CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Asher
Javi had gone back to Madrid a few days ago. Today it was my turn to return to training. The mix of rubber and gasoline hit me the second I stepped into the garage, where Dawson crouched beside my bike.
“Hi,” I said.
He slipped off his glasses. “Good morning.”
“How was your New Year’s?”
“Not bad.” Dawson braced his hands on his knees and rose to his full height, tucking the glasses into his shirt pocket. “I’ve checked your bike. Everything looks good, but I could adjust traction control.”
“Let me do a few laps first,” I said. “It’s dry. I might turn it off. Listen, can we talk?”
I hadn’t seen him since dinner at Ale’s. Even though we didn’t cross paths daily the way we had in Spain, the silence between us felt off—especially after how he’d acted that night.
Dawson moved to the coffee maker in the corner, poured a mug, and handed it to me like some kind of peace offering. “What about?”
I clutched the mug, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. He knew damn well what I’d bring up. “Kaia and me. You acted weird at Ale’s.”
“I was just surprised.” He took a sip. “I had no idea you were together. Does Russell know?”
Of course it came back to Russell. Everyone seemed more worried about his feelings than he was about anyone else’s.
“Should he?”
“She’s his daughter.”
I stared into the dark coffee, forcing myself not to snap. “Yeah. The daughter he doesn’t give two fucks about.”
“Even then”—Dawson drained the rest of his mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—“nobody’s perfect at hiding, Ash. Especially when you live under the same roof. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just talked to him?”
I set my full mug down, untouched. “And said what? That I’m dating his daughter?”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“You don’t get it.” I shook my head. “He’d never be okay with us. He didn’t even let Kaia have dinner with me and Javi. The other night she had to lie about staying at a friend’s. Do you really think we’re hiding because we want to?”
Dawson crossed his arms, exhaling hard. “I just don’t think lying will work long-term. And if he finds out, he might…” He rubbed his forehead, trailing off.
Kick me off the team. Throw me out of his house. Ground Kaia until graduation. He didn’t need to finish for me to picture every possibility. But he was wrong—telling Russell the truth wouldn’t solve a damn thing. It would only make him find new ways to wreck our lives.
“I know what he might do,” I said. “I won’t leave her.”
“I’d never expect you would.” Dawson’s gaze searched my face. “Just be careful.”
Not exactly a blessing, but maybe a first step. I could only hope he’d get used to Kaia and me.
“I will. By the way, do you know if Ethan’s here?”
Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “He should be. Why?”
“Racing’s more fun with him.”
Bullshit. Putting that asshole in his place was fun—and I’d been waiting for the chance since the gala.
“Asher.” Dawson planted his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes.
“Tranquilo.” I squeezed his bicep. “It’s just a race.”
I left him behind and headed for Ethan’s garage. He stood with Hugh, scrutinizing the bike like it was to blame for his weak performance. A few guys I recognized from his house party lingered in the back.
I couldn’t stomach looking at Ethan’s smug face. He’d cornered Kaia at the gala, made her uncomfortable, and even if we couldn’t be public yet, that didn’t mean I’d let him get away with it.
“Asher,” Ethan drawled as I walked in. “What a nice surprise. Haven’t seen you around. Guess your stepdad’s keeping you busy. How’s your little sister?”
My fists balled tight, jaw locking until pain shot up the side of my face. Asshole. She wasn’t my sister, and her age hadn’t stopped him from staring at her.
“I don’t have a sister,” I snapped.
Ethan chuckled, the sound scraping my raw nerves. “She said the same—‘I don’t have a brother.’” He pitched his voice high, mocking Kaia, and nailed his aim. Rage surged, but I knew exactly how to shut him up. “Anyway, what are you doing here, champ?”
“I thought we could race.”
The garage stilled. Hugh’s brows shot up. A mechanic from Ethan’s crew edged forward. “Want to get your ass kicked again?”
“Why not.” I yanked off my cap and shoved my fingers through my hair. “It’s practice, right, champ?”
Ethan scowled. “Pass. Hugh’s still working on the bike.”
“Nah.” Hugh stood, grinning. “It’s ready. You can use it.”
“See you on the grid,” I tossed over my shoulder. “And make sure your guys watch. They wouldn’t want to miss the show.”
I didn’t bother checking Ethan’s face. No doubt it soured. Unless he bailed—which he wouldn’t—he’d have to beat me on the track. I had no intention of letting that happen.
“Is the bike ready?” I asked Dawson when I got back.
He nodded. “Are you doing this for the right reason, Asher?”
I stripped out of my clothes and grabbed my gear. “Doing what? Racing my teammate?”
Dawson sighed as I pulled the leather suit up my legs. “Listen. I’m not against you and Kaia. I was young once. I just worry about you. I know you—but I also know Russell.”
