Slow Twitch - Реинхардт Лиз. Страница 73

When the flag came down, I attempted to smash my brain into a non-thinking position, the way I usually did when I raced, but it wasn’t that easy this time. The grind of the dirt under my wheels, the air off the jumps, the rush of cheers from the audience all felt like these jagged, disjointed moments leading up to a colossal, inevitable fall.

I’d never even considered a wipeout in any race I’d ever run. Now the image of myself ending up with a mouthful of dirt played through my head in gruesome slow motion, tearing through the mechanics that usually grounded me in this really specific web of these kind of mental-math-based guide-maps.

They had been my secret power, these weird sets of formulas that just came over me while I raced and plotted the course with all kinds of precise details I could follow every time. And I followed them to win after win.

In every other race, it was all about weight and speed and height. It was like my body took all the information in and my brain computed fast and hard, then translated all that stuff into information that told me how much I should turn, when I should lift, how far I should lean, and at what point I should just pull back and let myself ride free. It was like an internal geometry clicked through my brain and measured every single move I made, and I always had such a clear, calculated plan.

But this time was completely different. This time the dirt slammed under me with more force than I anticipated. I leaned and felt the skid of the tires, gripping too hard at the loose dirt of the track. I tensed and primed to jump, and landed with a hard thump just a few feet short of what I expected. The crowd’s cheers were a muddy blur in my ears, and my eyes rocked to the sides, tracking the less experienced riders who picked up on my lag and pummeled past my jerky lead.

Bikes zipped by, the screech of their engines unusually loud and horrible in my ears. My concentration flipped to the guy behind me, the one too far on the outside to matter, and the sudden shudder of my bike, which wound up being nothing, but gave me a few seconds of blood-curdling panic.

When the flag finally fell, I was so tired every muscle and ligament in my body ached.

And I realized the flag had fallen for the one bike ahead of mine.

I can’t lie. I was stunned to see the crowd rush some halfwit unknown kid. Who was racing a bike so new the plastic hadn’t even lost its gleam.

Before my confidence took a complete nosedive, I realized I had my own tiny crowd to rush me.

Brenna hurled her body into my arms. “You were amazing! That was such a great race!”

I thought she was just being an awesomely supportive girlfriend willing to tell some hardcore lies to spare my feelings, but her cheeks were all pink with excitement and the smile stretched across her lips was wide and real.

Saxon was loose-limbed and laid-back with visible relief. “I’m glad I didn’t bet on you being first, but that was fucking impressive, man. You get props for winning against the thoroughbreds with that old-ass nag.”

Aunt Helene enveloped me in her flubbery arms, then pinched my sides hard. “Are you an idiot? Next time, you use the better bike and win! The money this family has? You need to make use of it.”

Cadence attempted a manly punch at my shoulder with one slender, tanned arm. Her fist gave a surprisingly hard-hitting wallop. “Congratulations, Kelly. That was a hell of a race.”

“Thanks.” A warm flush made my ears burn, and I was glad it was hot as hell outside, so no one could tell it was a blush. Blushing over second place? Man, I was turning into a sadsack weenie.

“Boys, I’m going to go to the ladies before I head home. I have a big Bingo game tonight, so kiss me for luck.” Saxon gave Aunt Helene a kiss on one cheek, and I kissed the other. She grabbed me close and hugged me hard, her old lady perfume strong and overwhelmingly comforting. “I’m so damn proud of you, Jake. Next time, don’t scare the shit out of your old aunt, okay?”

The girls hugged her, and Saxon offered to walk her to her car, but she brushed him off and informed him she wasn’t an invalid yet. Once she was gone, an awkward silence hung in the air. Saxon offered to help me get my bike in the truck, and once we heaved it in, he brushed the dirt off his clothes and brought up plans for later.

“I got my car back on probation, and I was going to show Cadence a good time, take her on the one-horse town tour. I got a text about a semi-decent hookup during the last lap. There’s gonna be a bonfire over at Shambles’s tonight. It would be cool if you guys showed up.” Saxon searched his pockets again for his nonexistent cigs and scowled.

“A bonfire?” Cadence looked at Saxon with her eyebrows pressed together.

“It’s what country kids do for fun, baby. Burn shit. Drink warm beer. Smoke dope and get high under the stars.” He patted her butt and smiled. “We don’t live all fancy-like, like you city kids. You’re about to get an education in fun, Sussex County style.”

“I, uh--” I started to make up some lame excuse when Brenna cut in.

“I’ve never been to a bonfire.” She and Cadence shared a look of relief, and my chin had to have a dirt rim from my jaw swinging open and hitting the ground so hard. “Like, I’ve been to camp. And my family has had fires in the fire pit, but I’ve never been to a bonfire that was like a party.”

“Never?” I couldn’t count how many bonfires I’d been to, gotten drunk at, been stupid around. Bonfires were a pretty constant setting for some of my worst behaviors during some of my worst years, and even though I didn’t want to relive any of it, I was always game to do something with Brenna that she’d never done before.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Is that weird? I’ve never been to a big house party either. Are they ridiculous amounts of fun? Am I lame and sheltered, and you’re laughing at me?” She laughed at herself, a little embarrassed.

“Blix, you spent the summer pub-hopping in Ireland. You’ve got us beat,” Saxon reassured her. “But you gotta come tonight. You need to show her the bonfire ropes, man. Something about all that lighter fluid makes Jake get all romantic. At least that’s what the ladies always said.” The glint in his eyes was definitely pure dickhead challenge, and he got my back up right away.

Saxon knew he was walking a dangerous line, bringing up my shady past when Bren was around, but she seemed to sense my deep need to knock his ass out and hooked her arm through mine. “Lighter fluid as an aphrodisiac, huh? I’ll have to keep that in mind. So, I guess we’ll see you guys at your-friend-with-the-weird-name’s house?”

“Shambles,” Saxon and I said at the same time.

“Jinx, fucker.” Saxon pointed his finger like a gun at me. “You owe me a beer, bro. See you there.”

Bren watched as he and Cadence walked away, Cadence waving at us as they went.

“Okay. We seriously do nothave to go to this thing tonight. You look beat. Movie night?” Brenna’s offer was quick, sweet, and punctuated with a few hot kisses.

I had my hands on her hips and could already feel myself getting hopped up for more way too quickly. “I am pretty beat, but fuck it. Summer’s almost over, you’ve never been to a bonfire, and it’s my obligation to introduce you to the badass side of Sussex County.” I didn’t want to get dirt on her, but I was having a hard time resisting the urge to pull her closer.

“So you want to corrupt me?” She leaned on me heavily, apparently not caring if she got dirt on the sweet little outfit that hugged every single perfect curve on her body.

“Nope. I like you sweet. I want to escort you into badassary so I can supervise. And kick anyone’s ass if they mess with you.” I kissed her slow and deep, drinking in her taste, loving the soft feel of her hair under my fingers. I groaned and yanked my mouth away from hers when my thoughts went to places too sexy for my limited self-control. “Okay, this parking lot isn’t really an appropriate place for me to jump your bones. I gotta get you home so you can ask Mom about the bonfire.”