His shoulders raise as I walk over to his dilapidated van. Sometimes I feel guilty that he sleeps in this thing. In my defense, we did try our hardest to buy him something better. Reid has a bit of a pride issue when it comes to money. I guess I can’t blame him. He comes from nothing, and we all have more money than we know what to do with without even working for it. It could be a weird dynamic if we let it.
Reid’s clothes are all piled in a dingy old duffle bag. There’s no rhyme or reason to how they’re thrown in here either. His underwear is nowhere to be found. I really need to get out of here before I start sniffing his t-shirts and debate stealing one to sleep in. Finally, I find a pair of boxer briefs—they’re sage green and immeasurably soft.
I should scold myself for getting into this situation—holding my crush’s underwear like an idiot. Now I’m considering what they might look like on him. I’m tumbling into a fantasy again. I have to pull myself out of it.
This mountain biking season is bound to be awkward. I don’t have many friends in the competition circuit, none besides Chloe really, and things are still tense between us. Reid, on the other hand, is friends with basically everyone. The crowds love him, the judges love him, and most of all, the women love him.
Girls that race, girls that watch, and girls that are just in the area and barely know what freeride even is are obsessed withhim. Last year, he competed in all of the same races on his own. I’m not sure how he got by without a shower, bathroom, or any of the amenities that he’s borrowing from me this year. I don’t want to let myself think about it too much. I’m sure he found his way into some woman’s soft sheets at every stop.
I rode a lot last year, but I mostly stuck around Colorado. Delaney and I flew out to Whistler to cheer Reid on. Whistler, nestled in the Coast Mountains, is one of the best downhill mountain bike parks in existence. I had never been, and I was so excited to get some good riding in while spending time with one of my best friends. Reid was pretty occupied with a chick named Luella he had been seeing. He was supposed to come with us down to Seattle for the weekend after the competition, but he decided to stay back with her.
That stung.
It’s none of my business, but I’m curious if he’s going to be seeing her when we get up there later this summer. She isn’t the right type of girl for him. You can tell by looking at her that thedirty mountain biker thingwould be hot for a while, but she would hate mud being tracked in through her perfectly prim living room. I swear I’m not just saying that because I’m jealous.
There’s a knock at the trunk of Reid’s van, and I jump back, throwing the underwear in the process.
“Addie! What is taking you so long? I’m in my birthday suit out here. The coyotes are gonna get me!”
I don’t meet his eyes. “I couldn’t find anything in your dumpster fire of a suitcase.”
He takes the clothes out of my hands and heads back to my van to get changed. The amount of time he’s spending in my space is starting to make me feel woozy. I underestimated just how much we’d be seeing of each other.
Wiggling my way out of his van, I march over to my own to yell at him to hurry up. Desperately, I need a shower and somespace to myself. The tension in my jaw is spreading up my neck and into my head.
“Reid come on. I’m sticky and you’re taking forever.”
He steps out, somehow looking perfectly messy, as he always does. Reid nails that rustic mountain vibe without looking like he’s a cowboy. I have to try to look effortless—always scrolling through Pinterest looking for the perfect ‘granola girl’ outfits to emulate.
“Relax, I’m done. Do you want me to make lunch, or do you want to go somewhere?”
“We should just make something. We’ve hardly made any progress.”
He clutches at his chest and looks at me dramatically. I roll my eyes before he even gets the words out. I know exactly what’s coming, and I’m trying as hard as I can to shove my smile down as he says, “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”
I resist the urge to kick a rock at his shins. “Make something tasty as an apology,” I call back to him.
“Yes, Addie. Your wish is my command.”
Oh how I wish that were true. I clutch at the wet fabric of my shirt and grimace. Reid notices and starts to reach out towards me. I panic, step back, and rush into the van.
He’s yelling through the metal doors as I close them, “I’ll buy you a new shirt, I swear.”
My breath is a bubble in my throat. For a second there, I thought he was actually gonna touch me. Hopefully the water will snap me back to reality and cool me down.
5
The water pelting against my skin brings everything back into focus. I’m still impressed that we fit everything into this van, and that I can take a hot shower in the middle of Wyoming on the side of the road. Well…okay. Hot is an exaggeration, but it’s not cold and I’m working on my gratitude right now.
Maintaining my skincare routine is important to me while on the road, which might seem vain, but nothing feels better than a cool serum after a day of riding in the sun. I have to be better about sunscreen this year, because the helmet tan line isn’t as flattering as some riders like to think it is.
On the other side of the shower wall—if you could call it that—I hear Reid making lunch.
This wall is so thin I swear I can feel his throaty breaths as he pulls down the cast iron pan. It’s tucked up in the corner cabinet and it’s deceptively hard to get down. I chuckle at his struggle.
The lack of space between us while I’m naked in the shower is nauseating.
I don’t love being naked while he’s so close to me. But it’s notlike I can explain to him that it’s hard to be naked in the same van as my crush. It shouldn’t be weird. I don’t know why I’m making it weird.
