Chapter thirty-six
Davey pulled his gloves on. He had a great spot on the gates and he was totally ready to line up and get on with the Main Event.
He would be next to Tate Jordan, just left of center.
Cole lined up farther down and so did Regal.
Those were the main racers he had to worry about.
The rest of the field was crap, and he knew it.
Tate pulled up next to him. They waited behind the gates, not yet pushing their front wheels up to the mark.
Tate hadn't even pulled his helmet on yet, and he still had his phone out.
"What's up? You ready, boy?" he asked, joking.
Tate had always been nice. They cut up a lot and were friendly, despite being on different teams. Davey was tempted to ask him if he wanted to come train out at The Ranch some time, but that was before Tyler started living there.
He'd never be able to invite other racers now, but it was worth the sacrifice.
"Uh, you've got to see this, man." Tate shoved his phone under Davey's nose.
He looked down at the picture. What? He took the phone from him and stared at it.
In the picture, he had Tyler pushed up against a brick wall with his pants down.
It made his dick pulse thinking about it.
He remembered that night and what they did later in the hotel room.
Why was it on Tate's phone? He handed the phone back to Tate without a word.
"Man, that's totally fucking hot," Tate said.
"What?"
"That Whitmore guy is a hunk, too. I'm totally jealous."
"Are you gay?"
"Yes. Apparently, you are too."
A few other drivers pulled up and passed them. Some of them making comments under their breath. "Faggot," was one of them. Davey turned to look at the guy that probably said it.
"Hey," Tate said getting his attention. "Don't worry about those guys. Kick their asses and win this race and show them what a 'faggot' can do." He even used air quotes for the word faggot.
"I knew there was a reason I liked you."
"McAllister," a rough voice came from behind him. He turned around to see Cole Lindt. This was not going to be good. "I fired your faggot boyfriend and I'm gonna beat your faggot ass on this track."
"You wish."
The racers were given the signal to line up. Someone else called out, "Fag!" He suspected it was Cole.
Davey put his bike where it needed to be and pulled his googles on, then yelled down the line himself. "Cole!" The man's helmet turned toward him and he flipped him the bird.
A second later fireworks exploded and the gates dropped. Davey tore off the line like lightning in a summer storm. Determined to keep focused and kick all of their homophobic asses, he gunned it, getting hard on the throttle.
On the podium, Davey felt smug, but he couldn't help it.
Fuck all of those assholes. Tate and a few others had been cool about it.
In fact, it didn't seem like most of the other riders cared one way or another, but Cole did and he instigated a small pack of likeminded racers against him.
That guy was on the top of the dick-list. He couldn't believe he had fired Tyler over it.
Davey knew he'd have to deal with that as soon as possible.
He'd have a devastated partner on his hands.
He wasn't sure how he was going to help Tyler pick up the pieces, but he knew he'd be there for him.
The press seized on the leaked photo and ferociously asked about it.
Davey avoided them as much as possible, not knowing what Stewart would want him to say.
He tried to just ignore anything not having to do with the actual race.
He had crushed everyone on the track. Regal came in third and Cole finished behind him.
That new racer on Cole's team took second place, finishing almost three full seconds behind Davey.
He told the reporter he had every intention of making this kind of win every week.
Then, he spotted Angel. She came in and rescued him as if she was his own personal press agent or something.
He supposed her responsibilities were going to be greater this year, but he wasn't sure yet what they were.
She grabbed his arm and dragged him away, letting Shorty and his team take the bike.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," she said.
"Yeah, I need to see Ty."
"He's in your RV. Come on." She pulled him through the pit area.
Tony, his driver, stood outside his rig, arms crossed and his face in a scowl. "What the hell?" Davey asked, picking up on his violent vibe.
"He's had to play bodyguard and keep people away for the last twenty to thirty minutes. Someone spotted Tyler and all hell broke loose," she said.
"Oh my God. Is he okay?"
"Yes, I think so." She opened the door, nodding at Tony.
"I'm good, boss," Tony said.
"Thank you," Davey answered, ducking into the RV.
Stewart and Brad sat on the couch in the living area.
They both pointed to the closed bedroom door at the same time.
Davey crossed in front of them and went back, taking a long deep breath as he opened the door.
His sympathy and the need to comfort Tyler felt like a living thing growing in his chest, threatening to overflow like a pot boiling over on the stove. "Tyler?" he asked softly.
The lights were out, but he could see enough with the orange street lights streaming through the crack in the blinds. "Yeah." Tyler lay on his stomach, face in the pillow.
"I saw the picture."
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You didn't do anything. That was totally not your fault. Unless you want the blame for looking so fucking sexy. Hell it made me hard almost instantly." He sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing his racing gear. He hadn't even taken off his boots.
"You think? Well, if you're going to come in here looking like that, I'm going to blame you for it. Besides, if you weren't groping me, I wouldn't have had that look on my face."
Davey laughed. "I'm sorry Cole's a dick. He didn't have to fire you."
"You heard that too, huh?" Tyler finally rolled over and looked up at Davey.
"You know how the dick is, he had to rub it in."
Tyler didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
"It'll be okay, Ty."
"My career in Supercross is over, Davey," he said flatly, resigned.
He twisted around and pulled Tyler up half-way into his lap and held him tight. "No, it's not. This will blow over. You're a bang-up mechanic and you'll find another team. It may be a setback, but not everyone is homophobic, baby."
"I'm sure it doesn't matter if they are. There's enough stigma associated with being gay. Even if someone is cool with it, the guy beside him won't be. It's crap. Crash and burn. I just hope it doesn't stick to you."
He ran his hand through Tyler's hair and gave him a quick kiss.
"I don't care. All I care about is you, baby.
" He kissed Tyler again, letting his tongue caress the soft lips.
He wanted to make it all go away. Wanted to be able to wave a magic wand and make it right.
He could see by Tyler's expressions, tone of voice, and how slowly he was moving, that he was not all right.
Davey just didn't know how to fix it. A knot formed in his stomach.
This was just the beginning of the fallout.