Ride: A Driven World Novel

by Heather Guimond

  “It’s been crazy. I’ve had nothing but problems. Trouble with the bikes, problems with my management team, you name it. I also ramped up my training. Your brother is following too hot on my heels.” He placed a swift kiss on my lips before setting me back down.

  “I’ve noticed. Has he backed off at all?”

  “Well, he hasn’t tried to knock me off my bike or run me off the track the last three races, but then, I’ve made sure to stay ahead of him. The training is paying off.” He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me back into his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t call this week.”

  “You did send me that one text message with the baby monkey gif.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. I promise to do a better job. I am here with an ulterior motive, however,” he teased me as he rubbed his nose against mine.

  “Oh, really?” My voice was soft and husky as I anticipated his reply.

  “Mhmm. I have to attend a gala next weekend for the company that owns the group home I was in. I need a date. Would you come with me? I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “This wouldn’t happen to be the bachelor auction all the guys are talking about? Matt got invited to participate.”

  “Yeah. I put out the call to all the guys to help, even your brother. So, what do you say?”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to attend a function where my date will be sold to the highest bidder? Do you not see where I might find that uniquely unappealing?”

  “I just might be able to rig it, so you’re the winner if you bid on me.”

  “Finn Hawkins, are you suggesting we cheat? I thought you were a reformed bad boy!”

  “Only mostly. All’s fair in love,” he quipped, before blanching and stuttering softly. “I mean that in the vaguest sense of the word.”

  The warmth that bloomed in my chest at his gaff took me by surprise. I knew I was head over heels for Finn, but the not-so-subtle reference that he might feel the same was enough to send me to the moon and back. Of course, it was still just a little too soon to have it all out there in the open, so I did my best Paula Abdul impression and danced right around that giant elephant he left standing in the room.

  “Of course.” I swooped back in for one more kiss, tossing caution to the wind yet again. “I’d love to be your date.”

  Finn’s eyes lit up, making my heart flip in my chest. Goddamn, he was heartbreakingly handsome. I heard voices nearing our tent, so I took a quick step back just as Matt and a bevy of motohos walked in.

  “Hawkins.” Matt grimaced as he strode toward us, slapping his leather gloves against his palm. “Why do I find you in here yet again? Are you conceding defeat ahead of the race?”

  Finn snorted, then shocked me by holding out his hand. I was further astonished when Matt took it and pumped it twice.

  “Good luck, brother,” Finn nodded good-naturedly.

  “I’m not your brother,” Matt bit out, a twist of his lips punctuating his words.

  “Not yet,” Finn tossed over his shoulder as he turned to me to give me a peck. “I’ll find you after the ra

  What the hell did he mean by that?” Matt demanded, following me as I brushed past him to finish working on his bike.

  “He was just winding you up, Matt. He hasn’t proposed or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Promise me you won’t be that stupid.”

  “Just let me finish your bike before you get disqualified.” I placed my palm flat against his chest and gently shoved him out of my way, then quickly knelt, retrieving my wrench from the pocket I’d put it in.

  Within ten minutes, Matt was donning his helmet and walk-riding the bike out onto the concourse. It was an hour to the main event, so everyone was lining up for the pre-race introductions. I was cleaning my hands with some heavy-duty cleaning wipes when I heard footsteps in the tent again. It was the familiar sound of riding boots against cement, so I turned, expecting to see a devilish looking Finn grinning at me in that lopsided way of his. My stomach sank to my shoes as Dalton Simmons marched up to me.

  “You got the rest of my money, bitch?” he sneered, his beady brown eyes looking me up and down in a way that left me feeling even dirtier than my worst grease monkey days.

  “Didn’t Matt pay you?” I stuttered, feigning ignorance. I knew Dalton had accepted the twenty thousand my brother offered him, but Matt didn’t want me involved. That seemed as if it was coming back to bite us in the ass.

  “You still owe me ten thousand. I appreciate your brother’s gift, but you’re going to pay me the balance, either in cash or in trade,” he said gruffly as he reached up, fisting his hand in the hair at the nape of my neck.

