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JT
Regrouping in the car after a long day at the fair sounded like heaven. JT hadn't thought through the energy required to survive such a public event. Honestly, he’d just planned on sitting most of the time, but even that had fatigued him faster than sitting at home. In combination with the soreness from therapy, JT was hurting.
Kelsey climbed into the seat beside him and buckled her seatbelt. She tilted her head to the side and peered at him intently. “Are you okay? You have to be exhausted.”
JT tried not to meet her gaze. He wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye when he lied, but it was looking at her eyes that had become like an addiction that he didn’t want to deny himself. He returned her worried gaze.
“I'll be fine.” That wasn’t a lie. You didn’t lie to your future bride. Wasn’t good luck for the marriage.
Kelsey leaned closer to him, which almost put her on his lap in the small interior of the Volkswagen. “I know you're hurting. It's okay to tell me. I'm not going to say anything or think less of you. You're still the big macho man, but you need to tell me if you're hurting, so I can treat you. That’s why I’m here.”
JT could drown in her green gaze. He leaned closer, scanning her face and finding that even her scent was refreshing and calm. “I feel just right.”
He barely had to exhale to close the half-inch distance to her lips. The soft touch of their mouths on one another was both electrifying and reassuring. After a drawn-out moment of bliss, Kelsey pulled back and avoided his gaze. She turned the key in the ignition and shifted into gear. Their kiss made everything more complicated.
JT should've felt uncomfortable, or even a little bit guilty. Feeling bad was hard when everything inside him was yelling, screaming, and throwing a party that he had just done something he was meant to do. Sure, he'd complicated things, but he believed that sometimes complicated was the right way to go.
“Would you just give me more medication, if I said I was sore?”
He didn't want any more drugs. The medications were wearing on him and the side effects were more of a headache than the pain was. Plus, he had to distract her from the earth-shattering moment they’d had, or he’d had, at least. Was she as affected as he was? Even one percent of the same impact on her would be good enough for him.
“No, I would probably have to give you massage. It's too late to call a massage therapist. We need to avoid atrophy in that leg you’re favoring. Let's give it a day or two and see how you're feeling.” She swallowed and turned her head to watch out the back window as she pulled out of the parking spot.
As much as a massage would be amazing from her, he didn't know how far he would be able to let her go. Kissing her had been heady. If she touched his bare skin, he would definitely be pushed past the levels of propriety. He didn't want her to feel used, or even taken advantage of.
JT settled carefully into his seat. He’d bide his time. Kissing her had cemented her feelings. His interest was growing into so much more and he didn’t want to scare her off, but time was short. He had to act soon or risk any time with her.
She was smart. How much of her life had already been planned for when the therapy would be done? She probably had another place set up and another job in line. A slight panic clenched his chest. He had too many deadlines. However, only one was becoming priority.
***
A COUPLE DAYS LATER, Kelsey asked if she could have the morning off so she could go and do a few things for school. She needed time off and JT thought it sounded like a great idea. JT hadn't been left alone in the garage since he'd fallen down the stairs. Actually, Kelsey hadn’t wanted him to be tempted, so she’d said the garage was off limits.
He needed to be around his bike. He needed to be around everything that made him feel whole. In his shop, everything was perfect. There, he felt like a man. The last forty-eight hours had pushed a lot of the aching to the side. Sure, his muscles were a little sore, but his ankle, wrist, and ribs felt a lot better. Did they feel good enough to wander out to the garage? He wasn’t being sneaky. He was an adult. He could be careful. He was only going out there to check on things. That was all.
He nodded as he made his way out to the garage. Without the crutches. A bottle of oil and a boxed filter sat on the workbench. JT wanted to smack a palm to his forehead. He still needed to change the oil in his 450.
Walking by his bike filled his chest with longing, similar to the surge of emotion he felt around Kelsey. The red plastic reflected the light shining in through the windows. A smudge of dirt stuck to the white sticker on the gas tank. He ran his hand down the lines, marveling at the workmanship of his favorite ride.
Dirt bike riding had become such a part of himself, starting when he was very young. He’d used it to escape the constant fighting between his parents. He’d focused on the wind as it whipped through the threads of his clothes and the thunderous power he controlled with the slight twist of his throttle. Taking care of his bike was his priority, one he enjoyed immensely.
