Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Maybe I’ll watch too.”
“You hate sports.”
“You hate sports too,” he countered.
Yes, yes, I did.
“I have a soft spot for motocross, I guess.” I winked at him.
“Eh. Maybe I can use it to bond with Dad. He’ll be here in a bit.”
“I’m glad he gets to come today.” I smiled at him. His dad, Tyson, was killing himself working crazy hours, as many as he could to help with expenses and insurance. He was raising Trey on his own. It was a lot on Tyson’s back to take care of it all.
“Did you, um…did you bring the stuff?” Trey’s eyes darted down.
“Hey. None of that. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, and of course I brought it. Your lack of confidence in me today is a bit crushing. I’m sort of amazing.”
Trey grinned brightly. “You are.”
I pulled five nail polishes out of my bag. He’d never painted his nails before, but it was something he was interested in. He’d asked me about it, his discomfort as obvious as his desire. There was no way I would have told him no. I just hoped his dad didn’t freak out. I didn’t think he would. But it was important to Trey, which made it important to me.
“Which one do you like? I’m going to give you a full manicure.”
He picked out a blue one with sparkles. We chatted as I cut his nails and filed them. Excitement made him vibrate as I brushed the first dash of color on his nails. “Do you…do you paint your nails?” Trey asked.
“Sometimes. Not often, but mostly because of work, I guess. You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think men who wear makeup or nail polish are incredibly brave. It’s a beautiful statement of pride. So you should feel proud.”
“Thanks, Linc.”
“No problem.”
I finished his nails, and he held his hands up to look at them. His eyes watered a bit, and damned if mine didn’t start leaking too. “Soooo?” I finally asked.
“I love it…and I do, feel proud.”
“Good.” I smiled just as someone cleared their throat behind us.
I turned to see Tyson Goldman in the doorway. He was built like a linebacker…well, shit, I didn’t know how a linebacker was built, but he had the body of a really big football player. His tired eyes darted from Trey’s nails to Trey, then to me, and back to Trey again.
Please be okay with this, please be okay with this, I begged silently.
“That, um…that looks nice,” he said, and I let out a breath. He sounded a little constipated when he spoke, but he was trying to understand. He loved his son, and that was all that mattered.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I should let you guys visit.” I stood and began packing up my bag. “I’ll be back to see you soon, Trey.”
I made it a few feet down the hallway when I heard Tyson’s deep voice. “Lincoln.”
Oh fuck. He was pissed. But at least he was pissed at me and not Trey. I squared my shoulders and turned. “Yes?”
“I just… I don’t know about any of this stuff, and I’m still trying to work through it, but…thanks. Thank you for being there for Trey. I just want him happy. Between his mama leaving, the kids at school teasing him, and now cancer… He deserves to be happy.”
I reached out and touched his arm. “You’re doing a great job. I know you’re worried, but you’re doing better than a lot of LGBTQ parents do. Cut yourself some slack. And I’m here…for whatever Trey needs.”
He nodded. “I’m gonna go spend some time with him. I gotta be up early in the morning for work.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
A heaviness sat in my chest on the drive to Ash and Beau’s. The whole situation was fucked. I hated that Trey had to deal with so much. This world was a shitty place sometimes.
When I pulled up at their house, I shoved those feelings down, plastered on a smile, knocked, and then let myself in. “I’m here! The fun can start now!”
Beau rolled his eyes.
“You do realize I’m more fun than you, right?” Ash countered.
“You wish, Carmichael,” I teased.
We ate and hung out until Rush’s race started. They rambled off stats; Rush had the fastest qualifying time, which meant he’d been the fastest in the pre-races. I knew that gave him good gates to start from in the main. Most of the rest of it sounded like blah, blah, blah…
This is dangerous! Rush could get hurt! He goes too fast and jumps too high! But I buried that stuff with…hell, with too much other shit, as I sat in front of the TV and held my breath. I could breathe again when the race was over.
Rush Alexander would be the death of me.
CHAPTER TWO
Rush
I predict Rush Alexander will take the championship this season!
The second the gate dropped, I twisted the throttle. The loud braaap of moto engines buzzed all around me. It didn’t matter. None of them did. The only thing I concentrated on out here was me, my hunger, my drive, my love of my sport, and my need to win.