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“Want to listen to some music?” I ask. I hate the quiet, even with her here. There’s too much to think about.
“Yes.” She nods, resting her hand on my chest again.
“You pick,” I tell her.
Taking the phone from me, she scrolls through my Spotify list. She presses play, and I smile as the first chords of one of my all-time favorite songs fills the room. “Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Her lips press against my pecs and my dick twitches.
“I do have happier songs on there.” I laugh.
“No,” she says, closing her eyes, snuggling against me. “This is perfect.”
Her mouth moves as she whispers the lyrics.
“I love this song,” she tells me, resting her hand on mine. She holds my stare humming along with the tune.
She closes her eyes. Tears escape from under her lids, and she quickly tries to wipe them away. I want to ask her what is going on, but something makes me hesitate. Sky falls asleep with her head on top of my chest. Turning the surround sound off, I trace my fingers across her ribs and sing the words to the song in my head. She is everything, I think as I close my eyes. Shorty is going to be my last race.
The next morning, I wake with a start. Stretching, I try to take Sky into my arms but my hands grab nothing but air. Sitting up, it hits me. I’m alone in my bed, the tangled sheets and her lingering scent the only testimony to what we did last night.
I brush my hair out of my eyes and groan, hating my empty room. After stumbling out of bed, I take a shower and throw on a shirt and shorts. I swear under my breath. Why did she leave before I woke up? Glancing at the clock, I sigh. It’s almost nine in the morning. Time to teach.
Drew is already waiting at the track when I head outside. “Everything okay?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.
I nod. “Yeah, fucking fantastic.”
“Who bit you in the ass?” he asks.
I shake my head, giving him a knowing smile. I take the clipboard from him, and ten little kids walk up to us with their parents in pursuit.
“Hunt?” Drew asks. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Let’s get on with it.” I grunt and say hello to the rascals. Drew rolls his eyes, and leaves it alone for the rest of the morning.
The lesson goes by in a blur. While me and Drew explain a couple of new techniques for the whole damn hour and a half, I think about Sky. Even when I’m saying goodbye to the munchkins, my mind is somewhere else.
“Hunter?” one of my best pupils asks.
“Yeah, Cody? What’s up?” The kid follows me around while I make sure each piece of equipment is accounted for.
“Can you help me on Friday with the new jump we tried out?” he asks, lowering his voice, probably trying to sound older than his nine-year-old self.
This kid is focused on the track. Off the track, his mother has a difficult time keeping him in check. I’m probably the only male figure who he actually listens to.
“Sure, man, we can go over it again,” I tell him. He’s young but already a promising rider, and most of the time, also a pain in the ass who beats me when I’m not paying enough attention. I saw Cody ride in Huntington Beach a year and a half ago and was blown away by his flawless style. He has all the chops I didn’t even have at his age to make it.
“Come on, Cody,” his mom calls from the stands. She’s a beautiful redhead who worked three jobs so Cody could ride with me. After I found out, I let the kid ride for free so she could spend more time with Cody, she is the reason why I started to do this pro bono work for all the little shits we’ve got under our wings.
“How are you doing, Quinn?” I ask, shaking her hand. Quinn is only a couple of years older than me. Pushing her Wayfarers up into her hair, she flashes me a wide smile. “I’m doing okay. Thanks, Hunter, for everything. Cody loves riding with you.” She beams at her son.
“Mom,” he says. His cheeks flush, like he’s embarrassed she’s telling me this.
I hold out my fist for him. He bumps it. “Always a pleasure, man. Gnarly stuff out there.” I tip my chin to the track.
“Really?” He sounds proud, his long reddish-brown hair blowing in the wind.
Quinn and I lock eyes, and she gives me a wink.