“Don’t worry.” I fastened the Velcro on my gloves. “I know him, too. That’s why he won’t know shit.”
We’d tell him once Kaia was in college. By then, he couldn’t do a damn thing. I shoved the thought aside, forcing my mind on the race. I was done letting Ethan get away with his crap.
Dawson finished prepping while I zipped into my suit. Ethan was already at the starting line when I mounted my bike. I gave a single nod, and the engines roared as we shot forward together.
The track twisted ahead. I locked my gaze on the tarmac, Ethan hovering in my periphery.
I left him behind after the first corner, but he caught me on the second. My pulse spiked as I leaned into the bend. Ethan edged closer, awareness prickling over my skin. He was up to something.
Right before I accelerated, his leg shot out and clipped my footpeg.
“What the fuck?” I shouted, straightening the bike. The recovery gave him time to slip ahead—but I was my father’s son. It took nothing to overtake him again.
Rage and adrenaline surged through me as I hopped off my bike at the finish line. Ethan’s crew muttered among themselves, chins tipping in my direction. The second his engine cut, I yanked off my helmet and stormed toward him.
“Playing dirty, Brooks?”
He froze, helmet in hand. “What do you mean, champ?”
“What do I mean? Your foot didn’t hit my peg by accident, asshole.”
“But you didn’t lose grip.” He dragged a hand through sweat-soaked hair, smirking. “You still won. It was just a prank. Relax.”
“A fucking prank?” In a real race, it would’ve gotten him disqualified—he could’ve made me crash. I stepped in until our chests nearly touched. “I know what you tried to do. Believe me, you don’t want to fuck with me again.”
His smirk hardened. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll make you regret it.”
“Welp.” He backed off, maybe worried I’d swing. “You’re definitely not like your father. He’d never threaten a teammate. Then again, he wouldn’t have highsided, either.”
I lurched forward.
“Asher!” Dawson’s voice boomed. “Come here!”
Fuck. Why did he have to stop me?
Ethan retreated, tucking his helmet under his arm as he whistled his way to Hugh.
Dawson’s heavy hand clamped my forearm. I shook him off. “Not now, Dawson.”
His eyes mixed worry with contempt. I ignored it and stalked to the garage to change, desperate to get the hell out.
***
Kaia and I were finally alone. The second I got home, I went straight to her. My stomach twisted as I stood outside her door, clutching a gift bag. I’d been too wound up to head home right after training, so I stopped at the mall, hoping the distraction would cool me down.
Drawing a deep breath, I knocked and pushed the door open. Kaia sat up fast, scattering a pile of highlighters. “Ash!”
“Miss me?” I set the bag on her nightstand and perched on the bed. She climbed onto my lap, looping her arms around my neck, pressing close. I buried my nose in her hair. Watermelon and warmth wrapped around me, melting the day’s anger away.
“Did you go to the track?” she asked, palms cupping my cheeks.
“Yeah.”
“And did you…” She hesitated. “Talk to Dawson?”
“I did.” I traced her cheekbone with my thumb. “Don’t worry about him. He was just surprised. My fault—I should’ve told him sooner.”
She exhaled slowly. “Good. His opinion matters to you. I’d hate if you argued because of me.”
I rolled my eyes and crushed her against me. “You matter to me. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Not even Dawson.”
“And still.” She rested her head on my shoulder. “He probably wants you with someone older. Someone who’s not a failure.”
Her hair slipped forward, shielding her face. I brushed it back. “Where the hell did that come from, peque? I don’t want anyone else. And you’re not a failure.”
“I don’t get it.” Her voice shook. “I’ve been studying since I got home, and I don’t get it. I don’t get math. The PSAT’s in April, and I’m going to score low, Ash.”
I leaned back on the pile of colorful pillows, pulling Kaia with me. “I can quiz you. Or tutor you. Maybe you need an actual tutor. No shame in asking for help.”
Her fingertips traced idle patterns across my chest. “My father says I don’t pay attention in class, and he’s not wasting money on tutors. Funny, right? I wish he’d stop wasting money on therapy. I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told Dr. White.”
By now, nothing Russell said or did surprised me. I’d bet Dawson would change his opinion fast if he knew how the bastard treated his daughter.
“I was good at math in high school. I can walk you through the stuff that trips you up.” I kissed her forehead. “Now grab the pink bag on the nightstand. I got you something.”
Kaia lit up, scrambling off me so fast I thought she’d topple. Paper rustled, then she squealed. “Books in Spanish. Oh my God, Ash.”
She hurried back, clutching the stack of classics. I wrapped her close as she flipped through pages, pausing to read aloud whatever caught her eye.
I lived for moments like this—for the pure joy on her face. Since Dad died, there’d been a hollow space in my chest. With Kaia, it wasn’t as big. Every time she smiled at me, it shrank a little more.