Chapter 8

 

 

I am nervous all morning at work. It’s Saturday and it’s a race day at the local track. Race days are crazy busy, but that’s not why it feels like there’s a rock lodged in my throat and butterflies doing acrobatics in my stomach.

Jay hasn’t come in yet.

Thirty Six Cycles sells a premium racing gas that we have to import from some fuel company and it’s very expensive. All the fastest riders stop by our shop before race days to buy a few gallons of it. Jay always stops by first thing in the morning on race days.

It’s two hours until the races begin, and he hasn’t come in yet. I stand anxiously behind the counter, my eyes darting to the door every time someone comes in. I’m still not ready to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to look at him and remember how he looked the last time I saw him.

Last night I broke the news to my parents. I took the easy way out told them over a text message. I was feeling giddy and stupid after spending an hour in the hot tub with Aiden freaking Strauss, and he had almost convinced me that it would be fun to be his pretend girlfriend. As soon as I got home, I sent my parents a text through our family group chat that said:

 

I broke up with Jay. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s really not a big deal, I just wanted you to know.

 

Mom had called me immediately after, and I did my best fake happy voice, acting like nothing was wrong and that it was totally fine. I didn’t tell them that he cheated. Not to save his integrity or anything but, honestly because I worry my dad would try to kick his ass or something.

Now, my news is out in the open, and I’m at work and my dad is acting normal toward me, which is great. I know my parents assumed Jay and I would probably get married one day, and of course I assumed that too.

Oh well. It's not happening. Time to move on.

The door to the shop opens and I flinch. But it’s not him, thank God. It’s just the dad of a kid who races every weekend. I smile and greet him and sell him some race gas and then let out a long sigh of relief.

I check my watch again. Jay is always at the races by now. He’s probably not coming. He should know better than to show up here now.

Of course, there’s no other place within a hundred miles to buy race gas, so who knows. We live in a small town and I know I’ll see him again at some point, but I’m going to cherish every moment I have until that happens.

I feel a buzz in the back pocket of my shorts and I take out my phone. I’m still not used to the new background photo – a cute cat picture I found online – but the name on my screen is very familiar.

 

Jay: you ready to talk yet?

 

I stare, open-mouthed at the text message. What the fuck is his deal? Am I ready to talk? Of course I don’t want to talk! I don’t owe him a talk. I don’t owe him shit.

I put the phone back in my pocket, leaving his pathetic text unanswered.

When the shop door opens again, my heart leaps into overdrive. Jay’s text was about ten minutes ago and that’s about how long it would take him to drive here from his house. Oh God. Please don’t be him. The store is filled with customers and I can’t stand the idea of facing my cheating ex when I’m at work.

A familiar figure walks inside, setting my fears at ease. But just as quickly as I’m relieved that it’s not Jay, I get nervous again.

Because it’s Aiden.

He looks incredibly sexy in a pair of black shorts, Adidas shoes, and a blue Team Loco shirt that fits him like it was designed for his muscular body. Hell, maybe it was. It looks like a plain T-shirt from here, but it can’t possibly be plain because he makes it look so good.

He lifts the sunglasses off his eyes and grins at me from across the shop. His dark hair is a little messy but in this sexy way, like it’s just waiting for me to run my hands through it. To grip my hand in his hair and tug his mouth to mine…

“Morning,” he says, walking up to the counter. His lips tip up in this smirk that makes my stomach tense up. He leans his elbows on the counter in front of me. “I figured I would find you here. We made a huge mistake last night.”

My throat goes dry. I should have seen this coming. Of course he doesn’t want to pretend to be anything with me. God, I feel like an idiot.

“Yeah, sorry—” I begin, but he cuts me off by sliding his phone across the counter.

“We forgot to exchange numbers.”

I stare at him as I realize he was just making a stupid joke earlier. He grins at me.

“Don’t look so scared, it’s just a number.”

I snap out of it real quick. “I’m not scared,” I say sarcastically as I take his phone. The screen is already unlocked. With shaking fingers, I type in my number and save it. I can’t believe I’m this nervous to be this close to a guy.

“Thanks babe,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He holds out his good hand toward me. “Your turn.”

I take out my phone, unlock the screen and immediately close out my texts that were still open. I go to the contacts list and create a new one, then hand him my phone.

He’s a little clumsy using a phone with only his left hand, and he brings his cast up to steady it. I watch him, how his bottom lip turns under his teeth while he types in his number. God, everything this guy does is sexy. I wonder if being that good looking is some kind of supernatural skill that makes him faster on a dirt bike.

Instead of handing my phone back, he presses the home screen button. He frowns. “Well, that’s not going to do,” he says, looking up at me.

“What’s not going to do?” I ask.

He glances around then gives me a mischievous look. “Can I come back there or is there some no customers allowed behind the counter rule?”

“Technically, that’s a rule I guess, but you’re not a customer. You’re Aiden Strauss and I’m sure my dad would let you do anything you want.”

“Even date his daughter?” he says, his eyebrows lifting.

I blush a furious shade of red. I hadn’t even thought about that when we talked last night. If I’m going to pretend date Aiden, my family would find out. Should I tell them the truth, that it’s a lie?

Aiden walks behind the counter, rules be damned, and holds up my phone. “Time for a new background photo,” he says.

