Believe in Spring (Jett Series Book 8)

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Believe in Spring (Jett Series Book 8) Page 2

by Amy Sparling


  After leaving our stuff in our hotel room, we meet up with Zach and the other two guys on Team Loco, Clay and Aiden. I usually feel like the odd one out when I’m with the guys, but it’s been long enough now that I feel included. They don’t rag on Jett for bringing his girlfriend, and they’re all very nice to me so it works. Still, I think it’d be better if one of the other guys got a girlfriend so I’d have someone to hang out with while they do their thing. I don’t really see that happening, though. Zach is a player who hooks up more than he dates girls, Clay only cares about dirt bikes so it’s like women aren’t even on his radar, and Zach cares more about earning money to help his family back home than meeting girls. But maybe one day it’ll happen.

  We head over to the stadium next door so the guys can get checked in for tomorrow’s races. Since I’m Jett’s VIP guest, I get a blue wristband that lets me into the races for free, and it also lets me into the special areas that spectators can’t get into, like the starting line and the pits. I’m feeling a little more than special as I wrap the bracelet around my wrist.

  I love the smell of arenacross tracks. It’s a little weird, probably, but the exhaust mixed with fresh dirt has started to remind me of home. Dirt bikes are Jett’s thing, and he is my home. The Track, the business my parents and Jett’s parents own, is also home and that place is 99% dirt. So maybe it’s not the smell of dirt that I’m attracted to, but the feelings that come with it. For the first time in my life I have a home. I am wanted, and I am loved.

  I couldn’t say so much about the first seventeen years of my existence. I was raised by a selfish woman who could never hold down a job or keep an apartment. Her relationships were crap and her idea of love was trying to get me to sleep with some creeper old guy in exchange for money. Those days of my life seem to long ago now that I’ve moved on and joined another, much better family. I used to have nightmares about it, about her. But now my life is happy and my dreams are mostly good.

  The guys get into the empty arena and one of the employees lets us walk the track. It’s not the same as riding it, but seeing the layout lets the guys get a good vibe for how it’ll be to race on it tomorrow.

  I hold Jett’s hand while we walk around on the dirt, and I stay mostly quiet while he and the guys talk nonstop. It’s all dirt bike talk, which is mostly lost on me.

  Eventually, we leave and walk back to our hotel, which only half a block away. The parking lot is filled with other racers and people who will set up vendor booths at the races tomorrow. Jett and the other guys say hello to a ton of people as we walk past them. I notice a few girls watching me, their eyes trailing from my face to my hand, which is still clasped in Jett’s. I try not to let it make me feel awkward. After all, I’d be jealous if I were in their shoes. Everyone loves Jett Adams, but he only loves me.

  Since it’s nearly dinner time, the guys want to try out this steakhouse that’s right across the road. Once we’re there, I excuse myself to go pee and wash my hands. The restaurant is huge, so once I walk out of the bathroom, I can’t remember which way I took to get here.

  I stand near a large potted plant and casually look around the tables, hoping to spot Jett before too long so I don’t look like an idiot.

  “That is definitely Jett,” I hear someone say.

  I look to my right and see two girls, about my age, sitting at the bar. They’re turned around and staring toward the left. I follow their gaze and see my boyfriend sitting with Clay, Zach, and Aiden, and let out a sigh of relief. Two of Jett’s fans saved me from getting lost. Go figure.

  “…so fucking hot,” I hear one of the girls say.

  “They’re all hot,” the other one says back.

  Curiosity takes over and I stay here behind this tree a little longer, just to hear what they’re saying.

  “Yeah, but Jett is hotter. He looks just like his dad.”

  “You should go talk to him instead of sitting here lusting after him,” her friend says.

  The girl wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe I will … I don’t see that slut girlfriend of his. Looks like he’s free for the taking.”

  A knot of anger twists in my stomach. Just because Jett has a girlfriend doesn’t mean she’s a slut. It doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Why are girls so freaking mean to each other?

