Jett

 

I consider myself a nice guy. I don’t curse in front of old ladies, and I hold the door open for strangers. I don’t litter. But right now, I’m about two seconds away from going off on this douche who keeps interrupting me while I’m trying to teach his kid how to perfect his holeshot technique.

The dad sighs for the billionth time since we started this private motocross lesson. “You sure your dad won’t be back anytime soon?”

I ignore him for the time being and lean down until I’m eye level with the twelve-year-old kid I’m tutoring today. His dad signed him up for ten private motocross lessons and my dad, the famous (but old) Jace Adams, who taught him the first six lessons. I’m filling in for all my dad’s clients this week while he’s off helping the other tracks untangle the shitstorm of legal issues they’re having. So far, the kids have been fine having me as their tutor, but this guy’s dad keeps rolling his eyes and making stupid comments about how my dad should be here doing this.

I’m being polite. I am. I tell the kid to lean forward on the balls of his feet and then try it again. I focus my energy on the kid and not his dad because his dad’s a dumbass. Yeah, my dad is the famous Jace Adams from motocross fame like e years ago, He doesn’t race professionally anymore, and guess what? I do.

So, if anything, I’m better equipped to teach this kid, but his dad seems to think I’m some teenage moron who doesn’t know what I’m doing. As if an entire wall of the main building isn’t covered with my first place trophies.

I take a deep breath and push on with the lesson, and when their hour is finally over, I can tell the kid is happy with his progress despite what his dad thinks. I grab a water and check the schedule on my phone. My next client is arriving in five minutes, so that’s not really enough time to run up to the main building and say hi to Keanna. I’ve been home two days and we’ve barely had any time together thanks to the track being so busy. All we have is tomorrow together and then I’m heading back out to another race.

“Brother!” My mom’s voice calls out and I turn around and see her walking up with my little sister in tow. I grin because the baby is freaking adorable –probably the cutest baby on earth—but then I give my mom a look.

“Brother? That’s a stupid nickname.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Well, you’re her brother,” she says. “What else do you want to be called?”

“Jett?” I suggest. “Or something that sounds cool. Not brother. Makes me sound like a clergyman.”

“What about big brother?” she asks.

I nod. “I like that one.”

Brooke is only a month and a half old, so I try not to take it personally when she doesn’t reach out her arms to me when I hold mine out to her. Elijah always wants to come to me when I try hold him, but he’s a year old. My sister is still a tiny little infant, so she can’t do much but cry and lift up her head when she’s laying on the floor. One day she’s going to love me though.

Mom hands her to me and I cuddle her close to my chest. She’s got that cute little baby smell and I know it makes me a total loser to be totally in love with a baby, but I am. A lifetime of being the only child was fun, but this little kid is now my favorite person. Now I know how Keanna feels about her little brother.

I make faces at Brooke and my mom shakes out her arms. “God, I forgot how tiring it is holding a baby for so long. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

I roll my eyes and knock into her shoulder with mine. “Mom, you’re the youngest mom around. All my friend’s parents are like fifty-something.”

She laughs and brushes some of her blonde hair back over hear ear. “That’s about the only good part of being a teen mom. When you were a baby I had the energy to keep up with you!”

We chat a little bit longer, but then my client shows up so I have to give my little sister back to my mom. She knows the mom of the client, so they stay and talk a while.

After my final client of the day, I grab a water bottle from the break room and head up front to where Keanna is working on the computer.

I step up behind her and kiss her neck.

“Babe…” she says softly. “Why do you have to torture me at work?”

“Kissing is torture?” I say, hopping onto a barstool next to her. “Well then, I better rethink my whole making love strategy.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t take her gaze off the computer. “It’s torture when I don’t have time to kiss you back.”

I’m about to flirt with her some more, but my dad and Park come into the building looking exhausted.

“So here’s the deal,” Dad says, placing his hands flat on the countertop. “We’re taking over both summer series from Oakcreek and Three Flamingos. They usually have races on Sundays, so we’re going to do Oakcreek’s races on Saturdays and Three Flamingo’s on Sunday.”

“Damn,” I say.

Dad nods and Park says, “They’re forfeiting all of it over to us, so we’ll be profiting from the races. Since the cops have those tracks shut down, they can’t legally do any business anyway, so we’re just taking over to avoid disappointing the racers.”

“It’s going to be a lot of work, but I think it’ll be fun,” Dad says. “We have Keanna here to kick ass at the front desk.”

She smiles. “Just call me the Supreme Front Desk Lady.”

Dad throws a pen at me. “It’s too bad my damn son had to go get himself a professional job,” he says sarcastically. “I could have used you this summer!”

Park tisks, and they both gang up on picking on me. Luckily, I’m used to it.

 

***

 

The smell of pizza calls to me from Becca’s kitchen, but I tell her I’m not hungry. It’s just after nine at night and The Track finally closed down for the night. I told Keanna to text me when she was free, and she finally did. So although I’m hungry and that pizza smells good, I just want to see my girl.

I head to her bedroom but it’s empty. I walk back into the hallway and to Elijah’s room in case she’s in there, but the baby is fast asleep and she’s nowhere to be seen.

“She’s in the shower,” Becca says when I walk back into the kitchen.

“No she isn’t,” I say.

She points up to the ceiling. “She’s upstairs. The shower downstairs doesn’t have good water pressure and Park’s supposed to get someone to look at it, but you know how damn busy he’s been.” She shrugs. “It might me months before it gets fixed.”

“Oh okay… I’ll just wait for her,” I say. I grab some pizza to eat while I wait, and before Becca gets out, my dad calls.

“Can you run home real quick?” he asks.

I suppress a groan. “What for?”

“I need help moving some pallets into the garage.”

I try not to be an asshole about it, but all I want to do is complain. I’ve barely seen my girlfriend this week, and what’s worse is that I head to Florida tomorrow for a race and I haven’t practiced at all this week. Literally. I’ve been so busy taking over dad’s clients and helping with the track that I haven’t touched my bike once, and now that I know I’m leaving tomorrow, I’m starting to get nervous about it. The other Team Loco guys will have been riding all week. Now I’m rusty.

After helping Dad move a shit ton of heavy crap in the garage, I call Keanna but she doesn’t answer. I check my messages.

 

Keanna: Mom said you were here?

Keanna: Everything okay?

Keanna: I’ve been up since 4…can’t keep eyes open… love you

 

I sigh and drop the phone on my bed. I was gone too long and now she’s asleep. I missed another night of being with her thanks to being too damn busy at home.

I know she has to be up early tomorrow for work, so although I kind of want to sneak over there and crawl into bed with her, that would be selfish as hell to make her lose sleep.

So instead, I bury down my disappointment over missing my girl and I head outside to the shed where my bike is. Sure, it’s almost midnight, but I’ve got an itch to get out on the track and let out my frustration. Last minute practice is better than no practice, after all.