I slammed the door on logic and was ready to jump off the cliff. Either I’d fall or fly.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I drove the long, winding road to the Harris’s house. My determination had turned into full-blown nerves, but my foot and hands still kept on the set path. I rolled the jeep up the curved driveway to the glamorous house on the hill. The lights on the path and trimming the house were on, but the house inside was completely dark.
Shit. I didn’t even consider he might not be here. Now it seemed stupid. He hardly ever stayed at the house if he could help it. Probably at Jones’s or Doug’s. Or Krista’s, my mind sang cruelly at me. My brain was telling me to go, relieved no one was here to witness my lapse in judgment, but I hit the brakes.
You’re simply coming to say thank you. That’s it. Then you can go back home and snuggle in the safety of the couch. Watch a movie with Grandma Penny and Reece. All the reasoning in the world didn’t hold back the truth of why I was really here.
I turned the car off and slid out the door. Halfway up the walkway nerves flooded my lungs with debilitating fear.
Go, before anyone sees you. I turned, heading back down the path.
Shit, Jaymerson. You’re letting fear rule you again. You’re not doing anything wrong. I changed directions again, setting my shoulders with stronger determination.
Go ahead lie to yourself. But we all know you are not here to simply thank him. All day he was the only thing you could think about. He’ll be able to see through you. I stopped, twisting back for the car again.
Stop being a weenie.
“Jaymerson?” Hunter’s voice came out of the dark.
A sharp squeak vaulted from my throat, and I covered my mouth.
“What are you doing?” He leaned against his truck, arms and ankles crossed as if he had been there for a while. The garage door was open, but no light was on, blending him in with the night.
“You scared me.” I dropped my hands, trying to catch my breath.
“Well, your little dance at my front door was starting to frighten me.” He uncrossed his ankles and dropped his arms. “Out of curiosity, I almost let you continue with your internal debate but thought I might be here all night.”
I folded my arms, embarrassment coating me in a sticky sweat.
“Tell me.” He pushed off the car, standing tall. “Which decision would have won in the end?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t tell me you weren’t deliberating between knocking on the door and running like hell before anyone saw you.”
I licked my bottom lip and stared off to the side, not answering.
“What are you doing here, Jayme?” A thin shade of annoyance braided his tone. He moved closer but still kept his distance.
“I came…I came to say thank you.”
“For what?”
Damn him. He always did this to me. Made me voice it.
“The necklace.” My hand automatically went up to touch it. “I love it. Thank you.” His blue eyes grew intense, and I shifted nervously under his gaze. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
“I know things,” he said evenly. I crossed my arms, lifting an eyebrow. “You dated my brother.”
“Yeah.” I tilted my head. “Funny, because Colton never remembered when it was. He thought my birthday was in July.”
“I have a good memory.” Hunter shrugged.
“Well, thank you. Seriously. It’s beautiful.” I touched the charm again.
A hush sprouted between us. Normally it was natural, but tonight it was uneasy. He looked away, clearing his throat. “You doing anything?”
“No. Just playing with my new toy.” I motioned to my jeep.
“Nice.” He scanned the vehicle, walking over to it. “Always wanted a Wrangler, but logistically I couldn’t.”
“Why?” I followed him back over to the jeep.
“Can’t cart or hold things in it,” he responded aloofly, running his hand over the hood. “You’re not going out with your friends?”
“Friends? Like who?” I laughed. “Don’t actually have those anymore.”
“Stevie?”
“She had to go to her cousin’s wedding.”
He nodded, staring over my shoulder. His eyebrows scrunched together.
Oh jeez, you made him uncomfortable. Nice job. Especially when we were getting along so well. I didn’t want him to think I was fishing, or I was following him like a lost puppy or something.
“Well, I only wanted to stop by and say th—”
“You’re coming with me.” He cut me off, his expression relaxed but set with determination.
“Go with you where?”
“I have something to do tonight, and I want you to come.” He glanced back at his truck.