  “Ugh, I forgot about that hoe,” the friend says, curling her lip in disgust. “Are they still a thing? They can’t possibly still be together. She looks like backwoods trailer trash.”

  “Last time I checked, they were,” the first girl says.

  Hot tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I blink them away. Maybe it’s because her comment hit too close to home, but I’m totally pissed off right now. I was born and raised as white trash. So what? That’s not who I am anymore. And Jett shouldn’t be insulted for who he’s dating.

  I step away from the potted plant and walk right up them. Their eyes widen when they see me, and I make a big deal of looking at what the first girl is wearing. A low-cut tank top and short shorts with fishnet stockings underneath them. Her makeup looks like a kid put it on, trying their hardest to be sexy.

  “Take a look at the two of us,” I say, standing tall and holding my head high. “Which one of us seems more like a slut? Because it’s not me.”

  Her mouth hangs open like the idiot she is, and with a satisfied smile, I turn and walk toward my boyfriend.

  Chapter 4

  Jett

  I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The races start in half an hour, and I’m pumped, mentally and physically. I’ve officially been racing dirt bikes for most of my life and yet the adrenaline never goes away. It’s always there, ready to take over the moment the gate drops and I speed off, competing with twenty four other racers for that coveted first place trophy.

  Lucky for me, arenacross is a little easier than professional supercross. Not technically, since the track is still a beast to navigate, but the rest of the racers are a step below me in talent. Only a few of them have large sponsorships like me and the guys from Team Loco, so I have a feeling the top three places will be dominated by our blue and black jerseys. We’ll make our manager proud.

  Keanna watches me get ready. I gave her my VIP pass so she’s allowed down here in the pits with me while all the other spectators have to stay up in the stadium seats. I buckle up my boots, throw on my jersey, fasten my neck brace, and then look around for my helmet.

  “Right here,” she says, holding out my helmet.

  “Thank you babe.” I take it and lean over and kiss her.

  “Not fair,” Clay calls out from a few feet over where he’s also getting dressed. “It’s one thing to bring your girlfriend here, but another to rub it in our faces how happy you are.”

  “Dude, no one’s stopping you from getting your own girlfriend.”

  He snorts as he pulls the Velcro tight on his gloves. “Eyes on the prize, Adams. I don’t have time for girls when I’m too busy trying to beat you.”

  Keanna watches him with this curious look on her face, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s trying to think of someone to set him up with. I know it bothers her that she’s the only girlfriend on the team and often feels left out when I bring her to places like this.

  I slip on my helmet and poke her in the side. She’s wearing black workout leggings and a blue Team Logo T-shirt and she looks so damn sexy in those tight ass pants. I feel like a pig and a caveman when she’s all sexy like that because I know it makes all the other guys jealous, and I don’t care. I love it, actually. I’ve got the hot girl and they’ve got nothing but jealousy.

  I poke her ribs again and she squirms. “That tickles.”

  “Meet me at the finish line?”

  She smiles. “You better be the first one across it.”

  Aiden jogs up and smacks the back of my helmet. “Ready? I’m about to line up.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. I crank up my bike and let it idle for a minute, and then I turn back to my beautiful girlf
riend.

  “Twenty laps,” I say, taking her face in my hands.

  “So longggg,” she says with a groan.

  “It’ll be over before you know it.”

  “And then boring San Antonio, and then onto awesome Vegas!” Her smile reaches her eyes when she mentions Vegas, and once again I’m feeling like that’ll be the perfect time to do it.

  “Only a few days away,” I say.

  She reaches up and kisses the front of my helmet. “Good luck.”

  “Love you,” I say.

  “Love you more,” she says back.

  Keanna waits with the other VIPs, who are mostly older mechanics, managers, and parents, and waves to me as I set up my bike on the starting line. The starting line is a long stretch, and you draw a number to see which spot you’ll get. I drew a shitty number so I’m right smack in the middle of the line instead of on the edge like I’d prefer. In the middle, you have to make sure to be the fastest at the drop or you’ll get stuck behind other people, and possibly end up in a pile up of bikes at the first turn. Not that I can’t pull away from something like that and regain first place during the twenty laps, but it’s a lot more annoying.

