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I can’t help but roll my eyes at my best friend. Drew snorts, and I wipe my mouth with a dirty towel. Fuck, I can’t remember her name—it’s Ashley, Ainsley or something.
Drew picks up some clothes from the floor and hands them to her. “Get a move on girls, you can change in there,” he commands, pushing her into the back lounge.
“You too.” The brunette whose name I can’t remember either, whisks her dress from his hands, and pouts.
I stick my tongue out at Drew and he pushes my face away. “Don’t look so smug asshole,” he smirks.
After they change, Drew guides them like a pro to the front of the bus while I grab my shit.
“Later, sweethearts. Duty calls,” I say, giving them a mock salute. “Had a great time,” I tell them as they walk away. The blonde looks over her shoulder, and purses her lips as if I’ve insulted her—faking it, no doubt. The two of them fuck everyone on the circuit. I’d better stop screwing these chicks.
My gaze zeros in on her tits.
Then again, maybe not.
They leave but not before flipping me the bird, and Drew and I burst out laughing.
“Got everything, fucker?” Drew asks, looking around the bus, pushing me outside.
“Yeah, I guess,” I answer, still grinning as Drew and I sprint through the backstage area. We both run as fast as we can toward the grounds before getting stopped by a couple security guards.
“Passes?” one of the guys asks.
I search my pockets for my credentials. “Come on, Andy, we do this almost every damn day.”
He flashes us an evil grin. “And each day, you boys are late, have forgotten your creds, and take too many girls backstage, or in the pits. This is not some circus.”
“Andy,” Drew pleads. “Give us a break.”
Andy sighs, shaking his head. “You guys are lucky I’m in a good mood right now,” he says, and steps aside to let us pass.
“Later, dude.” I laugh, running to our rig with Drew not far behind.
“This is the last time I let you get away with this,” Andy yells after us.
I turn around, making a jerking off motion with my hand.
“Back at you, Cole,” Andy roars, laughing.
Drew snickers. “Hunt, you never learn.”
Shaking my head, I grin. “Half the fun, baby.” Still running, I say hello to a couple guys I know; we’ve been competing together for years. I’ve been bringing home the gold the last couple seasons, and they hate me for it, but we still like to throw back a couple of beers after the races.
We come to a full stop at our black trailer with my name, and all my sponsors’ names printed in big white letters on the side.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Jay bellows, jumping out the back of the truck.
“Hey, Hunt, nice of you to join us,” I say, mocking. “Glad I came, Jay. My pleasure.”
Jay balls his hands into fists, shaking his head. “One day, you’re going to get fucking burned for your antics.”
The old man is already starting to count to ten. I grin. I do it too; it doesn’t work for me all the time though. But Jay’s good people. I don’t mind the guy; I tolerate him even. Hell, he’s like a father to me, but most days, he’s a hall monitor on steroids.
I spread out my arms. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“What the fuck?” he says, examining my face more closely.
“What?” I ask, trying to feign surprise.
