The bad thing about Bayleigh’s situation is that I can’t call her the next morning and tell her how much fun I had on our date last night. I’m sure she knows how I feel, but I hate not being able to tell her. And on top of that, I can’t go see her today. I think about leaving a note on her front door, but her grandparents might think I’m a crazy stalker or something, so I leave my house at five in the morning and hope she doesn’t feel like I’ve abandoned her.
I found out last night that my racing agent flew in from California last night to go to a race at a track here in Texas. It’s in a town called Mixon, and I’ve never heard of it at all, but after a quick google search I realized it’s becoming a pretty big deal in the motocross world. They’re actually having a regionals race there, with plans of hosting a national race next year.
Since my agent promised to get me back in the good graces of the race commission and then promptly stopped answering my calls, I figure there’s no better way to talk to him than by finding him in person. Mixon is a few hours away from Salt Gap, but at least it’s in the same state. I leave early and I drive straight there.
I pay an entry fee to the girl who looks totally bored to be working there, and then I park and start looking for him. The races are getting ready to start, so there’s a ton of people here, and most of them are eagerly waiting for a good day of racing. There’s exhaust in the air, and bikes zooming around everywhere. It makes my chest ache to be on my own bike.
Unfortunately, the entire fucking trip is a waste. I don’t find him on the first day, so I get a hotel and stay for Sunday’s racing. I finally run into the bastard and he tries dodging me, saying he’s busy working with some of his Texas clients.
In the end though, I get the answer I’d been dreading. He said he tried his best, but no one wants me racing for them any time soon. I’m considered a hot headed asshole. Someone who isn’t a good influence on kids, and most organizations want to sponsor guys who kids can look up to. It’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask me.
I can’t believe I wasted two days on this shit. The only part that was kind of worthwhile was when I talked with the track’s owner. He told me if I ever quit racing, I’d have a job at his place. I could give motocross lessons or something. It all seems kind of weird to me, but I guess he had a point. If my agent is right, everyone kind of hates me, I might not get to race again. But try not to think about that very long because racing is my life.
It’s nearly five o’clock when I get back home and all I’m thinking about is her. Well, her and punching a wall. Both sound like great options right now. But I choose her.
I don’t even waste any time. The second I pull into my driveway, I cut the engine and jog over to her house.
Her grandmother opens the door and seems surprised to see me here. I hope Bayleigh isn’t pissed at me for going MIA for two days. Maybe she told her grandmother about it and now they all hate me.
“Bayleigh!” she calls out, leaving the door open but not exactly inviting me inside.
Bayleigh comes into the room and stops cold when she sees me. “Shit,” she says, her cheeks flushing. “Sorry, um—” She’s staring at me like she’s seen a ghost. “I’ll be right back!”
“You’d better,” her grandmother calls after her. “Sorry about that,” she says to me. “Teenagers…” she shakes her head. I’m not exactly sure why Bayleigh ran away like that, but it probably has something to do with how she was wearing pajamas.
“I’ve come to ask Bayleigh to dinner,” I say in an effort to knock out the uncomfortable silence.
“That would be lovely,” she says, giving me a genuine smile. She turns and yells up the stairs, “Your visitor wants to take you to dinner! Please dress appropriately.”
A few seconds later, Bayleigh comes running down the stairs, dressed in tight jeans and a black shirt that makes her look knock out gorgeous. The girl must have done this to me on purpose. We say goodbye to her grandmother and then walk out to my car. I open the passenger door for her and she grins up at me as she gets inside.
“So where are we going?” she asks.
“There are literally no good restaurants in town. And I know because I’ve been to every single one,” I say as I buckle my seatbelt. “So I was thinking we’d head out of town and hit up this steakhouse.”
“Out of town? Like how far?” she asks while she gazes up at the sunroof. “I'm not sure what my curfew is or anything.”
“I've got it taken care of.” I reach up to the sunroof and pull back the cover, revealing the evening sky. “There you go.”
She smiles and closes her eyes, letting the evening sun shine on her angelic face. I’m glad she’s not pissed at me for disappearing the last two days.
“I’ve had one hell of a time,” I say with a sigh. A breeze whips through the car’s sunroof and I reach over and brush the hair out of her eyes. “But seeing your pretty face takes all of that away.”
She doesn’t ask anything about where I’ve been. And although I didn’t want her to get upset with me, it’s kind of weird that she doesn’t care. A shock of jealousy rises up in my chest. Did she spend the time I was gone talking to that other guy?
I stew over this for a little while. Finally, all I care about is that I’ll get to kiss her again. I need to feel her lips on mine, because that’s when I truly know what she’s thinking. She liked me on the ferris wheel. I hope she still does.
When we reach a red light, I come to a complete stop as fast as I can. “Finally,” I say urgently.
“Finally what?” she says.
I lean over and kiss her. All my fears are taken away the moment her lips meet mine. She grabs my arms and holds onto me and kisses me back with all the same passion she had a few days ago. When we pull back, I make fun of her glittery lip gloss just to tease her.
“Sorry,” she mumbles.
She is so sweet it’s insane. I lean over and place a kiss on her neck. She sighs softly, and it only encourages me to kiss her again, and again, trailing my lips down to her collarbone.
