Motocross Me (Motocross Me 1)

“Hey,” he smiles, “Are you Hana?”

“Yep…that’s me.” I stare into his eyes because the rest of his body makes me want to cry. I could kill for a conversation muse right about now. “How did you know? I mean, I haven’t really known you long.” Great, Hana. Let’s rip open fresh wounds and mention that horrible day his entire life changed.

He grins in the way Ash often does. He’s missing two teeth.

“I don’t remember you, sorry. But I was told about you, and how you saved me by calling Ash for help.”

“Yeah… you scared me that day,” I scratch my elbow again. It isn’t itching, but I have nothing else to do with my hands.

“Ash told me you’d be the prettiest girl here, so I knew right away who you were.” My eyes go wide and I can’t shake the smile from my face. What does a girl say to that?

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah, and he wanted me to make sure I told you he said that.” He glances to the right, and I follow his gaze. Ash is only a few feet away, hidden by a tiki candle. He’s pantomiming the slitting of his throat. When he sees us looking at him, he stops, but if he was embarrassed, he doesn’t show it as he slides a hand over his dreads and steps out of the shadows.

“Thanks, little brother,” Ash bends down, puts his arm around Shawn and speaks to him loud enough for me to hear. “Next time, be a little more slick.” Shawn rolls his eyes.

“You think I can get out of this baby chair now? I can walk you know,” he says the last part to me.

“I think you should just stay there and keep Mom happy, okay?” Ash squeezes his brother’s hand and all he gets in return was a groan, another eye roll and a drawn out, “Fiiine.”

My bangs stick to my forehead as a damp breeze sends goose bumps down my arms. The makeup I so lovingly applied hours ago is coated in a layer of humid dew. Ash suggests that we go for a walk. We end up in the two-story metal garage that doubles as his father’s small engine repair shop and Ash’s motocross storage. Motocross trophies and plaques with dates ranging from ten years ago to the present day line the walls.

Ash watches in silence as I look over the plaques, reading a few out loud. I turn toward him and he’s sitting on a bench wearing that sideways smile of his. I straddle the bench and bend to pick up the dumbbell on the floor. It doesn’t move, even when I struggle to lift it. Ash bites his bottom lip, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile.

“It’s no use, girlie.” He crosses his arms and shakes his head, watching me struggle to lift the damn thing. I bend forward and grasp it with both of

my hands. I close my eyes and concentrate. I visualize the weight lifting off the floor, and pull. Nothing happens.

Sighing in defeat, I give up. “I know what this is. It’s a gag weight. It’s cemented to the floor and it’s just a joke, right?”

He kicks it, and it slides a few inches across the shop floor. “It is in fact a very real weight, and it can easily be lifted if one can lift fifty pounds.” Ash mimics the motion of lifting the weight with one finger and sits next to me on the bench. “Of course, I don’t want to put you to shame so I won’t lift it.”

“Go ahead and shame me,” I say. His leg touches mine on the small bench. I could make him lift weights all night if it means keeping him this close to me.

“Okay then, let me mentally prepare myself as you did,” he draws in a sharp breath, flexes his fingers and blinks once, mocking me. “I’m ready.”

He grabs the weight and curls it easily as the veins in this forearm twist into gloriously hot shapes. For one terrifying moment, I’m afraid I’ll collapse dead on the floor from how ridiculously hot he is, so I glance away to cool my jets. A dusty clock on the wall says that it’s just after ten. How the hell is it already that late?

I have to go home, like, several minutes ago. I try not to let my face show my disappointment, but I feel cheated. After all, tonight was the night, right? It was the night I had visualized all week and so far nothing has happened. Ash never asked me to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t kissed me, and worse, he hasn’t even hinted at possibly maybe some point in the near future, he might kiss me.

I have to intervene and ensure this night gets the ending it deserves.

“You should kiss me.”

“What?” The weight drops to the floor with a crack. It’s a simple enough request, but Ash stares at me as though I asked him to break into the White House and kidnap the president. He leans back, pulling himself out of my personal space. His total shock at the idea of kissing me makes my heart fall straight out of my chest and land on the floor with a bloody thump. Had he not been thinking the same thing? If guys only have one thing on their mind, but how can this be true when Ash is mere inches away from my lips and he isn’t planning to kiss them?

I blink and my eyes grow warm and watery. Tears beg to be released down my cheeks but I hold my breath and pray they won’t come. A few moments pass and I stare at the trophies against the wall. His eyebrows return to their normal position and then his whole face sinks.

“I’m sorry, did you think-“

“I don’t know what I thought,” I interrupt him and swipe a hand across my eyes so as not to reveal the tears I’m wiping away. “I just thought we were on the same page.”

“We are…but…” He slides his hand over mine and I jerk away. “I haven’t even taken you on a date yet, Hana.”

“So?”

“So, this just isn’t the right time or place–” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not romantic.”