  “You... you accepted Matt’s deal.”

  “I took his money. I didn’t say I didn’t want the rest.” He moved in close, pawing at my chest before winding his arms around me and holding me tight. I began to retch when he licked the side of my face, the sour smell of his hot breath wafting under my nose, making me empty the contents of my stomach all over the front of his leathers.

  “Motherfucker!” Dalt shouted as he jumped away from me a second too late. “I don’t have time to change! You just got me disqualified.”

  “You got yourself disqualified when you decided to blackmail me. Keep it up, and I’ll report you to the authorities. You can kiss your entire career goodbye, not just one race.”

  “You’re going to pay for this, Kenni.” With a disgusted huff and shake of his hands, he strode out of the tent. I took a deep, cleansing breath—at least as cleansing as it could get near a dirty racetrack newly decorated with my lunch—to steady myself. There was bound to be fallout for my rash response, but I couldn’t help it. I might lose everything—not just Finn but my dignity and my place in the racing community. It was a risk I had to take. I wouldn’t cower for Dalton Simmons anymore.

  I rounded the last berm at the track in Georgia, heading straight for the last jump before the finish line. I was so far ahead, the checkered flag was all but mine. Feeling a lot elated and only just a bit smug, I came up to the face of the jump, opened the throttle, and pulled up on the handlebars, pulling a perfect aerial maneuver that had the crowd gasping, then cheering so loud, I heard the roar through my helmet. It was a stupid, showboat thing to do, but I was already walking on air because of Kenni. I might as well ride it, too.

  As I rode past the shouting fans toward the tunnel leading to the stadium underground where all our “pits” were assembled, people leaned over the railings trying to touch me. It was intoxicating, but I had plans.

  I motored through the empty corridor, straight into my tent where Channing waited. Quickly handing the bike off to him for cleaning and service, I strode to the cooler at the back of the tent and grabbed a Gatorade, knowing Ralph was hot on my heels, or wheels, such as they were in this case. I turned over an empty blue milk crate Channing had laying around and settled in to wait for Ralph’s arrival.

  “Hawk!” I heard my manager shout as the tarp was thrown back from the entrance to the pit. “What in God’s name was that little stunt?”

  “I was just feeling the vibe, Ralphie!” I replied, unable to prevent the shit-eating grin that took over my face. “The crowd loved it.”

  “Since when did you become a showboat performer? Last I heard, you just wanted some clean racing,” Ralph replied, one eyebrow lowered and a scowl curling the edges of his mouth downward.

  “It was a one-off. I was so far ahead of Michaels, I had to do something to give the crowd their money’s worth.”

  “I don’t ever want to see it again unless we decide as a team that aerial maneuvers are our new bread and butter. Which is not before you win Supercross, got it?”

  I saluted good-naturedly, then clapped him on the back before moving back to Channing to see if I’d done any damage with my antics. Fortunately, just a little adjustment in the forks and all was as good as new. I wondered if I could run by Matt’s pit again, just to steal another kiss from Kenni but d
ecided it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering I’d just blown him out of the water. Instead, I sent her a text message.

  Me: What are your plans for tonight?

  Kenni: Finding the quickest way to drown my sorrows. It’s been a shitty night, and now you’ve got my brother torqued up. Get me out of here.

  It was late, but we’d spent the entire week in Georgia apart as we prepared for the race. Now that it was over, I wanted to show her The Rack, my favorite hole-in-the-wall in the city, and lucky for me, she seemed down for the ride.

  I pulled up in front of the La Quinta Inn, where she and Matt were staying to find her bouncing on the toes of her shoes as she waited. Her breath was a dense fog in the cold February air, but her cheeks were such a radiant pink, I felt myself fall just a little deeper in whatever with her. I shook the fuzziness from my brain and reached over to open the door for her. If she’d given me the chance, I would have gotten out and opened the door for her like a real gentleman, but I was realizing Kenni did things her own way.

  “Heya, Hawk!” she chirped as she climbed into the passenger’s seat. “I’m so glad to finally see you.”