With the camera on, he holds it out and wraps his casted arm around me. I smile like we’re taking a selfie, but at the last second, Aiden presses a kiss to my cheek. Snap.

He lets go of me and I feel the sudden urge to press myself against his body again, but I’m sane enough to hold back. He grins and hands me my phone.

“There you go. Perfect background photo.”

I look down at the screen. He’s already set it as my wallpaper. We look good. Happy. We look like a real couple.

“Text it to me?” Aiden asks as he walks back around the counter to the customer side. “I need a new background, too.”

While I’m texting him the photo, my dad pops out from the back of the shop, and calls out Aiden’s name.

“Good to see you!” Dad says, clapping him on the back. “What can I help you with today?”

“Oh, I’m just here to see Jenn,” Aiden says. My dad’s smile widens. Whatever I thought my dad’s reaction would be, this isn’t it. “Well, here she is,” he says, motioning to me. “You take good care of my boy,” Dad tells me before walking off to join another customer.

“That’s Aiden Strauss over there!” Dad tells the customer, his voice booming with pride as if Aiden were his own son.

“Your dad’s cool,” Aiden tells me.

I roll my eyes. “He’s starstruck.”

A little boy runs up to Aiden and taps his arm. “Mr. Strauss?” he says in a tiny voice. When Aiden turns to him, he holds out a crayon and a coloring book. “Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure you can, little buddy.” Aiden kneels down and takes the crayon, holding it awkwardly in his casted hand.

The coloring book is dirt bike themed, and Aiden turns to a fresh page that features a cartoon guy on a dirt bike. He signs it real big.

A few feet away, I see the boy’s mother watching him with a smile on her face. “Tell him thank you,” she whispers to her son.

“Thank you!” the boy practically yells as Aiden hands back the autograph.

“You’re quite welcome,” Aiden says.

He’s so cute when he’s talking to kids. His voice gets softer and sweeter.

Over the next half an hour, all the customers want to talk to him, and he seems happy to talk back. He signs autographs and poses for photos, and gives some riding advice to a few teenagers I recognize from the track.

After a while, everyone clears out because the races are about to start. I pretend to be busy on the store’s computer while my dad talks with Aiden a bit. But once Rafael calls Dad back into the shop with a question, we are once again alone.

“The celebrity of Breaux Valley,” I say, tossing a wadded up post-it note to Aiden.

He catches it in his left hand. “I like people,” he says. “I really like them when they’re not asking about my brother.”

“Your brother?” I say without thinking. Then I remember. Mikey Strauss—the famous motocross racer who came on the scene a few years before Aiden did. He was arrested for drugs and I haven’t seen him again. It was a pretty big scandal in the professional motocross world.

I shrug. “You’re not your brother.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Aiden says, running his finger over a sticker on the counter. “He had all the natural talent. I’ve had to work my ass off to go pro. He just slid into it like the entire sport of motocross was made for him.”

“Does he still ride?” I ask, choosing my words carefully because I can tell this is a sensitive topic for Aiden.

He shakes his head. “Every day I’m worried he might start back, but he’s too out of shape and lazy these days. Jail kind of ruined him. Actually—it was probably the drugs.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod quietly.

“Anyway,” Aiden says, smacking his good hand flat on the counter. “I’m here to take you on a date.”

“A date?” I say with a snort. “I’m at work.”

“So after work.”

I hesitate, trying to figure out if this is joke. “I have a ton of homework to do.”

Aiden is undeterred. “So tomorrow then. Sunday.”

“Why are we going on a date?” I ask.

“Because we’re fake dating,” he says, whispering the last two words. “You can’t pretend to date someone without going on dates.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I didn’t think we were actually doing that.”

“Of course we are,” he says. “Until that jackass ex of yours realizes the mistake he made.” He reaches across the counter and puts his hand on top of mine. “So, girlfriend, are you free tomorrow for a pretend date that’s going to blow your mind?”

I laugh. “If it’s pretend, we could just pretend we went on a date and not actually do it.”

“No way. This is a small town, babe. We need to be seen in public. You can’t just call up your ex and tell him you found someone new—it doesn’t work that way. You have to be out in public. Have someone else see you and tell him. Trust me, he’ll hate finding out that way. He has to find out from the grapevine that the best girl he ever dated has moved on to someone better.”

The look he gives me sends a shiver right up my spine. God, he’s gorgeous. I would give anything to have him ask me on a real date. But I guess this is all I get. Better strike while the iron is hot and all that.

“Okay,” I say. “Sunday it is.”

He grins. “I’ll pick you up around noon. Wear clothes like you have on now.”

I look down. “Shorts and a Thirty Six Cycles shirt?”

He grins. “Yeah. No high heels or anything fancy. I’m taking you on a fun date.”

“I’m intrigued,” I say.

He taps his fingers on the countertop. “Oh, and I’ll be picking you up in my sister’s car. Which is actually your old car.”

I laugh. I love that Aiden is fun and laid back. I love that he doesn’t get all alpha male and refuse to drive a black Camaro that belongs to his sister. Jay hated my car. He would never drive it and he hated when I wanted to drive us somewhere. He had to be in his massive monster truck and he had to be in charge, always.

I never realized it back then, but now I do. A guy who is comfortable driving his little sister’s car is a much sexier trait than any positive thing I ever saw in Jay’s personality.