I followed his gaze. It was then I noticed a canvas over the bed of the truck, cords and rope tying down a large object underneath. “What?”
He waggled his head, mischief filled his eyes. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“What are we doing?”
“Not telling you.” Hunter veered the truck off the freeway, turning toward the fairgrounds near the college. My grandparent’s house was barely ten minutes away on the other side of town. Compared to my pintsize village, this town felt like a city.
‘Event Parking’ signs dotted the road. Traffic grew thick and clogged the closer we got. “Concert? Horse races?” I mulled over ideas. The fair was in the summer, and I had long grown out of finding it fun.
He only grinned, enjoying my uncertainty. A huge poster hung over the entrance, but he turned the car before I could get a good look at it. He drove up to a guy monitoring a parking lot. The teenage boy, a few years younger than us, sauntered up to the car. Skinny, tall, with a mop of brown curls.
“This is the competitor’s par—hey, man. Good to see you.” He grasped for Hunter’s hand.
“Yeah, thanks,” Hunter replied, gripping it back.
“I’m glad you’re back. Show those toshers true talent.” The boy was trying not to gush, but his excitement at seeing Hunter was tangible. Not the usual response, and it piqued my curiosity.
“I need to unload.” Hunter pointed to the back.
“Oh, yeah. Unloading area is there.” The kid pointed to a ramp, a black curtain draped over the large gap allowing people to walk in and out. Someone came through, but blazing light reflected off the window, keeping me from seeing what was going on inside. It was like he coordinated it so I couldn’t figure it out. “Then you can park in the front. I’m telling all your rivals they have to park way out here.” He smirked, pleased with himself.
“Thanks, man.”
“Gonna try and sneak away to watch you. You are the favored leader. I know you got this,” the boy said as Hunter hit the gas, moving deeper into the parking lot.
“Wow, Hunter Harris has a fan boy.” I winked over at the driver.
“Shut up.” He shook his head, but a grin hinted at his mouth. He rolled the car to the front by the main events building. That’s when I saw the giant banner over the doorway.
AMA Supercross Finals. With an image of a guy on a motorbike soaring in the air.
“Supercross?” I stared at the picture in amazement. “You compete?”
Hunter pulled into a front spot. “Yeah. Not bad, either. Something I got into a few years ago.”
“Seriously? How come I didn’t know this about you? How come no one does?” Colton never even hinted his brother was involved in motocross.
He shrugged and unlatched his seatbelt. “I don’t like people knowing my business. Let them think what they want.”
I was envious of the security he had in himself—to not care what people thought, and not defend himself when he knew they were wrong. Everything I thought about Hunter turned to be incorrect. He was nothing like the pot-smoking loser I chalked him up to be.
“Come on. I’m putting you to work.” He slipped out of the truck.
“Work? On my birthday
?” I teased.
“Oh, yeah. You are not getting a free ride here.” He untied the rope on his side, flinging it over to me. “You are going to be my assistant.”
I grabbed the rope and unhooked it. He grasped the tarp and pulled it back. I followed, mimicking his actions as he tugged the cover off.
“Wow.” I stared at the bike. It was black with electric-blue stripes down the front and back. It was well used but spotless. The paint reflected the streetlight and gave it a shimmer.
Hunter lowered the tailgate and jumped into the bed of the truck. “This is my baby.” He ran his fingers up the handlebars, his expression besotted.
“It doesn’t have a name or anything?”
His eyes lidded as if I insulted him.
“Do you have a moniker?” I walked around to the back. He stayed quiet as he backed the bike out of the truck. “You do, don’t you?” I grabbed the back wheel, lowering it to the ground as he jumped down, taking the bike back. We stood on either side of it, our gazes finding each other. “Not going to tell me?” I tried to tease, but it came out croaky.
He leaned over and inched close to my face, his breath tickling my lips. Air halted in my lungs. Hunter tilted his head, looking like he was about to kiss me. “You’re going to have to find out for yourself.” His voice sounded low and gravelly. He pulled back, flipped up the tailgate, and strolled with the bike to the entrance.