  I echoed her sentiments by dragging her onto my lap and kissing her soundly. I wanted to make it perfectly clear just how much I missed her.

  “You ready for a good time, princess?” I grinned, cuddling her even closer to my chest before moving her back to her seat and drawing the belt over her.

  “I sure am! Show me what Atlanta has to offer.”

  The bar was only a handful of blocks from Kenni’s hotel, but I soaked up every second of having her by my side. Something felt changed between us, as though the long week apart had given us a final push toward each other—or maybe it was just me. Giving her a sidelong look as I pulled into a parking space, I was delighted to find the same brand of excitement in her eyes as in mine. Tonight would be a night to remember.

  “So, how do you feel about pool?” I asked as I exited the truck, coming around to the passenger side before hearing her answer.

  “I don’t feel one way or the other about it. I’ve never played,” she replied with a shrug. “Why? Are you a hustler?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “But pool is the second thing I’m the best at.”

  “So, you won a couple races. That doesn’t make you the best,” she scoffed, the adorable snort dangling at the end of her sentence.

  “Who said anything about racing?” I drawled suggestively.

  The smug look on her face was quickly replaced with a dazed expression as I winked at her. God, she was beautiful. I couldn’t believe she’d accepted me, my past, so effortlessly. No one had ever placed their trust in me like she did other than Ralph and Channing, who I just so happened to give paychecks to with every purse I won. As far as I could tell, there was no upside to Kenni being with me, at least not for her. For me, it was like winning the lottery.

  Grabbing her hand, I led her into the dimly lit bar. It had a dingy feel, but that seediness only added to the appeal. Cracked fake red leather booths lined one wall, while the other was taken up by a massive oak bar, manned by two bartenders. A myriad of tables and chairs were scattered in the well between the two. In the back of the room were two pool tables and several dartboards. At the late hour—nearly midnight—most of The Rack’s regular patrons had gone home. Now, there were only two men sitting at the bar and two playing a game of darts while a younger woman looked on.

  “What’ll you have?” I asked, curious to see if Kenni would stick with something safe and non-alcoholic, even on the heels of what she’d already admitted was a bad day.

  “I’m going to start this off right,” she replied as she strolled up to the smooth, gleaming oak counter. “Two shots of Patron and a bottle of Budweiser, please.”

  I raised my eyebrows, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned. For a girl who professed to not drink, that was a hell of a way to start out.

  “You sure about that, Kenni?” My concern grew when the bartender dropped the first shot in front of her, she lifted it in a toast, then poured the entire contents of the glass down her throat.

  “Did I look sure? Because I think I did. Don’t you?” Kenni reached for the second shot, not even giving the bartender a chance to place it on the counter in front of her. Tossing it back, she coughed softly but showed no other signs of distress. Maybe she drank more often than I thought.

  “I’ll just have a Budweiser,” I said as the pretty brunette behind the bar looked at me for my order. Once she placed the frosty bottle in front of me, I handed over my credit card. Kenni was already halfway through her beer by the time I lifted mine to my lips.

  “You might want to slow down a little, Princess,” I said, cautioning her before she made herself sick.

  “I know what I’m doing, Finn,” she said as she signaled the bartender for another shot and beer. “I told you today was a shit day. I’m going to chase my blues away by waking up with an epic hangover tomorrow. In the meantime, we party like rock stars, yeah?”

  I resigned myself to just one since I’d just appointed myself her caretaker. I appeased Kenni by ordering another, but it was clear she was intent on making a mark tonight. Making sure she was safe filled my chest with a strong current of pride.

  “Grab us some sticks,” I said as I gently steered her toward the back of the room, motioning to the cues mounted on the wall. I assembled the balls in a triangular rack, dropping the ten ball right in the center, then crowding the others at random around it. Kenni finally wandered back, a pool cue in each hand. She offered one to me, which I used to point at the rack. “Have you ever played pool at all?”

  “I told you I haven’t,” she said with a cock of her head. “Don’t you believe me?”

