know. Let’s just think it over or something. I think we could be strong and face this together. But if school gets worse over time, maybe we should quit and be homeschooled.” His voice turns seductive. “After all, we’d have a lot more time together . . .”
My stomach tingles at the thought of being next to him. “That’s always a good idea.”
“Okay so, we’ll think it over,” he says. “And we’ll just see where this crazy life takes us.”
“Sounds good. I miss you.”
He chuckles, but his voice is quiet. “I miss you more.”
There’s a soft knock on my bedroom door. “Hold on, someone’s at my door,” I say, hoping Becca doesn’t want another long chat right now.
“I’ll just let you go.”
“No! I’m not done talking,” I say, scrambling out of my sheets to go to the door.
“Neither am I,” he says. The door swings open and Jett stands there, cell phone to his ear, cheeky grin on his face.
I hang up my phone and give him a hug. “Becca didn’t complain about you being here so late on a school night?”
He shrugs. “She wasn’t around.”
I lift an eyebrow. He grabs my hips and backs me up until we’re inside my room, then he presses his forehead to mine and closes my door with his foot. “I have a house key, remember?”
“Sneaky,” I say, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. He smells like he’s just showered and his body wash is intoxicating. It’s like a magic spell that pulls me under every time.
“So,” he says, pulling my hips close against his. “Do you still miss me?”
“Mmhmm,” I murmur against his lips.
He kisses me, running his tongue across my bottom lip. “Great, because I’ve got just the remedy.”
Chapter 28
Keanna’s jaw drops as I tell her about Ashley’s latest assault on my poor innocent butt today. We’ve successfully made it another week at school, and even though Keanna and I feel like pariahs sometimes with the way a select group of girls leers at us in the hallways, things are okay for the most part. Except of course, for History class with Ashley Lubbock.
“So she just grabbed it?” Keanna says, taking a bite out of her carrot stick. Recently she’s sworn off fries, because she eats way too much junk food with me.
“Yep,” I say, taking a sip of my orange soda. We’re the first in our group of friends to sit down in the cafeteria today, so we have a few minutes to talk to ourselves. “I was walking by, holding my poster board and she just reached up and grabbed it.”
“Like, the whole butt? Just one cheek?” Keanna asks. Her lips twist like she’s trying to hold back laughter.
“Like . . . one handed, one cheek. A full cheek cup.” I mimic the motion with my hand.
This makes her burst out laughing. “Wow. Just wow. I feel like I should be mad at her, but it’s just too hilarious.”
“You should apologize to my butt,” I say, leaning over so that part of my butt lifts off the seat. “Tell it you’re sorry for laughing at its pain. It was assaulted today, Keanna Park!”
She only laughs harder. D’andre walks up holding a tray with his and Maya’s food. Maya bumps into his back because she’s staring at her phone. “Whoops,” she says, backing up. “Wait, what’s going on here?”
She eyes Keanna and then me. “Is there hilarious gossip that I don’t know about? Spill it!”
Keanna moves her purse off the seat she’d been saving for Maya. Ashley Lubbock grabbed Jett’s precious butt cheek in class today.”
Maya’s hand flies to her mouth. She gasps extra loud and looks appalled, but in this exaggerated making-fun-of-me way.
“You guys are hilarious,” I say. I turn to D’andre who is too busy diving into his cheeseburger to care about what the girls find ridiculously funny. “I think our girlfriends should quit their day jobs and go on the road as comedians.”
He nods. “If all their material is just making fun of you, they’ll probably get rich as hell.”
I roll my eyes and focus back on my food. Keanna leans over and kisses my cheek. “You’re a good sport, baby.”
I give her a silly smile. “You know . . . if you were a good girlfriend, you’d beat up my bully for me,” I say, throwing her a wink.
Keanna shrugs. “Eh, I think Ashley would like that too much. The bigger punishment is to just ignore her and let her wallow in the painful realization that she’s not the center of attention.”
I nod. “Harsh. I like it.”
“So, you two thought more about quitting school?” D’andre asks. I’ve told him all about our possible-maybe-kinda-sorta idea to quit high school and be homeschooled. Of course, I spun it as a way to practice on my bike more and left out the main reason—that Keanna and I are the subject of severe scrutiny from all the girls in my past.
