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“Dirty drink names?” I arch an eyebrow in Blake’s direction. “This I’ve gotta hear.”

“We got our hands on a drink recipe book and found the dirty drink section.” He twists to face me. “Whoever can put the most names together in a sentence that makes sense wins.”

You’d think with all my travels I’d have encountered this game before, but I’ve never heard of it. “What do you win?”

“Bragging rights. Or a warm bed, depending on whether the tourists we try to impress find it funny or disgusting. What’s your name?” He cocks his head, and I get the feeling he’s trying to figure out why I look familiar.

“Axel.”

“That’s right. You won the X Games last year, didn’t you?”

“I did.” There’s no denying it, although I hope he doesn’t say anything to his friends. I don’t feel like reliving that competition right now.

“What brings you to our little town?” He asks as Lennon sets a beer in front of him.

“Blake Irwin, don’t pretend you don’t know exactly why Axel’s here.” Lennon rolls his eyes with a heavy sigh. “I doubt there’s a person in town who doesn’t know what he and his crew are here for. ”

“I wasn’t trying to creep him out.” Blake holds his hands up in surrender. “Some people like the illusion their business is their own, even when they visit a town too small to be on a map.”

“His business is his own. But he also travels with a crew of cameramen and all anyone’s been talking about this week is where these guys are filming. You know that.”

“My crew is big news?” I cast a curious look at Lennon.

I thought he was exaggerating when he made a fuss about getting caught doing the walk of shame, but apparently not.

This place appealed to me since it’s supposed to be tight knit, like the bike community, but now I’m wondering if it’s more than I bargained for.

“To be fair—” Blake’s voice interrupts my thoughts “—not everyone has cameras following them around. It’d be big news anywhere, but especially here where we don’t have much else to talk about.” He shrugs sheepishly.

That’s a flaw I hadn’t considered.I want a community that takes care of each other, like what I have on the circuit. Not a bunch of nosy neighbors. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to get attached to this town, or the man who makes it so enticing.

“You need another?” Lennon points to my nearly empty bottle.

“Uh, sure.” I tip back the last swallow and exchange it for the full one he hands me, wondering what else people are saying. And why he sort of admitted to knowing me just now when he’s been so guarded about that the last few days.

“See something you like?” Blake follows my gaze to Lennon and looks back at me with raised brows.

I don’t know why that sets me on edge, but I’m instantly defensive. “That a problem?”

“Not for me. ”

“For someone else, then?” I glance sideways at him so I can watch his reaction.

“Nah, he doesn’t have time for it.”

I nod absently, realizing that while I already knew that about Lennon, it makes me a little sad to think his life revolves around work.

But it’s also reassuring, because I’m exactly the same way.

I doubt either of us would call our jobs work, which makes it so easy to get immersed in them.

At what cost, though? I used to think there wasn’t one.

After a few nights with Lennon, I’m not so sure. Damn I’m mixed up.

“It’d be nice to see someone force him to take a break. Help him enjoy life instead of working his way through it.” Blake’s focus leaves the TV just long enough to leave no doubt about his meaning.

“You think that’s me?” I ask cautiously.

“I think he looks at you about as often as you look at him, and I’ve never known Lennon to look at anyone before. Just saying.” He lifts his hands as if to say, “don’t shoot the messenger.”

In my head, I give a little fist pump, relieved by the notion that maybe Lennon’s as intrigued with me as I seem to be with him. Then reality comes crashing down. “I’m not sure that makes me a good choice. I’m only here for a few more days.”

“He’s just a nice piece of ass then, huh?” Blake pops his jaw and takes another sip of his beer, his friendly demeanor eerily absent.

“I didn’t say that.” The venom in my voice surprises me since that’s all Lennon was supposed to be.

“You don’t like him enough to risk getting tied down then?”

My eyes find Lennon at the opposite end of the bar, laughing and smiling down at some kid.

The little guy's jaw hits the floor while gawking at the chocolate shake Lennon put in front of him, which is easily the size of the kid’s head.

It’s a real Hallmark moment–if there is such a thing–though it’s Lennon’s face that has my chest feeling tight as he beams down at the kid.

He's running on empty and still has the capacity to make some kid’s day.

I’m decent with kids. Fans, anyway. I’m not especially drawn to them, but I can hold my own.