  Soon the air fills with the roar of two dozen dirt bikes, and I steady my attention to the starting gate. It drops, and I pin the throttle, my focus solely on the race now.

  With luck and talent, I manage to get the holeshot so I’m out in front of everyone. Now I just need to keep it for the next twenty laps.

  Which is exactly what I do. I’m not trying to be some egotistical prick, but when Keanna is here watching me, I have way more drive to race hard and fast. Sometimes when I’m travelling with Team Loco, I can feel myself getting lazy after the tenth lap, but this time I don’t stop. I ride hard and I keep the throttle pinned, and before long the checkered flag whips out, signaling that I’ve won the race. I turn the bike sideways as I soar over the finish line jump, and then my heart beats faster knowing that I’m about to see her again. It’s so much more fun having my girl with me at these things. I can’t wait until this semester is over and she can spend the rest of summer with me traveling and racing. Hopefully she wants that, too.

  Sweat pours off me as I slow down and ride to my slot in the pits, which is right between the other Team Loco guys. Clay is right on my tail, so he was probably second place. I see Aiden and Zach a few seconds later. I park my bike on the stand and rip off my helmet, then grab a bottle of water from a nearby ice chest. I glance around and see her walking quickly toward me.

  “You were amazing,” she says, her eyes sparkling under the bright stadium lights. “I always love watching you race.”

  I bend down and kiss her lightly so that my sweat-drenched body doesn’t touch her.

  Zach comes by and shakes my hand. “Dude, good race.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Showers and then dinner?” Aiden says as he rubs a towel over his sweating head. “Shower separately, and then eat together, is what I meant just in case you pervs thought otherwise.”

  Clay snorts. “I’m down. I’m starving.”

  Keanna shifts on her feet and even though she’s smiling, I get the feeling she feels a little out of place with the guys.

  “I think we’re gonna head back to the hotel,” I say, giving her a quick wink when she looks up at me. “You guys go on.”

  “Look at him,” Aiden says sarcastically. “Always rubbing it in with the girlfriend.”

  I flip him off and he laughs. “See ya’ll in San A?”

  “Yeah, man. See you tomorrow.”

  After packing up my bike and all my gear, we head back to the hotel. I head straight to the bathroom to rip off my sweaty riding gear, and Keanna calls my name.

  “What’s up?” I call back.

  “Your phone is ringing. It’s Zach.”

  “Let it ring,” I call back.

  When I get out of the shower, Keanna is sitting on the hotel’s desk chair, her face tight with worry.

  “What is it?”

  “Your phone has been ringing like nonstop. All of the guys have called you like twice each, and I wanted to answer it because I thought maybe it’s an emergency but I didn’t want to go through your stuff…”

  “Babe,” I say, holding the towel around my waist as I lean over and kiss her. “My stuff is your stuff. I hope the guys are okay.”

  I grab my phone off the nightstand and unlock the screen. I have a dozen missed calls and a few text messages.

  “What is it?” Keanna asks.

  I click on the first message. Shit.

  “Well?” Keanna says, her voice growing impatient.

  “Uh…” I don’t know what to say. I am temporarily out of words. I turn off my phone and toss it on the bed. “It’s um, nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she says, standing up. “Why do you look like that?”

  I bite my lip. “It’s … well, it’s about you.”

  Chapter 5

  Keanna

  “Don’t worry, none of us believe any of that shit,” Jett says, as he reads a text from one of the guys. Their words mean nothing to me. I am already worried and I haven’t seen what’s going on yet.

  “Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Jett turns to me, his eyes slowly meeting mine. “It’s nothing, babe. Someone just decided to talk trash about you online.”

  I groan. “What is it this time?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  I hold out my hand. “I want to see it.”

