Forget You (9 page)

“Sounds good. I’ll bring the wine. I have to
head to the grocery store anyway,” I insisted.

“All right, see you soon.” Paige smiled.

“Bye.” Lauren waved.

Pushing the glass door open, a blast of icy
wind slammed into my face. Ugh, I hated the cold. Rushing to my
vehicle, I climbed in, Sawyer’s guy smell wafted to my nose and I
inhaled deeply. I glanced at the passenger seat, remembering our
little talk on the way to MacDonald’s this morning. A smile
stretched across my face at the thought of our texting conversation
before that. I couldn’t believe he didn’t like coffee. It was a
mind-blowing notion to me. I lived for my cup of coffee in the
morning.

The desire to send him a quick text, asking
how his day was going or something, anything, was nearly
overwhelming. Popping my Escape in reverse, I was suddenly thankful
for girls’ night, because now I wouldn’t be tempted to seem so damn
clingy. I was never clingy with guys, and I wasn’t about to start
with this one.

SAWYER

The vibration of the handlebars had made my
hands numb long ago. Just like driving my car too fast, racing out
here alone was another thing my parents wouldn’t be happy
about.

This was where it had happened, where Ryker
had taken his final breaths.

In some weird way, being out here made me
feel as though I was closer to him—as if his sprit was with me,
urging me on to make each jump a little higher than the last. If I
thought about it hard enough, I could almost hear him telling me
so.

God, I missed him.

I revved the engine on my Suzuki, and the
dirt beneath the tires spun out as I launched forward. Racing over
the peeks and dips of the crazy track Ryker and I had built when we
were both still in high school, I lost myself in the moment. Ryker
and I had been so proud of this place. This place had been our
sanctuary for years. It was on a piece of property our uncle owned
and never used for anything, out in the middle of nowhere
Coldcreek. Not only had we ridden here, but we’d also hung out with
our friends and thrown many parties here.

This place was home.

Pushing my bike as hard as it would go, I
hunkered down and eyed the bend coming up. At this speed, and with
the ground as frozen as it was, I should let up some. I should move
to the inside, where my tires would have the best chance to grip,
but I didn’t. Instead, I continued forward, knowing I was pushing
it too far. Knowing I was out here alone. Knowing this was probably
what had happened to Ryker.

At the last minute, I let up. My bike slowed
to a more manageable speed. One that was safer. One my parents
would prefer. One that wouldn’t injure me in any way. This was who
I was now—safe. At least on the track. There was a portion of me
that was scared, if I was being honest. Scared that what happened
to Ryker could just as easily happen to me given the right
conditions, speed, and mind frame.

As I rounded the last bend, a couple of
figures standing off to the side caught my attention. Letting up
and creeping to a slow roll, I came to a stop directly in from of
my bystanders.

“Dude, I totally thought you were gonna do
it,” Mitch, one of my brother’s friends, shouted over the engine of
my bike.

“Seriously, you were all hunkered down and
determined-looking,” Tim, another buddy, said.

They had their bikes with them. Obviously, I
wasn’t the only one with a little speed and some sick jumps on the
mind today.

“I thought about it,” I admitted.

“Care if we join you?” Mitch asked. There was
a devilish grin twisting his lips, and the hint of a challenge
reflected in his mud-brown eyes.

I waved an arm outward. “Plenty of room.”

My invitation was all it took for the three
of us to be out there seconds later, shredding through every inch
of the track. It was the crazy ass turn at the end—the one I’d
nearly throttled through before seeing them, the same one that
ended Ryker’s life—that I finally wiped out on. Airborne for only a
split-second, I tucked my limbs in the way I’d always been taught,
and I braced myself for the moment of collision. When my right
shoulder hit the ground before anything else, the vibration of
impact racked through my body, causing my teeth to chatter.

Mitch and Tim were above me as I lay there
motionless on the grooved dirt track. They were shouting things I
could hear, but couldn’t make out clearly. My mind seemed jolted,
stuck in the moment of impact. I wondered if this was what had
happened to Ryker, but only ten times worse.