“I think we’re waiting until the Christmas break to decide,” Keanna says. She eats another carrot stick and then crumples up her face and reaches for one of my fries.
“Cool, cool,” he says. “You should stay for senior prom though. “Don’t make me go by myself.”
“Excuse you?” Maya says, slapping him on the arm. “You’ll be with me at prom.”
“I know, baby. I meant I need a guy friend with me, too.”
Maya rolls her eyes and gives Keanna a look. Keanna nods, affirming whatever thing they’re saying in girl language.
The conversation soon turns to the epic racing win I had last weekend. D’andre is both impressed and a little envious of my wins, so he’s been bringing it up every day this week.
It was the State Championships, which are a big deal in the amateur motocross world, and the fact that I won both of the classes I raced in is a pretty big deal. I’m just trying not to let it get to my head. The best part though?
Seeing my beautiful girlfriend cheering me on from the sidelines.
Of course, she had been standing next to my mom, so that took some of the sexiness away, but I loved it anyway. I love how excited Keanna gets when she watches me ride. I love that she practically jumped my bones after I’d thrown her a sign language I love you sign as I flew over the finish line jump.
That little move had been an unplanned last minute decision, but a photographer caught a picture of me doing it, and now all the major Texas motocross websites have a front page article of me and that glorious photo. Dad says it’s going to be epic for my career and that all I need to do is keep bringing in win after win and all of the upcoming races. People don’t really care about kid racers, but once you’re close to being eighteen, people take notice.
In three months, I’ll be seventeen and that will start the countdown until I can go pro. Sponsors and teams will be looking at my racing record and it’ll be very important that I have my shit together. So homeschooling is starting to look better and better every day.
*
After school, Keanna and I head over to The Track, where Keanna has agreed to pick up an extra shift so Becca can go with Mom to get the first baby ultrasound. Mom’s only two months along so she said it’s too early to see if the baby is a boy or girl, but they’ll be able to tell if it’s healthy and all of that other good stuff.
“I want pizza for dinner,” I say. I’m standing behind Keanna at the front desk, rubbing her shoulders. “Is pizza cool?”
“Are you ever not thinking about food?” she says, turning around and poking me in the stomach. Joke’s on her because I tighten my abs and all she gets is a fing
er of pure muscle. She rolls her eyes. I stick out my tongue.
Her silly expression turns into something more adoring. “I love that I can be a dork with you.”
“I love everything about you,” I say, kissing her.
The bells on the front door jingle and we both jump. The mail guy walks in holding a stack of envelopes over his eyes. “Don’t mind me, you lovebirds,” he says, slowly lowering the envelopes and winking. He’s a cool guy, barely older than we are, so I know he doesn’t care that he saw us making out. But it could have been a customer and that would have been bad. I need to keep my insatiable desire to be with Keanna in check, especially when I’m at work.
“Here ya go,” he says, handing over the mail.
Keanna thanks him and he leaves. She flips through the letters casually, and I run my finger down her neck just to mess with her.
“Um, Jett?” she says, handing me an envelope. It’s tan and the paper feels expensive, like someone’s graduation invitation. “I’ve never seen you get mail here before.”
I study the envelope, which has my name written in pen on the front. “That’s because I never have.”
I rip it open and pull out a few papers that look like some kind of registration form. My heart kicks into a higher gear as I skim over the first page. “This can’t possibly be what I think it is . . .” I say, handing the letter to Keanna. “Is it?”
Chapter 29
“I think this is exactly what you think it is.” I know I’m smiling like a lunatic, but I can’t help it. This is huge. This is more than Jett and his family have been wanting for as long as I’ve known him.
Jett pulls out the other barstool and we sit and pour over the papers together. Team Loco Racing, a national professional racing team, just sent Jett a letter from the owner himself. It sings Jett’s praises for a few paragraphs, talking about how skilled Jett was at this past weekend’s races. Then—and this is the cool part—it offers him an internship with Team Loco.
