Page 2

Chapter 2

New Friends

LEVIN

“ H ey guys.” Atlas is waiting by our cars in the racing track parking lot.

“Finally,” Ares wraps his twin brother into a bear hug. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it in time for tomorrow’s race.”

Atlas grins, slapping Chance’s back. “Maybe you didn’t even need me. I’ve heard our baby brother made us proud in my absence. Way to go, dude. I have you to thank for having the pole position in tomorrow’s race.”

The dynamic between the three Hunter brothers has always been interesting.

I observe my best friend’s conflicting emotions playing on his face. On one hand, he’s preening under his older brother’s praise; on the other hand, he’s annoyed at the way Atlas just talked to him.

“I wish you’d stop calling me your baby brother,” he grumbles. “There are only two years between us. You make it sound like I’m ten years younger than you and Ares.”

Yup. Right on cue, Atlas has Chance into a headlock and is rubbing the top of his head with the heel of his hand, chuckling like a lunatic.

“Aww, but where’s the fun if I can’t rib my baby—sorry, younger brother—a little bit every now and then? No seriously, Chance,” his tone turns serious, as he lets him go. “I owe you one. Thank you for covering for me. And I was thinking that if you want me to sit tomorrow’s race out so you can ride my bike, I’m ok with that.”

It’s impossible to miss the surprise on Chance’s face. “Really? But that’s your spot and you hate me even touching your bike.”

“Nah,” Atlas shrugs. “I don’t want you taking my bike for a joyride, but you’re as good a driver as me and Ares, and you proved it today. If you want to race, you earned it fair and square.”

Ares agrees with his twin brother like he always does. “Atlas is right. But regardless of who races tomorrow, you know there’s a spot for you on our team. We can cut you the same deal as Lev and it won’t be inconflict with your hockey schedule. It would be just the Super Bike League, anyway. With our little team, we can’t even think about competing on the traditional pro circuit. That’s why we worked so hard to get contracts with the team of a big constructor for the Moto GP.”

Chance would be too young for the Moto GP anyway, since he won't be seventeen until next year. The junior league would be a different matter, and the Hunter name would get him plenty of offers at least to try out with all the major teams. But unlike me, Chance’s sole focus is on hockey.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” He says to his brothers. “But you know riding a bike is something I like to do just for fun. Today’s qualifier was cool, but it isn’t something I’m interested in pursuing seriously.”

I see the disappointment on Atlas and Ares’s faces, but they’re quick to hide it.

“Fair enough,” Atlas says. “But if you change your mind, there’s always going to be a spot for you, alright?”

His older brother’s approval means more to Chance than he cares to admit; pride is written all over his face when his older brothers treat him like an equal.

I understand that feeling and I’m not the only one in town. The Hunter name carries a lot of prestige in Star Cove, starting with Scott, the guys’ father. As a retired pro hockey player, he owns one of the biggest mansions in town and his talent agency has jump started the career of more than one NHL player.

The twins, his eldest sons, are even more popular than Scott, if possible. They’re the town's golden boys, plain and simple. They’re starting at Star Cove College this fall, and word around town is that Coach Harrison would give both his nuts to have them play for him. Atlas and Ares, however, don’t share the same all-consuming passion for hockey as Scott and Chance. Their real love is racing. Possibly on two wheels and on something that isn’t street legal, like the bikes they ride for the Super League.

I love speed in all its forms, whether it’s on skates, in a car or on a motorcycle. What can I say? I’m a thrill seeker and I’m never gonna apologize about it.

That’s why, despite not being blood, Atlas, Ares and Chance are more like brothers than friends to me.

I share Chance’s passion for hockey and the twins’ love for racing.

Talking about love, another thing we all appreciate is pretty girls. This is where Chance, Ares and I are on the same page; we have fun, but none of us is interested in being tied down any time soon. Atlas is a different story. He has always been in love with the Heather, the Hunters’ next-door neighbor.

They started dating officially when Heather turned sixteen, and I have no doubt that Atlas intends to marry his girlfriend one day. Heather and his twin brother are the only things that compare to racing for him. This much is clear.

“Congratulations on smashing today’s qualifications,” Heather smiles in our direction, but her eyes are fixed on the new girl. “Do you guys have a new fan?”