“Sawyer, you okay?” Mitch asked. He had bent
down at some point and taken off his helmet. “Sawyer?”

The panic in his voice was raw and
unbearable. Why hadn’t he been here to help Ryker? If someone had
been there for him—if
I
had been there for him—he would
still be alive. I was sure of it.

Sitting up, I brushed the dirt off myself and
pulled my helmet off. My shoulder was sore and stiff already;
tomorrow it would be one hundred times worse. That was all I got
though—soreness and stiffness, but not death.

“Yeah, I’m all right,” I insisted without
meeting either of their stares.

Tim nudged my left shoulder. “You scared the
shit out of us.”

“Seriously, man, I thought something was
wrong and I’d have to call an ambulance for you. Jesus. Why’d you
take the damn turn so sharp?” Mitch held out a hand and helped me
to my feet.

“I don’t know. Wanted to see if I could do
it.” I shrugged. There wasn’t a reason why. Not really.

You have some sort of death wish or
something, don’t you?
Eva’s word floated through my mind.

Maybe she’d been right on some sick, twisted
level. It wasn’t as though I thought there was nothing to live for,
or even that I missed my brother so badly I wanted nothing more
than to join him. It was more along the lines of a burning need to
understand.

That was it. I needed to understand.

A list of things surged through my muddled
mind. Why had Ryker been taken so soon? Why had he wiped out so
hard on the one corner he’d built into the track himself because he
swore he could handle it? Why had there been no one there with him
when it happened? Why was he out here so late at night in the
pouring rain racing by himself?

What the hell had happened that night?

I scooped up my helmet, and dusted it off
with my gloved hand. These were all questions I knew I would
probably never have the answers to, but I could still dream.

“I think I’m done for today. Sorry to scare
the crap out of you guys.” I flashed them a half-hearted smile, and
then moved to lift my bike up. “Y’all coming to the Keeton throw
down tonight?”

I was sure my parents had invited both of
them. Mitch and Tim had hung around our house for so many years
with Ryker they were practically family.

“Yeah, we’ll both be there. We just had the
same idea as you about coming here first,” Mitch answered.

“All right, I’ll see you there.” I started
pushing my bike off the track.

“Oh, Sawyer?” Mitch called after me.

“Yeah?”

“Um…we made a pack to never come here alone
since…well, since Ryker died. I think you should stick with that
rule of thumb too, especially after today, man,” Mitch said.

Never had we done such a thing. In fact,
there were times throughout high school when it wasn’t uncommon to
come out here for a little time on the track to blow off some steam
all by my lonesome, and I would find Mitch already doing the
same.

That was before. This was after.

“Call either of us, or even Benny, if you
ever want someone out here with you. You know we’re all always
ready to throw down on the track whenever. Hell, even call Wes.
I’ve seen him out here a few times lately too,” Tim added.

Wes? Out on the track? Wes was never a rider.
Sure he’d come to the motocross races whenever Ryker or I had one,
but only because he said they were the best place to pick up
chicks. He’d borrow a racing jacket or a helmet, and walk around as
if he was waiting for his race to begin while getting numbers. I’d
never seen him walk away with less than three numbers each time.
I’d also never seen him ride a damn bike before either.

“Wes has been out here?” I asked. My face
twisted into a dumbfounded expression.

“Not riding or anything. We all know he’s not
a rider.” Mitch chuckled. “But, yeah. I’ve seen him out here a few
times, paying his respects or something.”

That I could see. Even though it still
surprised me he would do something so sentimental, I could still
see it. The three of us had grown up together, Wes, Ryker, and me.
Instead of being cousins, we were more along the lines of
brothers.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. I wheeled my
bike back to the shed. I’d hired a local carpenter to build it for
me after I sold my truck and decided to drive Ryker’s car. Pushing
it up the ramp, the sounds of Mitch and Tim hitting the track again
filled my ears. At least Ryker would be happy to know that just
because he had passed away here, didn’t mean we would let the place
go unused. Maybe the guys had the same views on it as me—that Ryker
would want to see it put to use no matter what. Hell, a part of me
wondered if he hadn’t been standing there at the corner, saying,
you’ll never get that corner right, you dumbass. You’ll always
have to baby it like everyone else
. A small smile twisted my
lips, and I hoped so.