My heart slammed against my chest, and I inhaled through my nose. I did not like how easily he could twist me into a knot. I shouldn’t have these feelings. He was a friend. That was all.
Say it again, Jaymerson. Maybe this time you’ll believe it.
“Wow, I think you underestimate your ability.” I scanned the enormous arena set in the rodeo/concert stadium. The seats surrounded the event and looked down on the middle, which contained mountains of dirt with a track running through. Hundreds if not a thousand onlookers were already filling in the seats. Wails of motorbikes and rock music blasted through the space, upping the energy in the building.
It was overwhelming but also exhilarating. Excitement pumped in the area, bouncing off me, making my feet bob up and down.
“Hunter Harris.” A black-haired beauty strolled over and looked him up and down, saying his name salaciously. “Was wondering where you were. Good to see you back.”
Air caught in my throat. She was stunning, but her face was so thick with makeup I felt claustrophobic for her skin. She was dressed in a black spandex crop top, pushing her boobs into everyone’s face and displaying her flat, ripped abdomen. A sports drink company logo was stenciled across the front of the shirt. A slip of a black-and-white plaid skirt covered her bottom. Well, covered was a bit of a fabrication.
I peered down at my dark jeans, brown boots, and V-neck T-shirt. They were cute enough when I left but now seemed boring.
“It’s good to be back.” He smiled at the girl.
How can I compare with someone like her? The thought popped into my head, then I quickly shoved it out. Why do you need to compete with her, Jaymerson? He can be with anyone he wants.
“Hey, you all right?” Hunter grabbed my wrist, pulling me up to the table with him.
“Yeah. Fine.” Lie.
The girl’s gaze scoured me, but she kept a smile on her face.
“You’re scowling.” Hunter squeezed my arm and turned back around to face the girl. “Can I get an extra sideline pass?”
Her lips twitched, but the plastered grin didn’t budge. “Of course.” She handed Hunter some promo items, a tag with the number eight on it, along with a pass. He grabbed it and slipped it over my neck, his knuckles brushed my ribs as he brought it down.
“Looks good on you,” Hunter murmured, tilting in close to me. “Never thought you’d be at one of my races.”
“Never knew there were races to be at.”
“You might want to get going. Most are already at the start.” The girl’s voice cut through the small space between us.
Hunter stepped back and nodded. He rolled the bike past the table, with me tailing behind. My brain couldn’t take in all the sights and sounds as we moved closer to the track.
“Let me know if it gets too loud for you,” Hunter said over his shoulder. “I have earplugs if you need them.”
I nodded, taking everything in. Supercross had not been in my realm. I would never have associated with this crowd, which made it even more thrilling to be here now.
We turned the corner, and the large track lay out in front of me. The smell of damp dirt, motor oil, and fumes penetrated the air. A banner hung from the ceiling and showed large images of riders and their bikes.
“Holy shit.” I stopped short. One banner displayed an image of Hunter covered with dirt and mud, wearing blue-and-black riding gear, holding up a trophy. His face bore a smile I had never seen on his face. Utter joy sparked his expression.
“That’s you.”
Hunter looked up and nodded. “It was a couple of months before the accident.”
I was about to ask him more, but he slipped in the swarming crowd mulling around. I jogged forward, trying to keep up.
“It’s The Haze!” A guy passing by patted him on the back.
The deeper we went, the more people responded to him, calling him “The Haze.” Tons of girls similar to the registration girl circled him, waving and smiling. He gave the same little head nod to them all.
“Cuttin’ it close, aren’t you?” A tall, brown-haired guy stepped from the horde, dressed in a biking outfit, taking Hunter’s hand. “Oh, and you brought your good luck charm I see.”