Her arm circles Atlas’s waist in a show of possession. I don’t envy Heather one bit. While Atlas is totally devoted to her, she has to fend off the advances of every girl and woman in town. So I’m not surprised that she’s staking her claim in front of a newcomer; especially one as pretty as the girl we just rescued from Cal Fox’s claws.

“I’m not—” the girl starts saying, but Ares comes to her rescue. Again.

“We actually just met her. The guys and I stepped in when we caught Fox trying to put his hands on her without her consent. She’s going to stick with us this weekend until we can give her a ride home to Shell Cove. Sorry,” he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes intent on our pretty new friend. “With all that commotion earlier, I didn’t quite catch your name.”

“It’s Zara,” the girl offers.

Heather assesses the new girl for a moment. “So you’re going out with Calvin Fox?”

“I guess I am. Was. I’m done with him. I’m going to let things cool down between us, and then I’m breaking up with him.” She touches her cheekbone, where the red is turning into a shade of blue and a bruise is forming.

Heather’s eyes flash with shock. “Oh my God. Did he hit you?”

Zara’s pretty green eyes drift down to the ground. “He did. I wasn’t in the mood to have sex with him and he…” her voice trails off, embarrassed.

I see the moment Heather’s reservations about the new girl melt away. “Oh my fucking God.” She leaves Atlas’s side to wrap Zara into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Zara. Are you ok?”

At first Zara’s body is rigid, but it doesn’t take long for her to accept Heather’s hug. “I’m not, but I will be. I thought Cal loved me, but I guess I was wrong.”

Heather’s gaze is full of sympathy. “Maybe you can talk and fix things with him later.”

“No, we’re over.” Her tone is determined, her head held high. “If a man even hints at hitting you, you walk away and never look back.”

Fuck .

Zara is pretty. That’s obvious just by looking at her. But her words make me look at her in a different light.

I admire a woman who will stand up for herself and won’t let anyone push her around. That’s sexier than a nice ass and a pair of great tits.

I offer her my fist to bump and she does, our eyes locking for a second. “Well said,” I approve. “No one will respect you unless you respect yourself first.”

The corners of Zara’s lips quirk up in the beginning of a smile. She has perfect, soft looking lips.

“You sound like my mom.”

“Damn,” I chuckle. “Don’t repeat that at the party later. I have a reputation to protect.”

Her eyes flash with concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I actually should thank all of you for helping me. If you guys hadn’t stopped him, I don’t know what Cal would have done to me.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Wasn’t trying to give you a lecture, Zara. I just think your attitude is badass, that’s all.”

Zara smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, right? My mom would be happy you agreed with her. Those are her words, not mine. She’s right though. And maybe I should have listened to her when she warned me against dating a racer. If she knew what just happened with Cal, she would ground me until the end of time. Not just because she would say that Cal is too old for me. She hates anything that has to do with motorcycles.”

Heather intervenes. “Maybe she’s worried about you ending up with a bad boy? Not every guy who rides competitively is an asshole. Atlas is the best example of that.”

“Aww, thanks babe.” Atlas kisses her.

Chance, Ares, and I roll our eyes at them.

“Get a room, you two.” I chuckle.

“My mom would disagree. She hates pro motorcycle riders,” Zara explains, once the happy couple stops sucking face in front of everyone. “She would say that your boyfriend is being nice for now, but once he wins more races and becomes more famous, he’ll change. He’ll cheat and expect you to turn a blind eye to it. He’ll treat you just like another trophy. That’s what she’s been telling me since I was a little kid.”

Ares intervenes. He’s always been the nosy one in our group. “Is your mom’s prejudice based on personal experience? Or is she just buying into the myth of every bad boy riding a motorcycle?”

Zara sighs. “Oh no. She’s talking from personal experience. My dad used to race and their relationship ended up in a messy divorce about eight years ago. Mom is far from over it. To the point that she moved us across the country to put as much distance as she could between us and my dad.”

That piques my curiosity. “So, did your dad just own a bike or did he race?” I ask.

“He raced.” She offers.

“Anyone we might have heard of?” Is Ares’s question.

Zara’s tone is resigned. “Maybe. My name is Zara Fields.”

We all gasp. “Fields? Like in John Fields? The man who has won the most MotoGP titles in history?”

She nods. “Yeah, that John Fields.”

Holy shit.

Zara’s father holds every record in motorcycle racing. He retired about five years ago, but no one has ever come close to even a fraction of his success. Riders like John Fields are born once in a generation or even less often.