  With a pained frown, Jett hands me his phone. Someone has sent him a link to a Twitter post. I click it, and the Twitter app opens to a very long thread. I see my name, and my heart pounds as I scroll up to the start of the long post that’s bashing me.

  And then I start reading, and my entire life flashes before my eyes. Not the good life I have now, with family and a little brother and a great boyfriend. My old life. The life that almost broke me.

  We were in Phoenix. My biological mom, Dawn, and me. It was the longest we’d lived in one place in a long time, and I was starting to feel settled down in my school. It was freshman year. I had a couple of friends who would sit with me at lunch. One day they invited me over for a party, and I was eager to go. I’d worn my best jeans and shirt, which wasn’t saying much, and stole some of my mom’s makeup in an attempt to look prettier. Then I walked the fifteen blocks to the girl’s house. I remember her name was Mindy, and she was really popular despite living in a run down trailer. Where I came from, all the popular people were rich, but not in this case. Mindy was pretty and outgoing and a lot of fun. Later, I’d realize that her popularity stemmed from the fact that she’d sleep with any guy who wanted it, but at the time I had no idea. I was just happy to be included. I was out at a party with lots of people, drinking free beer, and trying to enjoy myself, and it was a lot better than sitting at home where we didn’t have a TV or internet or anything fun.

  Mindy bumped into me with her shoulder. “I see you staring at him,” she’d said, making flirty eyes at me.

  I probably turned beet red as I shook my head and said I wasn’t staring at anyone. But she knew I was lying. “His name is JJ,” she said, nudging me with her cup of beer. “Go say hi.”

  I did. I don’t know why, but I did.

  JJ was tall, older, and cute in this rugged bad boy way. I’d only been watching him because he was sitting alone on a couch and looked just as bored as I was. But with Mindy’s encouragement, I walked right up to him and sat down on the other side of the couch.

  “Hello,” I said meekly when he looked at me.

  “Yo,” he said back.

  And that was that, for about ten minutes. Then Mindy sauntered over and sat herself between us, throwing an arm around both of our shoulders. “JJ, this is Keanna. She has a crush on you,” she’d said entirely too loudly. I wanted to drop dead of mortification, but JJ just looked at me like he’d suddenly seen me in a new light. “Cool,” he said with a n
od and a sly grin in my direction.

  “My work here is done,” Mindy said, just before hopping up and disappearing into the crowd.

  “So how do you know Mindy?” JJ asked me.

  “We go to school together,” I said.

  He slid a little closer and kept up the conversation. We talked for a few minutes about nothing in particular, and my heart was pounding a mile a minute.

  “You want to find somewhere more quiet to talk?” he said.

  And I remember it very clearly because he said to talk. Not anything else. Talk. I was a total idiot back then and assumed that what he said was what he’d meant. I said yes. He stood up and took my hand and I was so excited that I guy was holding my hand that I let him lead me down the hallway and into a tiny bedroom at the end of the house. He closed the door behind us and then twisted the lock, securing us from the outside world. My stomach flipped.

  Then his arms were all over me, pawing at me like some rabid beast. His tongue was hot and tasted gross as it shoved in my mouth. I froze for a second, not knowing what to do. I’ll admit, part of me kind of wanted to make out a little, just to know what it was like. He was cute, after all, and he clearly liked me. But then he got too handsy, and he reeked of alcohol, and I panicked.

  “I want to take things slow!” I said, my words rushed and panicked and stupidly shaking from my fear.

  He jumped back as if I’d electrocuted him. Then he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Baby girl, I don’t take things slow. I think you got the wrong idea here.”

  “What do you mean?” I stuttered out.

  He laughed, a cruel sound that made me feel very small. “I don’t want to date you. You’re Mindy’s friend, which means you’re just good for a hookup.”

  Those words stayed with me for months. Even after Dawn uprooted us again and we moved to anther town, I still thought about it all the time. I wasn’t the kind of girl worthy of a relationship. I was just a hookup. A loser. Not girlfriend material.

 

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