Chapter Twelve
Beckett looked up at the sign his trainer held as he sped around the track. He was two seconds faster this round than he had been earlier today.
He wanted to be faster.
He leaned the bike into the turn, put his leg out as he took it and then twisted the throttle on the straightaway. His bike flew through the air at the jump.
His pulse went faster than his bike. His body felt amped up, but his mind was also at ease.
Beck felt a fire burning through him, one that hadn’t fully ignited in years. He fed off of it, it pushed him, made him completely focus as his bike bounced over the whoops—he’d always loved racing over the small hills—and then he took up the speed again.
The passion he used to ride with reignited within him. Everything he loved about riding was intensified, an explosion inside of him. When he finished the last lap, and pulled up to his trainer, team and team owner as they watched on, he felt invincible.
As invincible as he felt, he knew there was a reason the Rush Racing team owner was here. The truth was, he couldn’t find it in himself to worry. Not anymore. He was a Supercross champion. He was the fastest guy on his team, even if he hadn’t ridden like it last season…and he was bisexual, and hoped to be in a relationship with a man. They would have to accept that.
“Christ, you’re smoking out there, Monroe. You can tell you’re really feeling it. That’s the Beckett we know! Where was he hiding?” Bill, the team owner said as Beckett pulled his helmet off.
“Thank you. I feel better than I have in a long time, if I’m being honest. But I can be faster. I know it.”
“If you were doing what you were doing while not feeling good,” Bill said, “I sure as hell can’t wait to see what you can do now.”
The men all laughed, but Beckett just waited for him to get on with it. He wanted Bill to say whatever he’d come all the way out here to say.
As if he sensed that Beckett didn’t want to beat around the bush forever, he said, “Listen, I just want you to know, you’ll always have a place with Rush Racing. I know we said it before, but I want to reiterate. You’re part of the team…of the family. That’s all that matters, Beck. We take care of our own at Rush, and you’re one of us.”
“Agreed,” his trainer, Dom, told him.
The three other members of the Rush Racing team chimed in around him.
Just like that, any residue of worry melted off of him. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“It’s sad that in this day and age, we even have to say that. Not quite sure how any of it has to do with how you race, but sports are funny like that.” Bill shook his head. Unfortunately, it wasn’t only sports where people felt that way.
“Thanks, man,” Beckett said again. He probably should have realized he’d still been worried about it but he was likely in denial. He wasn’t worried anymore.
Bill nodded. “I’ll let you boys get back at it.” And then he was gone and Beck wanted back out on his bike. Wanted to beat his last time, work out, and then head home so he could call Chris and tell him how his day had gone.
He wished like hell he could tell him in person.
* * * *
“Did he win yet?” Quinn asked Christian from the other side of the couch. Christian sat with his ass at the edge, leaning forward, his leg bouncing up and down.
“You look like you’re going to try and jump through the TV. Don’t try and jump through the TV, please.”
Christian looked over and rolled his eyes at his friend. “He crashed. Beck never crashes. That knocked him down to tenth place.”
“But he’s in sixth place now.”
“I know he’s in sixth! That’s why I’m losing my fucking mind. Oh fuck! He just passed Edwards!” Christian shot off the couch as though that would help. “He just passed Edwards,” he said again. “Now he’s in fifth.”
Christian kept his eyes glued to the television. His heart threatened to burst through his chest, it beat so damn hard. Beck would be devastated if he didn’t at least get a podium today. He’d won the first three races of the season. He was the points leader. While not taking the first race today wouldn’t be the end of the world, he would see it that way.
“Jesus, you’re really in love with this guy.”
Christian didn’t turn away from the television when he said, “No shit.”
“I knew it. I always have. It’s just good to see you at peace with it.”
And he was. He really was. They spoke every day. He felt like he was in a romance novel every time he saw Beck’s name light up on his phone. It was ridiculous really, but he didn’t care. It was as though he found a piece of himself he hadn’t realized he’d needed so damn badly. He’d always known he missed Beck, that he cared for him, but having him in his life again felt like he’d been put back together when he hadn’t known he’d been broken.
Not that he would tell Quinn all of that…but he also knew he had to tell Quinn something or the man wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Being at peace with something or knowing it’s true still isn’t a guarantee, Quinn. You and I both know life doesn’t always work that way. I want him. There’s not a doubt in my mind he wants me.”
“Cocky.”
“Confident for good reason.” He grinned at Quinn. “We have a lot to figure out. It’s been pretty much an unspoken agreement that we don’t make any decisions until after this season.” It wasn’t something they brought up when they talked, but that truth was always there on the line with them. “Now can we stop with the mushy shit? I’m trying to watch the race.”
Quinn dropped against the back of the couch and laughed. “Sorry. Me man. Must watch race. Is that how I’m supposed to sound?”
He rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle too.
“Oh shit. You’re laughing. That means I need to work on being masc, right? Should I lower my voice?”
Christian sat back down onto the couch with his friend. He wanted Beck to meet him so badly. He was lucky to have both of them in his life. “No,” Christian told him. “You’re good the way you are. Now watch the fucking race before I kick you out. Holy fuck, he’s in third! See what you made me miss?”
And then the two of them were both on edge, both cheering on Beckett Monroe as he did what he did best, and pulled out a win.