The car behind us honks loudly, startling me and ruining the moment. I look up and the light has turned green.
“Whoops,” I say as I step on the gas.
Bayleigh’s grin is lopsided, her gaze woozy as we drive off. And now I finally have my answer.
She likes me as much as I like her.
* * *
The restaurant seems pretty nice, so I’m hoping it’s as good as the online reviews say it is. There’s a basket of freshly baked rolls in the middle of our table and I grab one and cover it in butter. Bayleigh watches me.
“So how’s your knitting going?” I ask her. I seem to remember her telling me her grandmother was teaching her how to make a blanket.
“You mean crochet?” she says, watching me.
I shrug. “Same thing, right?”
She laughs. “I crocheted a blanket, and it’s pretty awesome. But knitting is so not the same thing. I’ll let you slide this time, but don’t let Grandma hear you talking like that.”
“Understood,” I say, then I pretend to zip my lips closed. “So where do you normally live? You know, when you aren't banished to your grandparent's house.”
“I'm from a small town near Dallas,” she says.
My heart leaps. Mixon is near Dallas. “Does it happen to be Mixon?” I ask, hoping like hell that her answer is yes.
Her eyebrows pull together. “Huh? No, I’ve never heard of that place.”
I take another bite of my roll. “Eh, I figured as much. No one lives there.”
“What's Mixon?” she asks. “You're from LA, right?”
“Don't worry about it, I'm just…thinking out my options. So,” I say, realizing I need to change the subject before I get all pissed off about motocross. “How was your week?”
“Well, I learned how to crochet and I made myself a throw blanket. So, obviously, my week was insanely action-packed and you should be sorry you missed it.”
I smile. “I missed you. I wish I could have called or something but…” I point at her and give her a playful grin. “Someone got themselves grounded.”
She starts to say something and then she blushes. Luckily for her, our waitress brings our food so the pressure is off her.
“You never answered my question about Mixon,” she says after a few minutes.
I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Mixon is a tiny town much like this one, but it's different because Mixon is super famous for its motocross track.”
“Oh. So are you going to go ride there or something?”
I shake my head. I can’t think about that right now. I can’t give up on my dream of going pro. But when I look up, Bayleigh is watching me curiously and I realize I care about her too much to just leave her hanging like that. “I spent the last few days in Mixon. They were hosting a nationals race, and my agent met me there. He was already going to be there and it's just easier to see him at the race than to fly back to LA for a weekend, even though he assured me that either way I saw him would be pointless.”
“Why’s that?” she asks.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. As much as I want to run from the truth, I guess it’s time to face it. “I guess my career really is over. He claims he did everything he could to get me back in, but no one will allow it. I've been all but excommunicated from professional motocross.”
“Excommunicated?” she says, lifting an eyebrow. “That's a thing in motocross?”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Bayleigh. Your gullible is showing again.”
* * *
After dinner, I ask her to come back to my house for a little while. She agrees, and I’m happy to spend the time with her. Every second with Bayleigh is a second I’m not stressing about my career. Even though I’ll be going back to California after this summer, I can’t help but hope that she asks me to stay.
Would I stay?
I can’t really answer that question right now. If my career really is as over as my agent says it is, I guess I have no reason to return back home. But every time this thought crosses my mind, my heart rips in half again. This can’t possibly be the end of the line for me. There has to be something else.
When we get back to my place, we settle into the couch. Bayleigh lays her head against my shoulder and everything feels right, even if only for a little bit. We flip through channels and try to find something to watch, but really I don’t care what’s on. I just like being cuddled up next to her.
And then my mom calls. Ugh. “It’s my mom,” I say, giving her an apologetic look. “I’ll be back in a second.”
I duck into the other room to take her call. She just wants to chat, as I suspected, but if I hadn’t answered then she would have called me back again and again, because that’s just how my mom is. I listen to her stories and try to be a good son even though I’m desperately dying to get back to Bayleigh and feel her soft skin in my arms again.
When Mom finally tells me goodnight, I hang up and walk back into the living room. Bayleigh isn’t there, so I look around and find her in the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table, playing on my iPad. I watch her. She frowns and then types something, waits, and frowns again. Then she replies again. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s talking to that guy.
My chest aches. I really thought she was into me, but I guess not. I head back into the living room and sink into the couch, feeling defeated. A few minutes later, she puts down the iPad and looks up at me.
“Why can’t you just forget about him?” I ask.
“You don't know who I was talking to,” she says defensively. She sits across from me on the loveseat, which totally kills me.
“Then who were you talking to?” I ask. I’m trying not to sound like some jealous jerk, but I guess I am jealous.
She looks away.
“That's what I thought,” I say softly. “You know I was actually dating this girl before I came here, she was my real girlfriend, not a sort of girlfriend. But I know better than to keep toxic people in my life so I haven't spoken to her since that night at the bonfire. I thought you were on the same page as me, but I guess I was wrong. I guess you prefer guys who treat you like shit.”
She stands up abruptly and grabs her purse off the end table. “Shut up, Jace. You aren't allowed to care what I do. You're leaving. You're going back home, and you're leaving and everything we've done together will mean nothing.”
She storms to the front door and yanks it open. I follow, but she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. She levels a glare at me. “So don't even act like I deserve better than Ian, because better guys don't stay around.”