Page 107
Story: Pucking His Enemy
He holds up his hands. “Nothing, if that’s what you need. But you look like a guy about to break something, and I’d rather it not be my face.”
I exhale hard, dragging my hands down my face. “It’s Katarina.”
Aiden doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t raise a brow. Just waits.
“I left,” I admit, the words cutting their way out. “She was asleep. I just… couldn’t do it. I panicked. It was all feeling too real. Too fucking much.”
He leans against the wall. “You ever think maybe real’s what you’ve been needing and you just didn’t know it yet?”
“I don’t even know what itis.What we are.”
“You looked wrecked, man. Like someone gutted you and left you walking. So, figure it the fuck out before it eats you alive.” He grabs my shoulder. "I know what you need…"
This ride ain’t for fun. This was Aiden’s call—said I needed to shake the ice off my spine before Coach benched me for good.
Said I looked like I was skating with a noose around my neck.
He's not wrong. I'm not able to to take the bike out much, but when I do, it's mostly just because I need the wind to beat the fuck out of my thoughts.
Because I need to move before the pressure in my chest detonates and takes half the goddamn team with it.
Our engines rumble as we hit the open highway. Wind tears at my jacket, howls past my helmet. It’s not an absolution. It’s survival. The only thing keeping me from exploding.
Every time her face flashes in my mind—those storm-gray eyes, that wrecked whisper of my name—I throttle harder. The engine growls like it’s ready to tear pavement off the bones of the earth.
We fly past pine groves and open stretches of sunbaked asphalt, heat baking through our gear. It’s loud. Brutal. Everything I need.
I don’t want quiet. Quiet makes room for guilt.
We stop at a rest area near the coast. Aiden parks first. I follow, cut the engine, rip off my helmet, and sit.
“Still feel like running?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Out with it.”
I drop onto the bench, knuckles resting on my thighs. “She looked at me like I belonged to her.”
“She’s not wrong... that's what this PR stunt was for, right?”
“I don’t fucking deserve her.”
“No one ever does, man. Doesn’t mean you don’t try.”
I blow out a breath. “Griffin saw the fucking photos. He aint just mad... he’s ready to scorch earth.”
Aiden cuts his eyes, “Yeah, well, I’ve gone toe-to-toe with that motherfucker more than once. He sees red when it comes to his sister.” He shrugs matter-of-factly. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“He’s not just her brother, Aiden. He’s got clout. League contacts. Press buddies. He wants to ruin me and he can make it happen.”
“And what? You gonna let that stop you?”
I grind my teeth. “No. I mean, If he tries to drag my name through the mud, I’ll give him a reason to watch his fucking back.”
Aiden chuckles, dark. “Nowthat’sthe rookie I know.”
“He thinks I’m using her. Like I’m trying to rub it in his face. Like I waited for this moment.”
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