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The innocence in his eyes shine and his smile breaks through. “Because you’re my best friend.”
Camden shouldn’t have forgiven me for the way I treated him. Hell, Amberly shouldn’t. But they both did. You can tell a lot about someone in what they chose to see in you.
Do I look focused?
I’m not really, because I’m in the staging area, waiting for my run when guess who approaches me?
Rod Mulin.
I didn’t want to talk to Rod. Having a conversation with him is about as appealing as having lunch with Alexandra. But still, and maybe to piss me off, he approaches me before my run.
“Listen,” he begins.
I wink, shifting my position on the bike. “I probably won’t.”
“I know we have our differences.”
Differences? Ha. That’s funny. I raise an eyebrow. “Fuck you. They’re not differences.”
His face reddens. I’ve pissed him off. “I’m sorry, okay. I was a kid and I made a mistake. I think maybe you could relate to knowing what a mistake is like.”
Goddamn. Of course he said that. I shake my head. “I don’t care what you’re reasoning is. That’s your issue.”
I wave to Ricky in the distance. He approaches, leans in over the running of my bike. “What’s up?”
I give a nod to Rod, still staring at me. If he’s waiting on forgiveness, I’m not giving it to him. He doesn’t deserve it. “Get him out of here.”
Ricky leads him the other way just as they begin to announce me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, riding a Honda, competing out of Pasadena California, here’s your X Games gold medalist and 2014 X Fighters world champion, theWild Cat. . . Tiller Sawyer!”
The spotlight moves to me and I wave to the crowd. Closing my eyes, my hands are shaky on the handlebars. I take another deep breath and roll through the launch zone. The next few seconds, my mind floods with thoughts. Ones I can’t decipher. It’s images of me destroying my life over the years and one overshadows the rest of them. It’s when I look up at the Red Bull suite and know who’s watching me.
I have seventy-five seconds.
To impress.
To execute.
As my tires hit the ramp, everything feels exactly right. I ride up the ramp, launch the bike and initiate a 360 flare. In those seventy-five seconds, I do a backflip seat grab, flair 540, and end with the kiss of death backflip and land it with no hands.
You’re holding your breath, aren’t you? Is your heart beating a million miles an hour like mine?
I land it. Like I had any doubt, but still, it’s landed perfectly with no hands. Rolling to a stop, I let go of the bike and raise my hands up in the air and rip off my jersey.
The next ten minutes are crazy with cameras in my face and I can barely catch my breath. I had no idea I could pull that off, let alone land a cumulative score of 99.9. Fuck you, .1 percent but whatever. I’ll fucking take it.
Amberly and River find me in the rider’s paddock after my scores announced.
“I fucking love you,” I breathe against Amberly’s cheek, kissing her.
Things have most certainly changed between Amberly and me. Good things. Not only is there a lot of sex happening, daily, ever since I told her I loved her, we’ve had this connection I can’t describe. Made me want to kick myself for not telling her sooner. I should have told her when I was five, or maybe I did and she didn’t listen. Actually, I think I did and she kicked me in the balls.
You’re probably wondering why I waited so long to tell her. If you are, hello, do you not remember everything I told you about my childhood and well, my own idiocy? In truth, I’m not sure I understood the meaning of the word.
Only now I do. In more ways than one.
Do you see that guy covered in sweat, holding a first-place trophy in his hand? Okay, look at his feet. Do you see the little girl with his eyes staring up at him?