“Everything hurts, which is probably good,” he grimaced, trying to sit up. “Nothing’s numb. Just the shoulder feels wrong. And some road rash, I think.”
I heard engines approaching—the rest of the pack catching up. Some slowed as they passed, but most just swerved around Milo’s downed bike and continued the race. Only Red and Vince pulled over, cutting their engines and jogging over to us.
“Shit, man,” Red said, for once not sounding like a complete asshole. “That was nasty.”
“There was gravel,” I said, anger suddenly replacing the fear. “Didn’t you guys ride the route to check it out?”
“Construction up the road last week,” Vince said, crouching down to check on Milo. “Must have missed it on our test run.”
I barely heard Vince. All that mattered was Milo’s face—hurt but alive. Relief and tears blurred my vision. I kissed him, not caring who saw, just needing him to know. He managed a smile. “Guess I should crash more often.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Let Red and Vince stare—I didn’t care. Nothing else mattered.
I became aware of Red and Vince staring at us, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Let them stare. Let the whole fucking world stare. None of it mattered compared to the man lying injured in front of me.
Dani rushed up. “Shit. Milo! Is he okay?”
“We need to get him to a hospital,” I said, pulling out my phone with shaking hands. “Check that shoulder. Can you take care of his bike?”
“No ambulance,” Milo protested. “We can’t afford—”
“Fuck that,” I cut him off. But as I looked at my phone, I realized I wasn’t calling 911. I’d pulled up June’s contact. She was the one person I trusted to help me with this.
She answered on the second ring. “Xavier? Why are you calling so late? Is everything okay?” Her voice, calm and curious, sent a wave of shame crashing through me. She trusted us, and we’d been out here doing this reckless shit.
“Milo crashed his motorcycle,” I said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He’s conscious, talking. Shoulder’s messed up. Road rash. I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”
I expected panic, accusations, anger. Instead, her voice remained steady. “Okay. Can you share your location with me? Stay where you are. Don’t move him unless you have to. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Do you need an ambulance?”
I looked down at Milo and he groaned. “Don’t think so. Can’t afford one, anyway.”
She must have heard him through the phone because she huffed. “Don’t worry about money right now. Milo’s life is more important than any bill.”
“June—” I started, not even sure what I was going to say. Apologize? Make excuses? “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “Take care of him until I get there. I’m coming.”
The call ended, and I sent her our location with trembling fingers. When I looked back at Milo, he was watching me with those warm brown eyes that saw everything.
“You called June,” he said, a statement, not a question.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t read his expression through the pain. “Let us take care of you for once, okay?”
I settled beside Milo, arranging myself to support his head without jostling his injured shoulder. Vince and Dani were examining his bike, discussing how to get it back to the barndominium. This community was tight-knit, and they stepped up when they were needed.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Milo, my lips against his temple. “This was stupid. We shouldn’t have been here.”
“Never thought I’d hear you admit we were too old for this,” he replied, a ghost of his usual humor in his voice despite the pain.
I laughed. “Hey, I didn’t say that. I just… you’re right. This isn’t therapy. I need the real deal.”
He chuckled, then groaned as it jostled his shoulder. “Could you say that again, more clearly? You’re right, Milo. Has such a nice ring.”
“Don’t push it.”
Chapter 19
June
