Page 25 of Let the Light Shine Through

“Gia?” An eight-year-old named Iris tugs on my sleeve while I grip the bars of her nasty Tao Cheetah, checking the brakes. This one isn’t mine, but her dad has no idea how to maintain the expensive machine, so I always do an inspection on it before letting Iris loose on the track. “Who’s he?”

He?

I glance over to see who she’s talking about and what do I find? Roz.

He stayed.

Standing awkwardly near the area where the parents usually sit to watch, Roz is getting appreciative looks from the moms, meanwhile the dads are all up in his business. Is he…? Yup, he’s signing autographs on random shit. With a scowl etched on his face that makes him look like he’s about to be sick.

“I’ll…be right back,” I tell Iris, and jogging over to Roz, I take hold of his arm, apologizing to the man trying to get some snowboarding tips as I pull him away.

“Thanks,” he murmurs once we’re out of earshot.

“Don’t thank me yet, cowboy. I’m putting you to work.”

I give Roz a quick introduction to the motor-pixies, then show him how to check if the chains are tight and the tires are filled. The trails around here are hell on ATVs, so we actually have our work cut out for us.

Maybe it’s a good thing he stuck around.

Streams of excited whispers fill the early morning air with one name mentioned repeatedly—Roz. He’s got one of the younger ones glued to his side, captivated by everything he does, while the oldest ones stay back a few feet, shooting for annoyed indifference, even as they sneak glances at him every chance they get.

I understand though. Roz is hard not to look at. Especially when he bends down to have a conversation with the newbie who just so happens to be missing all four of her front teeth, giving her a challenging lisp that keeps her from talking—even to me—in order to save herself the embarrassment of spitting all over the place. Or when he picks up two giggling girlies at a time after they question his strength.

The man is so standoffish, it’s almost laughable to watch him now, entertaining my little four-wheeling troop. Scratch that, it is laughable. Laughable but endearing, too.

He’s going to make a hell of a dad someday.

Just as fast as the thought appears, I shove it into the same cave I keep other useless topics I shouldn’t waste time thinking about.

I busy my hands, and mind, for the next hour, working until my fingers are covered in grease and my cheeks hurt from smiling so big.

Once all the quads pass inspection, Iris pipes up again, asking, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Beside me, Roz clears his throat, but this time, I know it’s not from underuse.

“Why? You wanna steal him from me?” I ask her, and the collective snicker that follows gives me my answer.

“Tell you what…first one across the finish line gets him for the day.”

All of them, even the older girls, scramble to mount their four-wheelers as I free another smile of my own, knowing the feeling all too well. I’ll be riding soon enough.

“For the day, okay?” I remind the animated bunch, then brave a sideways glance.

Roz is wearing the same expression he had the moment I first laid eyes on him—pure panic. But in a charming, not even remotely fair, kind of way.

“Ready for a girlfriend, cowboy?” I tease as I shoulder past, aiming for the starting line.

He catches up to me but doesn’t bother with a response. Not that I need one. I’d bet my rebuilt Raptor he’s never had a serious girlfriend before. His admissions last night basically confirmed it.

Lucky for him though, that’s not about to change on my watch.

Fully aware of the stare coming from my left, I raise my arms, counting the revving racers down before shouting, “Go!”

I pivot to watch the line take off, but when I sneak another peek at Roz, he’s not looking at the track at all. He’s still watching me.

“So? Was that some kind of community service sentence or something?” Roz asks, twisting the pink and purple bracelet on his wrist as he drives one-handed.

Seconds after the race started, two girls simultaneously drove off-track, forcing me and Roz to fly into action, getting them back into the game before they could lose too much time. Then…it happened again. And again. And again. We were so busy returning stray riders to the track, we almost missed a towheaded cutie with baby fat still coating her cheeks take first.