Ryan grabs the top of my head and shakes it around as if I am a bobble head toy.
“Seth and Kevin looked like they enjoyed your company.”
“Are you jealous?” I ask in a sing-song voice as I poke him in the stomach.
“No.”
“What?” I balk, jerking my hand away from his body and shaking it as if it were contaminated with nasty Ryan germs. “Why the hell not?” He grabs my hand and pulls me onto the rock with him. We are now standing face to face on the rough limestone. Although dark shadows hide his eyes, I know they are boring into mine.
“Let me tell you something, Hana,” he begins. I am thankful for the break in eye contact as he lowers himself into a sitting position on the rock and motions for me to follow.
“My dad has this saying, and he’s told it to me my whole life.” He stares at the treetops as he continues, “And it wasn’t until I got older that I realized just how true Dad’s saying was.”
He looks back at me, smiling as if he knows a secret more important than the meaning of life.
“Well?” I nearly shout. Anticipation seeps out my pores.
“As my dear old dad says,” he clears his throat and then speaks in a deep voice, mocking his father, “Son, she’s going home with the winner. She don’t care who he is, but she’ll be going home with him.” He swallows. “Even if she arrived with someone else.”
A moment of silence passes. Ryan sits next to me with a satisfied look on his face, probably still recalling the so-called wise words from his father. I don’t know what to make of it and am growing frustrated with how everything in this town, including supposed words of wisdom, has to do with motocross.
“I don’t understand,” I say finally. Ryan nudges me with his arm and then rests his chin on my shoulder. I stare straight ahead, afraid of how close we’ll be if I look at him.
“It means the girl will always choose the winner – not some guy like Seth or Kevin – but me.” I give an apathetic shrug and his head bobs, still on my shoulder. He continues, “I am not the least bit jealous of any guy who talks to you, because I know I will win. Not just the trophy, but the girl as well.”
I breathe a long, sarcastic sigh. “You are so full of yourself.”
With his chin still on my shoulder, he leans in and let his lips rest on my ear. My toes go numb and my breathing becomes involuntary as I struggle to remember how to sit still. He chuckles and warm breath floats over my earlobe. And then he whispers, letting the movement of his lips graze across my skin, “You can come home with me when I win tomorrow.”
A tingle shoots down my spine. Ryan is definitely capable of winning the race tomorrow, but so is Ash. And since I am destined to go home with the winner…
“How do you know you will win?” I ask.
“I was hoping you could help me with that.” Ryan turns to face me and wraps his hands around mine. Maybe it’s all the pheromones in the air, but I don’t have a clue as to how I can help him win a race, short of sabotaging Ash’s bike. Of course, knowing Ryan, that may not be out of the question.
“Jim hasn’t let anyone see the track since he changed it up for Nationals,” he says.
The pheromones evaporate from the air and my brain returns to functioning at top speed. Even with the butterflies in my stomach and the tingling in my toes, I knew tonight with Ryan was too good to be true. He doesn’t want quality time with me – he wants quality time with the secret track information. I decide to lie.
“He showed me but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh yeah? How?” Ryan’s thumbs rubs circles in the palm of my hand.
“You know I can’t tell you.” A full minute passes and the smirk on Ryan’s face never leaves. He is staring me into submission. I don’t want to let him win this round.
“That would be cheating,” I add, picking at a loose string on my shorts.
“I don’t have to cheat to win…you know this.” The smirk remains. I shake my head in defiance and without a warning, he leans over and kisses my forehead. “It’s okay babe, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
A roaring fire awaits us as we step through the woods and back on the sand bar. Ryan promised not to mention the secret track changes again but I am sure I haven’t heard the last of it.
There are more people on the sandbar than before we had left. Our fallen tree bench has been taken over by five girls who have to squeeze against each other to fit. Ryan’s truck is blocked on all sides by other vehicles. I check my cell phone for the time and wonder if I will get home before midnight.
Ryan isn’t the only racer here; there are at least a dozen other guys who were preregistered for the races tomorrow hanging out at the lake. Did they not care to get a good night’s rest before race day – National race day?
I think about Ash’s preparations for race days and can’t understand why these guys don’t do the same. Ash works out all day before a race, eats healthy meals and goes to bed as soon as the sun sets to ensure he’ll be well-rested and ready to race. Ash took his fitness regime seriously until Shawn’s accident when Ash started eating fast food and working out less. I hope he will be ready for the race tomorrow, but his chances are slim.
Ryan leans his back against the grill of his friend’s truck that’s parked facing the campfire. He takes my hand and pulls me in front of him in a movement so quick I don’t know where he is leading me until I find my back pressed against his chest. I don’t object. He wraps his arms around me and from here we have a perfect view of the fire.