With the oil changed and the gas topped off, JT stared at his bike. He glanced toward the windows in the garage doors. Kelsey wasn’t back yet. Would it hurt to start the bike up? Just to see that it’s running good still? The manual starter wasn’t on the side of his bad foot. He could kick start it over. If he let it run, he could just listen to it. Nothing was wrong with that.
He carefully limped to the large doors and pushed the button to open the folding panels. Letting the fresh air in was imperative to running an engine inside. He didn’t want to die, for crying out loud. He turned the engine over, the long, loud growl of the four-stroke calming, reassuring, and tempting him. Like a weighted vest had been pulled of his shoulders, he could breathe again. His insides seemed to settle into place and suddenly there was no such thing as healing bruises or tender bones and joints. He was whole as he touched the bike and it vibrated beneath his hands.
What if he just got on the bike? He could just sit on it. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t have to ride it or anything. He could just sit. Right, just sit. He could do that.
But, he couldn’t sit on it while it rested on its stand. Plus, if he sat on it where it was at, he might fall over because of the tight quarters. He conveniently ignored the large work area in the five car garage. Pushing the large bike from the stand and toward the door, he paid attention to any strain he might be applying to his ankle or his ribs. His wrist was fairly steady. Nothing bothered him. He was doing pretty great. He couldn’t help a smile from curling his lips.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’d be fine. Most importantly, he had to keep telling himself that. JT chose a spot just outside the garage opening and slid his leg over the vinyl seat. He settled onto the padded curve as if he’d never left. He closed his eyes.
Kissing Kelsey had felt like riding his bike. Like a part of him had been completed. What had he done by kissing her, though? They hadn’t talked about the kiss or what it meant. JT hoped the lack of discussion meant it was tabled until their circumstances were different and not that it wasn’t possible.
Eyeing the quiet road past the long end of his driveway, JT didn’t see anything that would be dangerous. What if... Okay, he didn't have to ride very far. Maybe he could just ride down to the end of the road and back, or even take one of the really easy trails down at the end of the road along the railroad tracks. As long as he kept calm and didn't go above first or second gear, he should be fine. No, he would be fine.
JT was a professional. He knew his limits. He rarely wrecked. He could do this. Kelsey never had to know. When he returned successfully, just imagine what he could tell her. How far along his therapy track would this put him?
Carefully, he shifted into gear with his sprained ankle, but shifting wasn’t hard on his injury. He thrummed the throttle. It was like his soul was welcomed home. He gunned down softly to the end of the drive and took a right. Kelsey had gone left toward town.
Shifting into second, he inhaled the scent of fresh cut grass as the wind began to move around him. If he went down the straight road a little ways, he could turn around. Nothing would happen. He could stop and turn around at the end of the road. He popped his bike into third gear.
As he neared the end of the road, a car pulled out of a heavily treed driveway and turned in front of him. Gasping, JT moved to plant his foot to turn around. The one he instinctively planted was his bad ankle. Instead of being stable enough to turn hard, the joint rolled and JT was unable to grab enough traction to stabilize him or the bike.
Grinding and scratching of plastic and metal parts on the rocky gravel and dirt road made him wince, but not for long as the wincing turned to curse as the road tore into his flesh. Burning road rash scraped along his arms and lower legs. Thankfully, he’d remembered to wear a shirt. His shorts hadn’t been a smart choice. Hell, nothing about that had been a smart choice.
He groaned, shaking on the road. Why did he talk himself into going? Why did he sabotage the good things? He couldn’t stand to right his bike. He looked to the side of the road before crawling over onto the soft grass.
Would anyone find him, or would he be stuck there with blood slowly dripping from his wounds? After about thirty minutes with JT pressing on his wounds to stop the seeping of warm liquid, the sound of a car putting past made him raise his hand in a plea for help. The light turquoise Volkswagen lurched to a stop only a few feet from him. Small puffs of exhaust moved the dust feet behind the pipe.
JT moaned and laid back on the grass, staring at the sky in disbelief. Of course, it would be her. Of course, she would find him. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t. Not logically. If he had, there’s no way he ever would have gone in the garage. He was an addict and he had just acted like the worst kind.
One who wouldn’t accept that he was addicted.
