Page 82 of Roan

Searching my eyes for an answer, she sighs. “Why did you let me believe the lie when you knew it would destroy us?”

She’s asked me this before, and on the beach in Baja. I couldn’t give her an answer without hinting to the fact that I wasn’t going to out her dad. But now it’s different. She knows. I sweep her hair off her shoulder, my eyes intent on hers. She blinks slowly, waiting for my words. “It wasn’t my place to say. He’s a good person, just made a shitty decision one night.” I hold her face in my palms. “And I don’t say this to be vindictive, or an asshole, but I think you and me, can both relate to that.”

Tears pool in her eyes and she blinks away the emotion on her face. It’s one of regret. “I’m sorry I turned to him.”

Pain hits my chest. I’d love to go as far as to say I’m over it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be completely over the fact that she chose him over me. I couldn’t hold onto it though. If I did, I was no better than her holding onto the fact that I lied to her.

“I am too,” I tease, shifting my hips underneath her and squeezing her waist. “He’s the worst person ever.” I’m joking, kind of. He’s not exactly my favorite person in the world.

She lets out a yelp when I tickle her hips, laughing through her tears. And then her expression shifts to empathy and she regards me with forgiveness. “I understand why you didn’t tell me the truth. I do.”

The loudest noise comes from Berlin’s mouth in that moment and we both turn to look at her. “How can someone so tiny make such loud noises?”

Ophelia stands and goes over to Berlin. She places her hand on her chest, shaking her gently. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she just snores really fucking loud.” I stand and pick her up from the couch, her bunny she has a death grip on flopping to smack me in the face.

Ophelia follows me as I carry her upstairs to her room. “Where’s Tiller and Amberly?”

“Date night. I’m the babysitter tonight.” I lay Berlin down in her bed. She doesn’t even move, completely dead to the world.

We stand there watching Berlin sleep when Ophelia laughs lightly, her arms around my waist, her face buried in my chest. “This is making my ovaries hurt.”

“Huh?”

“Watching you with kids.” She motions to Berlin. “It’s making me want one. You’re so good with them.”

I don’t need to be told twice, nor do I tell her about the diaper incident from earlier. I pick her up by the waist, haul her over my shoulder and carry her to my bed. I might not use a condom.

Kidding. We’re not ready for that. But… the making part, I’m down for practice.

I didn’t want to compete at the X Games this year but two days later, Shade, Tiller, and me, find ourselves in Minneapolis all competing for the best trick. It’s weird being at the X Games again because for the last two years, I haven’t. I’ve been all about racing and less about the freestyle world of the sport.

It’s during the practice sessions for best trick that I realize something. For the first time in my life, I’m not interested in any of the pre-parties, or the after-parties. I don’t care about the women trying to sneak into our hotel rooms or VIP access to any night club in town.

All I care about is being there with my brothers. It’s then, between the first and second practice sessions while we’re sitting around the Honda tent, I bring up Baja for the first time.

Tiller scowls, Shade’s intrigued. Baja is where our dad died nearly twenty-two years ago. I’ve never once mentioned Baja, even entertained the idea of going back, or, sadly, mentioned my dad. To anyone. Truthfully, I was angry at him, at the race format, at all of it. He died of an aneurysm, completely out of his control. I don’t know why, but I suddenly had the desire to race it. With my brothers.

Ricky, who’s sitting across from me, lifts an eyebrow. “Have you mentioned this to Honda yet?”

I shake my head, my eyes on Ophelia in the distance holding Berlin’s hand while Willa talks with an ESPN official. “No, not yet.” I run my fingers over my bottom lip. I nailed my face on my handlebars during the first practice session when I missed the landing on a 360 backflip flair and caught my foot on the peg. “I wanted to run it past you guys first. I won’t have much time between Baja and the Roof of Africa, but if Honda goes for it, we could run the team race.”

“Why?” Shade asks. Shade is the most technical thinking out of the three of us. He analyzes everything to the point you want to tell him to stop thinking and just fucking do it.

So why? Why’d I want to race one of the most grueling desert races out there? Easy. I’d done everything else. I’d just come off a Hare and Hound championship, won Erzberg, Motocross championships, and ISDE (International Six Days Enduro that’s considered the Olympic of motocross). All that’s left is Baja.

Tiller’s the one to speak up and say, “Because it’s the only event this motherfucker hasn’t dominated.”

Ricky shifts his position in the chair he’s in. He looks to Shade, then me, and finally Tiller. He doesn’t say a word. He waits for them.

They announce the second practice session over the loudspeaker. Ophelia makes her way over to me but stays back near the trailer. Shade reaches for his helmet on his handlebars. “I’m in.”

Smiling, I glance at Tiller.

He groans and rolls his eyes, trying to grab River who just took off with his helmet. “Oh, what the hell. I’m in.”

And just like that, Ricky’s over talking to Honda. I find Ophelia before the second practice session. Wrapping my arms around her, I kiss the top of her head. “Wish me luck. My runs have been shit so far.”

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