Page 7
Story: Persistent (Adrenalin #3)
Chapter four
Axel
I whip through the trees, getting a feel for the trail and the dirt.
It’s early season so nothing is bone-dry, although some places are a little damper and softer than I’d like.
Fortunately, as long as the trail is merely damp instead of wet, there isn’t a slip hazard that can take me out or clog the gears on the bike.
After a few passes, I have a better sense of where I need to stay technical and where I can add some style. I give Jace, my cameraman and best friend, my input so he and the other guys can set the cameras then find a log to rest on while I wait.
Munching on a protein bar, I watch him set up and test the equipment.
Though I’d rather just ride instead of getting video footage, I’m grateful to have time away from the arena and the chaos of competitions.
I love flying through the air, tricking out jumps to the roar of the crowd, but man-made tracks don't come close to these open spaces, mountains and trees as far as the eye can see.
Riding out here is rejuvenating. A lifeline of sorts, since the constant travel for competitions is starting to wear on me, making me seriously consider where I might want to try living full-time .
I wonder… What would Jace say about my burnout? He’s been on the road with me since day one, my best friend before that, and he’s one of the only people who knows me beyond the guy who can slay it on a bike. Usually, I tell him everything, but I haven’t told him this.
Jace likes being on the road. He loves the adventure of travel as well as the anonymity of being the cameraman instead of the guy on the podium.
Even though we’ve been at this over a decade, he doesn’t seem to be tired of the constant movement, and I don’t want to take that away from him.
I can’t see him objecting to a less hectic schedule, but does he want to put down stakes? I’m not sure.
He grew up with them in a way I didn’t, so he might not crave them the way I’m starting to.
Hell, I’m not even sure he’d understand where I’m coming from since his family took me in and helped raise me, so he’d probably make the case that my upbringing wasn’t exactly unstable compared to his.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it’s not the same thing.
Regardless of how good they were to me, and they were great, they weren’t my family. Their house wasn’t my home. I’m pushing thirty and haven’t really felt anchored, and the more I think about it, the more I think an anchor is something I want.
Jace signals that he’s finished and I suit up for another lap, wondering briefly if we’ll get what we need on this trail today.
It would buy me time to just ride, to enjoy the trip down the mountain without a checklist of features I need to hit along the way.
I can't even remember the last time I rode for fun.
Reaching the top of the run, I rev the engine—Jace will add music to the film later, but a good engine roar is always a crowd pleaser—and I start on the trail, flying through turns fast enough to give my body the illusion it’s floating.
I can never get enough of this sensation; the wind rushing past my face, the burn of the muscles to keep the bike steady, even the power of the engine between my legs.
It’s grueling and exhilarating at the same time, making my body come alive.
Cameras like it too, if video sales are any indication.
I’d still love a day without all the filming, though. Maybe even one with a certain blonde on the back of my bike. His hard cock pressed up against my back while his arms are wrapped tight around my waist. A hand ghosting over my dick. Shit !
I carry too much speed into a curve, kicking up a bunch of dirt as I brake through the turn. The bike wobbles underneath me, although stepping on the gas has me shooting forward before gravity can take me down. Damn that was close.
This is why I can’t let my mind wander while I’m on the bike.
Unfortunately, even after that little bobble I can’t get Lennon out of my head.
Is that because of the sex, because he’s a man, or because he speaks to my competitive side?
Either way, I do get a sick thrill out of trying to make him accept what he’s clearly fighting, which is hilarious considering I’m the one who should be kicking and screaming.
I still have no idea why I want him so bad.
Ignoring the obvious gender anomaly, I’m typically the one being chased, not doing the chasing.
And I’ve never, not once, let a hookup stay the night in my bed.
I should be questioning these changes if not fighting them outright, if only because my life and career aren’t conducive to them.
Yet, instead of running away I’m begging for more, and I’m not sure I can put the blame squarely on my competitive nature.
Yeah, I love a challenge, although if I’m being honest, the challenge isn’t the only thing that had me pursuing him this morning. It was waking up with him in my arms and feeling like I’d had the best sleep of my life even though I couldn’t have got more than a few hours.