  “Of course, I do. I just figured you would have played by now. Most people have at least once.” I said with a shrug before moving closer to her. I leaned my stick against the wall and slid into Kenni’s personal space as I lined the cue ball up on the center of the table. “All you have to do is break this cluster up by shooting the white ball at it.”

  Kenni looked at me cautiously as she took another long swallow from her bottle as though she thought I was up to something. I had to give her points for understanding at least that much about me so far. I was up to something. She leaned over the table awkwardly, her elbow mounted on the green felt and the pool cue practically tucked under one arm.

  “Like this?” She craned her neck to look over her shoulder at me.

  “You really haven’t done this before,” I said, stating the obvious. “

  “Shut up and teach me how to do this,” she snickered as she waved at the table, signaling I should show her the proper form.

  Rather than simply demonstrating, I moved in behind her and brushed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the smooth column of her neck. I kissed it softly, then gently scraped my teeth over her soft skin. My balls tightened as I felt her softly shiver as I pushed on her back to guide her into position. I nearly groaned aloud as I bent over her, my hips directly connecting to the soft swells of her ass, while I demonstrated the proper way to hold the cue.

  “Now, when you want to take a shot, and forgive me for saying this—I promise I’m not trying to pull anything—but you want to line the stick up with.... uh, against your sternum.” I straightened up and rubbed a finger down the center of my chest.

  “Between my boobs, you mean,” she commented, her tone sardonic.

  “Well, yes.”

  “Alright, you’re the boss.” She moved the stick into the desired position as I resumed my pose over her body. I took every opportunity to nuzzle her cheek or neck as we dropped the balls in the pocket one by one. She was a natural, her body molding so easily to mine as she let me guide her through every turn. On the last shot, I couldn’t help myself any longer. I pressed my hips tighter against her behind, fitting myself to her, so she could feel what she was doing to me. I heard the soft gasp that escaped her throat, a reward
for the tiny reminder of the fun we had just a few weeks before. I moved to help her rise, but she quickly danced out of my grip and waved to the bartender to have her bring another round. Fuck, she was a pistol when she wanted to be, but that just stirred my inner beast. As she waited for her drinks, I bided my time, moving to the table and sinking the eight ball easily. Now, it was time to see just how much she’d picked up.

  I racked the balls again while she stood at my shoulder, keenly observing everything I did to show off. It was a small nod to my vanity, but damn, the way she looked at me sometimes made me feel like the most important man in the world. I stood back to let her demonstrate her newfound skills.

  Within the next ten minutes, she’d sunk every stripe, every solid, the eight ball, then racked them back up for good measure. I looked at her, astonished. The little minx had hustled me, after all.

  “You brat!” I jeered playfully as she downed the last of her beer and called for another. I strode toward her, intent on revenge, but she dodged me playfully yet again. I circled her around the pool table until the bartender was back with her last shot and another beer. I motioned for the server to close out my tab as I pulled Kenni back into my arms.

  “So, you’re a bad girl, then?” I questioned softly as I rubbed my nose against hers. “Good thing for me, I like bad girls.”

  “What did you say?” Kenni hissed as she inexplicably when rigid in my arms.

  “I just asked if you were a bad girl... I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just playing since you tricked me.”

  “Sure, I believe that,” she replied tartly before swallowing half the bottle of beer in one go. It was then I noticed she was starting to get wobbly on her feet. I went to snatch the bottle from her hand, but she was surprisingly quick for someone as sauced as she seemed to become with each passing moment.

  “You can’t have it,” she chided, wagging a finger back and forth at me. “See, this is my amnesia potion. Tekillya and Bud, Bud and Tekillya.”

  I moved to her side as she tried to get the last few drops of beer out of her bottle, wrapping one arm around her waist and bringing the other up to take it from her hand. She gave me a dirty look, then tried to flag the bartender again. Swiftly, I gathered her under my arm as the bartender quickly handed me my bill. Somehow, I managed to scrawl my signature and pocket my credit card without losing my grip on Kenni. Just as we got to my F150, she shook me off angrily.