Chapter eight
Clay
Birmingham, AL (East/West showdown)
We didn’t receive any word on Nate before we had to race the Main.
I was worried about him, but I still had to focus on the race like everyone else.
With Nate and Archer out, Sarah Bolster with Apex took first in the heat and challenged for a podium the entire Main.
Last time we raced, she killed it, and as much as I liked her and her team, I wasn’t going to make it easier on her or anyone else.
Most of the race, Sarah, Slade, and me were tag teaming things, yo-yoing between positions, but finally, during the last lap, I pulled ahead and I could hear Slade’s bike right behind me. Once we finished, it was determined that Sarah had third wrapped up.
The three of us stopped at the side of the track, and Slade and I fist bumped her.
“Way to go. Great racing, guys.” Sarah was a fierce competitor.
But this was probably her last year in Supercross.
I’d heard Johnny talking about her going to the new Women’s league and truly felt sorry for those other women having to race against her when she’d been kicking ass in the men’s series for so long.
The three of us talked to reporters, then popped Champagne, which cracked me up since none of us were even old enough to drink. Before we were finished celebrating, Zeke pulled me to the side. “Come on, we have to cut this short.”
“Nate?”
He nodded. “We’ve got a plane to catch, but we need to stop at the hospital first.”
“Sure, yeah.” If it wasn’t for Nate’s wreck, I would have enjoyed the win a whole lot more. Maybe I would have spent some time with Slade before running back to North Carolina. I wanted to explore what we’d started, but maybe back in North Carolina we could find some time.
I glanced over at him where he stood with Tweed, frowning and nodding. He was going to be rushed home as well.
We found out that Archer was bruised up, including ribs, but nothing broken, so he’d been released, but Nate was still waiting for more test results.
Coop, Zeke, Slade, Tweed and me all squeezed into his room.
He said he ached, but he was in no real pain.
The doctor came in and ran everyone except Zeke out of the room.
We walked down the hall to the waiting room, and I sat next to Slade. “Think he’s going to be okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. He looked good.”
Coop sat on the other side of Slade and chewed on his fingernail, as nervous as the rest of us.
Finally, Zeke came out. It had only been a few minutes but felt like hours. “Concussion. They’re keeping him overnight. Nothing else broken. He’ll be back to practice next week.”
Coop exhaled loudly. “Thank God.”
“Right. He got lucky.” I kissed my fingers then held them over my head in some kind of superstitious move I’d made up with my little brother, Wyatt, years ago to help him not be so nervous when I wrecked.
Slade looked at me sideways, but Zeke clapped his hands, getting our attention. “We all have a plane to catch.”
After that we rushed to the airport. I’d only stopped long enough to change, grab a few personal things, and toss them in a duffle bag.
Everything else could stay in the bus until the next race.
We ended up on the same plane, mostly, but were seated in different rows, scattered around.
Slade was too far away. I’d never wanted to be close to someone before, but not being able to see him was making my skin crawl.
There was no reason for it, except how rushed everything had been and Nate getting hurt… we were all off our games.
Zeke plopped down next to me, but Coop was on a different flight, apparently going somewhere else.
He probably wanted to spend some time with his fiancé before getting back to work, but I only knew what I’d overheard.
I didn’t ask more. Coop would most likely drive up to the camp later when Nate returned.
As for me, I closed my eyes and hoped I’d be able to squeeze in a little time with Slade this next week. The side of me that wanted to punch him was long gone. Now I only wanted to kiss him, and maybe a little more.