SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(93)

I called him again. I had told him to quit with the expensive gifts and come up with something real. This package couldn’t have cost more than ten dollars, but it stirred up all the right emotions. That first night together clearly meant as much to him as I was now realizing it had meant to me.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” I asked him as soon as he’d said hello. He must have been able to hear the smile in my voice.

Sucking air in noisily through his lips, he replied, “Bad news. I have to be in Argentina on Thursday.”

“Argentina, huh?” I quipped. “I haven’t been there in years.”





James



That changed everything. Summer would be there. I could switch right back into being excited about the race. The only problem was that the anticipation of her joining me made it hard to focus.

Still, Argentina was an amazing country, with a vibe and feel totally different from anywhere in the States. The small town of Termas de Río Hondo was known for its hot springs and spa resorts, but over the last couple of years, it had been revamped by having to host the annual Moto GP at the nearby track, or Autódromo. No grand hotels here, but there was a pretty nice spa called Los Pinos, about fifteen minutes from the circuit, which I usually booked team JSR into, but there was no kind of central hotel hub like you might find at races in major cities.

The local airport definitely felt newer and more modern since we were there last year, but the best car I could rent was still only a Nissan Maxima. As the team arrived, we unloaded the truck from the cargo plane, sorted out transport for everyone, and got on with the business of racing.

Friday was my first opportunity to get on the track. I had a nice morning session, getting everything dialed in. During my first lap after lunch, I went into turn seven a little too aggressively and slipped on cold tires. In the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal. What I wasn’t going to tell Keith and Ray was that I’d been daydreaming about Summer when I should have been concentrating on riding. Like all my other thoughts about Summer, these were none of their fucking business.

We hit the ground at about sixty miles per hour, and I slid along on my butt into the gravel trap, placed there specifically to slow sliding bikes and riders before they hit the tire wall. Laying still on the sharp stones, I wiggled my fingers and toes to make sure everything still worked. So far, so good. I picked myself up and dusted myself off. My leathers had no holes, and I seemed to be okay, so it could have been worse. Except I’d have to wait for a recovery truck to come and haul my battered bike back to the pits.

The problem with gravel traps was that when careening bikes flew through them, they tended to pick up a few pounds of loose stones in their engines, which could make it a little difficult to get them started again. That was racing, though. The wait for recovery meant we missed out on a lot of the practice session, so I cursed myself for not being entirely focused on the job at hand. Still, I couldn’t stop wishing Summer would get here. At least then I wouldn’t have to keep wondering when it would happen.

Back in the pits, Ray and Keith berated me for falling off, while Other James busied himself fussing with my number-two bike, making sure it was ready to go. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just meant we had to start from scratch regarding suspension settings and gearing, all of which gave me a few minutes to look forward to Summer joining me later. Damn, I couldn’t stop picturing her here with me. I couldn’t stop feeling aroused and imagining us together. Most of all, I was screwing up this race because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I needed to get a grip.

She hadn’t told me which day she was flying in, and she wouldn’t let me pay for her flight. She insisted on making her own arrangements. I couldn’t wait for her to join me, though. It had been two weeks, and I still felt as excited to see her as when we first met, grinning like an idiot every time I thought about it. I had a chance to discover all those new things about her. Her past, her future plans, her favorite places to go, exactly where she liked to be touched…

Keith kicked my foot, breaking me out of my reverie.

“You do know I’m your boss, right?” I asked him.

“Yeah, whatever. Just get on your fucking bike.”

*****

It was Friday night, and she still hadn’t arrived. We went for dinner as a team, but the guys noticed I was withdrawn and quieter than usual. A couple of times, Keith and Ray mocked me as a lovesick puppy, ‘taking the piss,’ they called it. It’s a strange English custom that seemed to involve many unfeeling and heartless remarks at my expense, all designed to make me feel like they actually cared. It did work a little, but I was still disappointed. I was starting to feel lost without her, panicking that she may not be coming after all.

Rays of sunshine beamed down onto the outdoor pools of Los Pinos spa to indicate the dawn of Saturday, and despite a couple of tender heads among my race team, we had morning practice, followed by a timed session in the afternoon to determine grid position. The early morning sun was soon replaced by clouds, and a light rain fell for most of the morning, which meant few of us went out. Racing in the rain is no fun, at least as far as I was concerned. And, with it forecast to be dry in the afternoon and on Sunday, there was not much point wasting the tires or fuel. Plus, as Ray pointed out, we didn’t have any more bikes if I wrecked another one.

I sat in the little kitchenette in our truck, trying to watch TV. I studied footage from last year’s race, trying to see where the fast boys found extra drive or went into turns deeper. Only it wasn’t working. It started as idle thoughts, feelings, and sensations I had experienced with Summer that first night together. But my mind turned to less pleasant wanderings. I really knew very little about her. I quickly dismissed thoughts that she might be some sort of femme fatale serial killer or sadistic psycho as ridiculous, but I then started thinking about her reluctance to let anyone in and these strange rules she had. Was I actually condemning myself to a relationship with a self-serving, selfish bitch I was going to have to jump through hoops for, just to have a quiet life?