I’m not sure I’ve ever made one grin like this kid is, and I damn sure wouldn’t have a matching expression on my face if I did.

That’s just not who I am, unless I'm talking about biking.

Yet I could watch Lennon smile at this little guy all day. If he let me.

He has this energy about him that people can’t help responding to.

Even the tiny ones, apparently. They light up when he gives them his attention, like he makes them feel alive.

I totally get that, so much so that a part of me dreads the thought of giving it up when we go to our next location.

Yet even if I could change my schedule, he’s given me no reason to think he wants me to.

“I didn’t say that, either," I answer Blake. "But even if I were at a point where I could stop moving around so much, I’m not sure Lennon wants that from me.”

I have no idea why I’m admitting this to a total stranger.

Maybe I’m hoping to get more insight since he seems to know Lennon well.

Or maybe I think saying it out loud will make me realize how crazy it is to even consider something more than this little fling we have going on. Either way, it’s the truth.

“He probably doesn’t want that. But what if he needs it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I turn away from Lennon to look at Blake.

“It means the only thing Lennon has eyes for, to my knowledge, is work. But he keeps sneaking glances at you, so maybe that means you’re someone who could get him to ease up on the hours. None of us have been able to do it.” Blake jerks his head to the guys sitting beside him at the bar.

I want him to explain more, but before I can ask, Jace, Nick and Trevor come up behind me.

“Figured we’d find you here.” Nick gives me a fist bump, arching a brow as he spots Lennon behind the bar. I ignore it, just like Jace appears to be ignoring me, and introduce them all to Blake, who introduces us to his friends.

If Trevor or Nick notice the tension between me and Jace, they don’t mention it, and while I’m grateful for that since now isn’t the time or place, it makes me feel like an even bigger jackass.

I’m not intentionally flaunting the fact that I’m here to see Lennon, but it probably looks that way to Jace, and while it kills me that he’s barely acknowledging me, I’m content to play coward for a little while longer.

Until we aren’t surrounded by curious eyes and ears.

Lennon brings everyone drinks, and we all get engrossed in the Red Bull Rampage, cheering when the riders pull off an especially good trick.

Mountain bikes are a hell of a lot lighter than dirt bikes, so these guys can ride terrain and do tricks I’d never dream of, even though we all do similar flips and spins.

I appreciate all the things they do, but it makes me appreciate my sport that much more.

We ride hills that are built to be jumped, while these guys are flinging themselves off the side of a mountain.

When one guy lands a flip over a gap that has to be a few hundred feet wide everyone lifts their arms in celebration, though Jace pulls his down quickly, rubbing his shoulder.

“Shoulder trouble?” Blake asks him.

“It gets sore after holding the camera.” Jace rolls it in circles to loosen it up .

“Let’s see.” Blake stands and puts his hands on Jace’s shoulder, causing him to jolt in place.

Then his eyes roll back in his head as Blake kneads the muscle.

“Yeah, that’s pretty tight.” Blake rubs his palms over his thighs before sitting back on his barstool.

“Swing by the spa before you leave town. We’ll get you fixed up. ”

“You work at the spa?” I ask as Jace rolls his shoulder, testing its mobility.

“Yep. Massage.” Blake nods. “Pay is good, hours are better, and it doesn’t interfere with the mountain bike clinics I run for kids.”

Jace starts to ask about the clinics when movement catches the corner of his eye. “Is that guy okay?” he asks Blake.

Blake turns to see the guy next to him swaying on his barstool. Ryder, I think his name is. “No. His brother just died and he’s trying to drink himself numb. I better get him home.” He shakes hands with everyone and with the help of a third guy, Deacon, they carry their friend out.

I track them until they’re out the door, feeling a pang of sympathy for the guy even though I don’t know him. Lennon said he’d never lost anyone so young, and this guy doesn’t look more than twenty-five, so the brother must have been even younger.

How much life can you live in twenty-five years or less? How much can you experience, especially living out of a trailer? Are you even living? Am I?

The questions come faster than I can process them, all leading me toward the same conclusion. Life is short, and so far, mine has revolved around the bike. That’s not a bad thing, but maybe it’s not the only thing.

“We gonna talk about it?” Jace asks quietly from the seat Blake vacated, which I didn’t realize he’d taken since I was lost in my head. Thinking about Lennon .