The owner explains that only two racers a year are offered this position, and as an intern he would get to continue racing all of the amateur races throughout next year, but he’d be doing it under the Team Loco name. That means free publicity, free bikes, free gear—big time sponsorship on the amateur circuit. And the best part?
The letter says that after a year of being their intern, he’d be offered a full time sponsorship for professional racing.
Although I haven’t spent my entire life involved in this sport, I realize how big of a deal this is. Not to mention, even I’ve heard of Team Loco—from way before I met Jett. They have TV commercials and branded T-shirts sold at the mall. Team Loco is practically a family name.
“This is so awesome,” I say. My cheeks hurt from how much I’m smiling.
Jett’s expression keeps going from ecstatic to freaking out to looking like he might cry, but in a good way. “Oh my god, oh my god,” he says, gripping the paper in his hands. “I guess all this time I still kind of felt that I might never make it anywhere.” He runs a finger across his eyebrow. “Like . . . I guess I’ve always feared I’d fail and never make it pro. This looks like I might not fail after all.”
“You should give yourself more credit.” I lean over and kiss him. I’m aiming for his cheek, but he turns and catches me on the lips. The sensation sends a shiver down my spine. “Ugh, why are we at work?” I ask.
His eyes narrow seductively and I know without a doubt that he’s thinking the same dirty thoughts I am.
“We should just close up shop and go make out,” he says, his voice low and throaty.
“Our parents are my bosses, so yeah, that’s not happening.” I touch him on the nose to lighten the mood. After all, all I want to do is climb into his lap and rip his clothes off. I need to cool down.
“You know . . . if I take this, I’d probably have to quit school next year.”
“I’d already be out of school so it wouldn’t affect me,” I say with a shrug. “And where you go, I go.”
His eyes light up. “You mean that?”
I make this duh look. “Of course.”
“What about college? And the business classes you were looking at?”
“What about them?” I say with a shrug. “I’d have to take two years of core classes first and most colleges offer that online. It’ll be easy.”
Though I’m not entirely sure what I want to do with my life, I’ve decided to follow in Bayleigh’s footsteps after I spent a few nights talking to her about the future. I think a business degree would be good for me. I can learn how all of the more technical parts of running a business works and maybe one day I can help take over The Track with Jett, or I could start my own thing.
Jett’s hand reaches up and touches my cheek. His dark blue eyes gaze into mine. “You are the best girlfriend ever.”
“And you’re the best boyfriend ever, so I guess that works out.”
Jett grins, his calloused fingers sliding over my skin. “We’re also mega dorks.”
“Yep,” I say. “What’s your point?”
*
Later, after both sets of our parents have officially freaked out and congratulated Jett on his internship offer, we find a way to sneak out of the dining room. Jace and Bayleigh and my parents are slowly getting drunk on red wine, laughing and talking about the future. Jett’s future, my future, and the new baby’s future. Basically every future ever.
I pull Jett’s shirt and drag him down the hallway to my bedroom, where I close and lock the door behind us.
His lips are on mine without me needing to say a word. Soon we’re wrapped up in each other’s arms, our legs intertwined, our bodies pressing as close as we can get. My sheets are as rumpled as Jett’s hair. My heart thunders in my chest, rushing blood to all the sensitive places he touches.
“I love the hell out of you,” I say, covering his mouth with mine.
His strong arms grab me and flip me over, and then he’s on top of me, his eyes feral and full of lust. He licks his lips and I ache to have his tongue on me. I slide his shirt up and over his head, then toss it to the floor. His chest is warm and hard against mine, his kisses passionate and eager.
“You better,” he growls. I’ve almost forgotten that I just told him I love him, so it takes me a second to figure out what he’s saying.
“Oh yeah?” I say, teasing him by running my finger down his chest. “Why is that?”
His grin is so sexy it makes my entire body warm. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
***
Thank you for reading Believe in Us! If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
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Coming soon!
Book 3 in Jett’s Series
BELIEVE IN FOREVER
Release Date: May 15th, 2016
About the Author
Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, The Devin and Tobey Series, Deadbeat & other awesome books for younger teens. She also writes books for older teens under the pen name Cheyanne Young. She lives in Houston, Texas with her family and a super spoiled rotten puppy.
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