After shucking off my suit as tenderly as I
could manage, I stepped out of the shed and watched Mitch and Tim
race each other around the track for a moment. Closing the door and
locking the padlock into place, I made my way to Ryker’s car, ready
to head home for a long, hot shower before going to my parents for
the celebration dinner they’d put together for me tonight.

EVA

“Does he have any tattoos? We all know that’s
a mega bonus.” Lauren popped another handful of kettle corn in her
mouth, and eyed me.

Did Sawyer have tattoos? I flashed back to
the mental images of him running through Gareth’s Park, shirtless
and sweaty. While his face was in vivid clarity, his upper body was
not, now that Lauren had flat-out asked a question like that.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, a little
unbelieving that wasn’t one of the first things I’d noticed about
him. Damn, I had a long list of things I needed to find out
tomorrow night.

“That should definitely be on the list of
things to find out. Nothing is sexier than tattoos on a man’s
ripped body, and since he’s an active member in the Guard, he’s got
to be in shape, right?” Lauren set the bag of popcorn on the coffee
table, and reached for her glass of wine.

“Any type of muscles is sexy on a man,
regardless if he has tattoos or not,” Blaire chimed in. “As a
matter of fact, I’d prefer muscles over tattoos any day.”

“Well, so would I, but a girl can dream.”
Lauren reached for a handful of popcorn, and tossed a few pieces at
Blaire. “Besides, my man has both.”

I laughed. Ian was Lauren’s man, and yes, he
did have both, but only because she’d told him time and time again
tattoos were sexy. He’d eventually gotten one of his own. I think
he was the type of guy to know a good thing when he saw it, and he
figured if Lauren was as into guys with tattoos as she claimed to
be, then he best go out and get one. He would do anything for
her.

“Jason only has muscles, and I find him
attractive as all get out,” Blaire confessed with an impish
grin.

“I should hope so,” Paige chimed in. “You are
marrying him in a few weeks.”

Blaire unwrapped a chocolate, popped it into
her mouth, and flicked the wrapper at Paige.

“When did you two get so messy?” Paige picked
the wrapper out of her hair, and set it on the coffee table with
the growing pile from chocolates we’d already devoured.

“I’m glad you find your fiancé so attractive,
Blaire. I’m telling you though, if he got a tattoo to go with his
abs of steel, you would be all over him. You’d probably lick it,
you’d think it was so damn hot,” Lauren said.

Unable to help myself, I laughed at the
mental image.

“As long as he showered, you’d be thinking he
tasted better than chocolate,” I added.

“Moving on,” Blaire insisted. She flashed
Lauren and me a pointed look, one that said she was done with this
conversation. “Eva, tell us more about this mystery guy none of us
knew you were dating until date number three.”

All eyes were suddenly on me, and for a
moment, I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell them it had
been lust at first sight? That every time he touched me, I felt as
though my heart would explode right out of my chest. How could I
tell them that our first date had been so incredibly juvenile I’d
dogged it point blank numerous times throughout the night, but in
the end, it had wound up being the best date I’d ever been on?

“Is he better than the last guy?” Paige
asked. “He was a real piece of work, remember him?”

“Keith, ugh. I’d forgotten all about him. Why
did you have to bring him up?” I crinkled my nose at the memory of
him.

Keith was one of those guys I had dated that
never lost the what-the-hell-was-I-thinking factor. The more I
thought about him, the more power that question gained in my
mind.

“Remember how she dumped him?” Lauren
chuckled. “If I hadn’t already added you to my list of friends
before that night, I
so
would have then. I’ve never seen
such a bad freaking ass break up before.”

I laughed and thought back to it. “Yeah, that
was one of my better ones, I’ll admit that.”

All of us had been at some random party. I’d
gone to the bathroom, and when I came back, I found Keith heavily
flirting with some girl. He was brushing the back of his hand
against her cheek, and gazing into her bloodshot eyes. Yes, I had
been on the rag that night, but it by no means swayed my decision
to dump the loser.