I knew that accent. “Chris!” I grinned seeing the familiar face. “You compete too?”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He swung his arm around my shoulders, drawing me in for a quick squeeze before letting me go. “I do, but I’m nowhere near the level of your boy here.”
Both Hunter and I shifted at the last bit.
Someone yelled Chris’s name, and he waved. “Got to go, man; see you out there.” Chris and Hunter exchanged the guy handshake-pat-on-the-back thing. Chris grabbed my shoulder as he passed. “Next time, bring your girl with you.”
“Call her and ask her yourself. She’d love it here.”
“I might do that.” A secretive smile drew up his lips, then he whirled around, getting lost in the swarm.
“I never thought I’d see the day.” Hunter stared off at Chris in astonishment before twisting back and walking the opposite way.
We only walked a few yards when I heard a girl call for Hunter.
“Hunter!” His friend Megan jogged up to him. She wore her usual army green jacket and black ripped jeans, but had switched the black shirt for a white shirt and black combat boots for red.
“Hey, Megan,” Hunter greeted her. “Did Jones remember to bring my stuff?”
“Yeah, he’s over by the start gate.” Megan pointed, but her attention went to me. Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “You brought her?” Her pierced eyebrow lifted.
Hunter tilted his head, warning her.
“Okay. Your funeral.” She wagged her head in disbelief, her curly black hair brushing over her shoulders. “We’re over here.”
Megan led the way. Hunter, his bike, and I followed. When we reached the starting gate, a man with a headset ran over, conversed with Hunter, and motioned to the starting place.
Commotion was blurry around me, so many things at once, people needing Hunter, wanting to talk with him. I stood to the side.
“Hey.” Megan motioned me over. “This way.”
We went closer to the stands where Jones stood. Doug had a tall, thin blonde girl I didn’t know standing beside him. None of them could hide their surprise at seeing me.
“Jaymerson.” Jones nodded at me.
“Hey,” I said to the group. They stared at me, and I felt like the gawky, uncool kid.
The blonde at the end glowered at me, then spun around and stormed away.
“Uh-oh. Knew this was gonna hap
pen.” Megan sighed, following the blonde. “Krista, wait.”
Krista. That was her? She ran off before I got a good look at her, but she reminded me a bit of Sunny. Was she Hunter’s type? Tall, blonde, pretty, but with a hard edge. Definitely not prudish or naïve.
Jones immediately sidled over to me. Like Megan, he didn’t stray too far from his usual logo T-shirt, jeans, and black chucks, with his ever-present flat-brimmed hat on his head. “Hunter brought you?”
“No.” I turned serious. “I work here. Oh, you probably don’t recognize me out of my sports drink promo outfit.” I pointed at one of the scarcely dressed girls passing by. “They fired me because it actually covered my ass.”
Jones chuckled. “I’d pay money to see that.”
“Me too.” Doug held up his beer, toasting me. I was not surprised to see his staple of worn jeans, black T-shirt with some phrase on it, and a hat on backward. He peered at me like he was trying to place me, even though he had met me several times now. “You were Colton’s girl, right?”
The mood shifted. My face flushed hot, fuming like a volcano as the inside froze over, solidifying in painful shards.
“Dude…” Jones hand went to his face. “Dougie, man, you need to filter that shit.”
“What? She was, right?” He looked back and forth between Jones and me with confusion, not recognizing the blunder he stepped in.
“Doug, you’ve talked to her a dozen times. Driven her home,” Jones exclaimed, holding out his arms.
Doug blinked, looking at me then at Jones. “Huh.” He grinned with a shrug, taking a sip of beer.
He definitely wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he had such a laidback, happy personality it was easy to let anything stupid he said slide. It didn’t seem intentional or ill intended.
Jones waggled his head back and forth. “Ignore him.” There was something about Jones I really liked.
“Hey.” Hunter came through the crowd toward us. He stood so close the heat from his body crawled down my arm. “You have my stuff?”
“Your gear is all here, man.” Jones picked up a large duffel bag. “Boots too.”
Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1) Page 24
