Page 53 of Burnout
“Thank you for tonight. For coming with me, for telling that story, for all of it. I was dreading answering questions about my knee and practice. Everyone wants me to already be back to where I was. No one more than me.”
“You’ll get there.”
I nod like I agree. I hope, but I’m not sure. I feel a little surer with Knox believing it though.
“You will. I’ve seen the videos of you at the Olympics. You were phenomenal. You had a determination about you that I still see on your face any time you get up on the beam. Besides, I know how damn stubborn you are. You’re not done.”
“You looked me up?” Surprise makes my insides feel warm and fuzzy.
“Of course,” he says casually.
I should have known with that line about being the most talented gymnast to come along in a generation. That was before I got injured. I bet they’re reconsidering their words now.
“Lots of people think I won’t get back to where I was before.”
“You’ll prove them wrong, princess.”
My chest inflates like a balloon and my throat is thick with emotion. I couldn’t talk even if I knew what to say.
Knox waits for me to climb up into the driver’s seat and then closes the door. I wave from the inside and he smiles, turns and heads for his bike.
I start the Bronco, but don’t move. His words swirl around in my head.You’ll prove them wrong, princess.So certain. So confident inme.
Don’t do it, Ave.No sooner than I’ve thought the words, I kill the engine and go after him.
He’s already put on his jacket and started his bike, but he pauses when he sees me.
“Okay,” I say when I reach him.
“Okay?” He sits on his motorcycle, holding the helmet in his hands. My heart races with the promise of excitement and fun. Two things I’m certain are guaranteed when Knox is in charge.
“You’ve done everything I asked, so tonight, you can order me around.”
Knox hands me his helmet with a wicked smile I feel all the way to my toes. “Get on.”
NINETEEN
My hands shakeas I pull on the heavy helmet. I flip up the visor so he can see my eyes. He grins back, an approving glint in his hazel eyes. Then he scoots forward to make room for me behind him.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I climb onto the motorcycle. It is not easy in a dress.
“For a ride.” He revs the engine. “Hold on tight, princess.”
That’s the only warning I get before he takes off. I yelp and grab hold of his jacket on either side of his waist. I lean in closer as the wind whips around us, burrowing my front into his warm back. My pulse accelerates along with the bike as he pulls out of the parking lot. I smile into the night, loving the feel of wrapping myself around him while he navigates through town and then onto a quieter, two-lane highway.
My fear lessens, but the butterflies in my stomach and the ache between my legs grow under the rumble of the seat. It’s like doing a somersault on beam, but with a hot, shirtless guy staring at you while you do. Or maybe that’s just the fantasy that’s worked its way into my head since Knox started coming to the gym.
I’m not sure how long or how far we ride. There’s an ease in being with Knox like this, where nothing is expected of me. Get on, wear the helmet, hold on tight. Easy. And exhilarating.
The motorcycle slows as we turn off onto a dirt road. There’s nothing as far as I can see until suddenly there is. A track of some kind. Abandoned or in rough shape, I’m not sure which. As we get closer, I can see the track itself is in good shape. It’s just everything around it that’s in shambles. Rickety-looking bleachers, a shed that was once maybe used to store supplies but now is leaning so far right that I’m certain one shove and it’d fall over.
A crowd of people are parked just off the track. Motorcycles in an array of colors with their riders perched on them. And other guys and girls standing around them. There are more people sitting in the center of the track on blankets, coolers littered around them. It takes me a second to realize I’m seeing Knox’s party spot. This is where he comes to hang out. I’d bet on it. Especially judging by the unimpressed glares aimed at me from several of the girls watching as Knox pulls onto the track. He stops when we reach the front of the crowd.
One of the guys standing nearby walks over to him. “Knox Holland. I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight.”
“Change of plans.”
The guy gives me a cursory glance, but his attention quickly darts to the bike and he whistles. “Well, all right. I’ll let everyone know.”