That’s a scary thought. Being on the bike is usually the thing that makes me feel content, yet I had that feeling in bed this morning, same as I know he did.
I made up some bullshit about orgasms being better than sleeping pills to explain why he overslept, and while I fully believe a good release will lead to a good night’s sleep, now I’m wondering if something else didn’t contribute also.
Something about actually sleeping with someone.
After a few more runs we pack up and head back to the house to go over the footage.
Nick and Trevor, the guys who ride in front and back of me to get moving footage on the trail, head off to shower and get ready for their evening, leaving Jace and I to ourselves.
Although they’re good guys and great riders, I always like doing this part best when it’s just me and Jace.
“Definitely need to keep this wheelie here.” Jace points to the replay of me popping my front tire up on a long, straight stretch. “And the tail whip on this little kicker.”
I watch as the back end of my bike flings around when I go over a jump, a tiny little tail whip to add some extra flair.
Even if you aren’t a motocross fan it looks good, but for those who ride they know how impressive it is to huck a three-hundred-pound bike around in midair, and Jace captured it perfectly.
“Whoa, what’s this?” Jace points at the wobble I had when my mind wandered to Lennon. “Was it slick there?”
“The ground was a little soft.” While that’s true, it wouldn’t have been an issue if my mind had been on the bike.
Jace leans back in his chair and watches that part several times over.
“I’m torn. On the one hand this is supposed to be a highlight video, so this should probably get cut.
On the other hand, it shows a nice recovery.
Amateur riders might appreciate seeing how a pro escapes a near miss. What do you think? ”
If that bobble was a result of trail conditions, I’d say keep it in, but it was my own distraction that nearly sent me sideways, and I don’t want to put a spotlight on my stupidity.
“What if we have an outtakes section at the end, during the credits or something?”
“Chances are that’s the only one we’ll have. You don’t usually let the bike get the better of you.” He rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingertip. Jace is right. I find myself growing ashamed over my mishap and hope he can't see it on my face.
“We can put everyone’s outtakes in. Between the four of us there are bound to be more.” I make a quick recovery to mask what's going on inside.
“Maybe.” He nods thoughtfully, none the wiser to my lame misdirection. While that works in my favor, I feel a little guilty about it.
Jace is my best friend. My bisexual best friend, so if I needed to get anything off my chest without judgment, he’s my guy.
Plus, we don’t really have secrets from each other, so there’s no reason for me to avoid the truth.
But I don’t want to tell him about Lennon.
I’m not keeping quiet because I’m scared or confused or ashamed—if anything, the absence of those emotions is bigger than what happened last night—I just want to keep the guy to myself a little longer.
And I don’t want to analyze why that is. Not yet.
“I’ll see what outtakes we have to work with once we have all the footage. Speaking of—” Jace turns to me “—we need more off-bike stuff. Plotting out our rides, checking out the town, relaxing at the house.”
This part of shooting a movie has always bugged me.
It’s supposed to be about the ride, but more and more people are including candid moments off the trail.
Sponsors think it will humanize us, make us more relatable to fans, and in a way, I get that.
But I hate having a camera in my face when I’m trying to eat breakfast or relax on the couch.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll take a few quick shots while we’re out tonight. We hit up a bar yesterday that seemed pretty cool. Popular with tourists and locals. It had a good vibe.”
“Can’t tonight.” I shake my head firmly.
“You got big plans?” He shuts off the monitor and starts hooking the cameras to their chargers.
“Not really, just feel like hanging here.” I tip my chair back and bounce on the legs, trying to act casual. “It’s not often we have an actual house to crash in instead of the trailers. Figured I’d enjoy it.”
“Planning to enjoy the same chick that slept over last night?”
Does my devil sound like a girl when he comes, or is Jace playing dumb to give me space?
Dammit. This would be the perfect time to come clean, but my mouth moves before I have time to consider what it’s saying. “You see a chick here this morning?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7 (Reading here)
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40