Beau shifts, holding a hand up; the crowd goes wild. Ash falls to her knees at his side while the medics swoop in, checking him for concussion. I step back behind a row of reporters and wait just long enough to make sure he can walk. For a second, I think he’s looking for me, his eyes scanning in my direction, but Ash is there, drawing his focus, walking beside him, head bent, shielding her emotion. I grab my bag and duck out of the arena,into the balmy night air, my heart more torn to pieces than I would ever have thought possible.
Because in seeing Ash, and how much she clearly loves Beau, I’m forced to accept the truth of my own heart, the truth I’ve been fighting, all this time.
I’m in love with him too, exactly like I promised I never would be. And I will protect that secret with my dying breath—he will never, ever know how I feel.
Beau
‘It’s not a broken wrist,’ I say, frustrated beyond all get-out, no doubt completely failing to keep the thunderous expression off my face. I know it’s important to the managers of the tour to ensure rider safety. That’s why they make us jump through all these hoops. But right now, the protocol is making me itchy.
‘We’ll need X-rays to confirm, either way,’ the doc says with a shake of the head.
I look from him to my wrist, biting back the stinging retort that’s on the tip of my tongue.
‘Just go get the screen done,’ Cole says.
‘We have a machine on site,’ the doctor adds. This is one of the bigger stadiums on the tour, and the facilities are second to none.
I look around, half hoping to see Bailey, but she’s nowhere. My stomach dips when I think about what she saw. The accident, and then Ash. My mouth turns to dust.
‘I just wanna get this over with.’ My tone is dark, sharp.
‘Honey, just get an X-ray.’ Ash rubs her hand over my back, eyes solicitous. My chest feels heavy.
‘Glad you came?’ I ask, even through my irritation.
She rolls her eyes. ‘Glad to be reminded why I never want to see you do that ever again, sure.’
‘This way, Beau.’ The doctor now takes my agreement as guaranteed, and gestures down the corridor. ‘Y’all will have to wait in the dressing rooms for now.’
‘This won’t take long,’ I say vaguely in their direction. And then, with blood pounding through my ears, and my tongue feeling all heavy because of how much I want to know where she is, but also to seem casual, I say, ‘Can someone check on Bailey? I’m sure she’ll want to cover this for her story.’ I try to make it sound like I don’t care either way.
Nash nods. ‘I’ll go.’
I’m too distracted to more than fleetingly notice the way Cole’s eyes narrow.
‘Thanks, bro. I’ll be right back.’ I step away from Ash, that heaviness back in my chest, then wave my non-injured arm in the air.
Forty minutes later, my wrist is bandaged up, a bad sprain confirmed. My arm, thankfully, is fine, which means I can still ride, so long as the doctor signs off. He won’t like it—I know from experience that even a sprain should be rested, but I think he’ll come around. Everyone will love it—it plays right into the whole Comeback King message they’re building around me. Riding with a bandaged wrist? Fantastic PR.
I grimace, unable to give that more than a passing thought. I get back to the waiting room, my eyes falling on my family.
‘He returns,’ Austin says with a grin. He pats my back with about a tenth of the force he’d usually employ.
‘Cut it out,’ I growl. ‘I’m not made of glass.’
He winks at me, shrugs his broad shoulders. ‘Anything else you need to do here?’
I shake my head. ‘I just want to get back to the hotel, to be honest.’
‘If it’s any consolation, you scored huge for that ride. You’re in the lead.’
I haven’t even thought to check the results. ‘Yeah?’
Cole nods. ‘Shame you’ll miss tomorrow.’
I move my arm out for everyone to see. ‘Who said anything about missing it?’
‘You can’t be serious?’
