“McKelle, I’m here with you.”
I should tell him to take a chance with KitKat. I should tell him that I wasn’t over Cruz…that I’d never be over Cruz. But a sip of something warm and tantalizing flowed through my veins. That something was Ryatt and having his attention only on me had me feeling a little too good for a stupid girl still in love with her ex-boyfriend.
Engines roared from the pits. I had corner two, and Ryatt had corner three. We could see each other, and I made sure he could follow my lead for the sighting laps. For the first lap, the riders got a feel for the track and on the second lap all track monitors waved their red flags, letting the riders learn where to look for track conditions.
And then the morning sped by as fast as the bikes on the track. Twenty-minute sessions for three groups of riders. Some Saturdays were packed, but this was a perfect day for Ryatt. Each group had about ten riders. Passing was minimal and no one wrecked.
KitKat was tight in the corners. She looked good. Really good. Tandy and Martin hit the corner hot. Tandy’s knee was on the ground, his ass hanging off the seat as he closed the last inch of space.
Martin followed the same line, breaking a bit coming into the turn, leaning, and picking up the bike, and firing down the straight. My tummy tumbled just watching because like them, I was a junkie for the rush. The afternoon couldn’t come quickly enough.
When the final group finished their session, I walked back to the pits with Ryatt.
“The scream of those bikes was crazy. Any way we can record the laps this afternoon?”
“Absolutely.” I had a chin-mounted camera on my racing helmet, but I had an extra handlebar mount for it.
Ryatt was bouncing in his boots. “Your friend was killing it.” He raked his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. The sun was brutal sitting behind the tire barriers. “Her lean was freaking epic.”
I smiled, but a twist of jealousy tightened in my gut. “She’s great.” And she was, but I guess I didn’t realize how much it would bother me that he noticed.
“She was good, but I’ve seen you ride. No competition.” He smirked as he gave me a side glance. “I love a girl with big dick energy.”
I laughed. “Well, be prepared. There aren’t a lot of girls at the track and most of us aren’t known for being sweet. Some guys have a hard time with a girl riding harder and faster.”
“Competition isn’t the only thing giving them a hard time when you’re around.”
I stuttered in my steps.
He turned and walked backwards so we spoke face to face. “Hey, a hot girl on a fast bike is fire.”
And so was a nice guy who rode like the devil.
At our tent, my dad had lunch laid out on the table. Ryatt didn’t seem to mind hanging with my dad rather than heading over to grab food with KitKat and the others.
Mom had packed coolers with picnic sides. Mostly because my dad didn’t trust food trucks, and he trusted the snack shack even less. All of the food was in separate plastic containers.
Cece sat back in a chair with her tablet in her lap watchingStranger Things. She absently ate pickle chips from a paper plate. An open bag of potato chips sat at her feet.
My dad latched onto Ryatt and introduced him to the other Nitro organizers.
I plopped down in the chair next to Cece and crunched into one of her pickle chips.
Her gaze shifted from her tablet, to me, to Ryatt without moving her head. “He likes you.”
Ryatt laughed and nodded at something Scott said. He used his hands to describe his first experience monitoring a corner, winding his palm in the air, and leaning his body.
“Do you like him?”
I grabbed the potato chips and stuffed one into my mouth. “We’re friends.”
She shoved her hand into the potato chip bag. “Cruz is going to be mad.”
Why did that hit like a punch to the gut?
“He’s here,” she said.
My head snapped toward her. “Who’s here?” Not that she hadn’t been clear. Not that my body and mind didn’t respond as if she’d just announced a nuclear explosion was about to go off. I wasn’t sure who would detonate first, me or Cruz. Had he seen me with Ryatt?
