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Pride stickers cover every inch of our helmets—flags, slogans, and one obnoxiously large rainbow heart smack in the center of my forehead.

We even have Pride flags tied to our jackets as capes like Evil fucking Knievel.

We’re a goddamn rolling parade, and the crowd is eating it up.

“Jealous I might like him more than you?” I grin, even though he can't see my face beneath the helmet.

He scoffs over the Bluetooth connecting us. “Fuck, no.”

Liar.

Sharing our ritual pre-show fist bump, Taylor revs his engine first, and I follow suit. We tear across the ramps, flipping, twisting, and flying through the air like we’re untouchable. The crowd’s cheers hit a fever pitch when I land a no-hander backflip clean, my middle fingers in the air.

Our routine runs like clockwork—jumps, midair tricks, synchronized moves that only work because we trust each other. Taylor and I have been doing this shit since we were five years old. There's no one I'd rather have at my back than him.

Well, maybe one other person…

We line up at the top of the ramp, engines purring beneath us as we ready ourselves for the grand finale.

On cue, Devon emerges from beneath the stands, looking every bit as colorful as Tay and I do. My heart rate kicks up when he gets closer, and I nod at them both. “You two ready for the coolest shit we’ve ever done?”

Taylor pumps a fist in the air. “Let’s fucking go!”

Devon sighs heavily, but I can hear the excitement in his voice when he says, “I hate that Salem convinced me to do this.”

Shoving my two-stroke to the side, I hop onto Taylor's, squeezing in behind him while Dev climbs on behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Three grown men. One dirt bike. One death wish.

The crowd freaks out before we even move.

“This is fucking dangerous,” Devon mutters.

“This is fucking legendary,” I correct.

And then we floor it.

The bike screams beneath us as we hit the ramp, launching into the air at full throttle. For a heartbeat, we’re weightless, nothing beneath us but air.

BOOM.

Rainbow fireworks explode in the sky, crackling in every color imaginable. Cannons fire at the same time, showering the crowd with glittering rainbow confetti. It catches the floodlights, turning the world into a swirling galaxy of color.

Taylor pulls up on the handlebars, tilting us into a backflip that has me leaning into Devon's chest, the world spinning around us.

Once.

Twice.

Three fucking times.

The whole stadium erupts.

I feel Devon’s arms tighten around me, hear Taylor’s breath hitch as we spot the landing, every muscle locked, every instinct screaming.

We hit the ground hard, tires screeching, balance teetering for a fraction of a second before Tay corrects. The moment we stabilize, the crowd goes ballistic.

Skidding to a stop, Taylor practically falls off the bike, cackling so hard he can’t breathe.