Everything Changes Read online

  Show off. I could never do that shit. I was lucky to keep the bike upright, let alone perform any acrobatics.

  I laughed when Justin blew past him up the hill and acted as though he was going to run into him, only to have Parker fake the same direction, causing Justin to jerk the bike and fall over. I snuggled into the blanket I had wrapped around my shoulders and watched. He was messing around and it was cute.

  I knew enough about Parker to understand that he thought he lost that playfulness he felt while riding when his dad died. Watching him now, it was easy to see that being here helped him find it, and maybe I had something to do with that.

  Addy walked into the room, her blonde hair all over the place and two cups of coffee in her hands. “He’s awfully cheery this morning.” She smiled with a wink, hip checking me. “Did you hump him last night or what?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Pulling the corner of the blanket towards my mouth, I kept my grin at bay.

  “Well, Parker never does that shit. I’ve seen him ride. He’s all business and now here he is showing off for you.”

  I gave her a skeptical grin. “When have you seen him ride before?”

  “Remember that day you went to Seattle with your mom?”

  “Yeah?”

  Addy shrugged as if this shouldn’t have been a big deal. “I went riding with them in Belfair that day.”

  “Oh.”

  “Parker is so showing off for you right now.” Her nose pressed to the window when she noticed Justin out there too.

  “He doesn’t know I’m watching.”

  Addy coughed. “Bullshit. He looks up here every ten seconds.”

  Sure enough, he did. Every trick he did, he looked at the window. I was in awe at the way he moved on the bike. Instead of trying to control the bike, he tossed it around as though it weighed nothing. He jumped off rocks, soared through the air with just a blimp of the throttle, balanced on the foot pegs while standing, and hopped sideways to bounce off another rock. All the while, he was able to stay on the bike with just balance, throttle, and clutch control.

  “He’s relaxed,” I offered. I knew I had a part in relaxing him.

  I’d never seen Parker ride before today, and I wasn’t disappointed. Addy and I had watched a few Supercross races this last season on TV and attended the local Motocross races in Washougal last year, but I had never seen Parker ride in person. He must have been there last year when we went to Washougal, but I couldn’t remember seeing him.

  Addy leaned into my shoulder. “Let’s go outside and watch.”

  Once outside, I was taken back by the track they had, something I hadn’t noticed yesterday. There were large boulders, steep hills, fabricated jumps, and logs. Everything you could imagine jumping, either on or off, was strategically placed around the five acre plot.

  Justin and Parker messed around for a few minutes checking out the course they had laid out behind the condo when Parker blipped the throttle into a wheelie and then grabbed the front brakes into a front wheel endo. He held onto the bars, his waist pushed up against the gas tank.

  After a few minutes of them messing around, Parker blasted down the first straightaway followed closely by Justin. Guiding the bike in and out of the tight hairpin turns, he shot for a sixty-foot triple with just a flick of his wrist. He was sent some thirty feet into the air, and the high pitch scream of the 250 two-stroke engine echoed through the canyons.

  Parker looked relaxed up there. He was apparently so relaxed, he took his right foot off the foot peg and swung it over the bike behind him as though he was going to dismount the bike midair. Justin followed the same move, only he went a step further by letting go with one hand before pulling the bike back to him.

  Negotiating a two hundred pound motorcycle with a hair-trigger temper through the air like that required upper body strength, a gymnast’s balance, and the precision of a brain surgeon. And these boys did it at full speed through trees and boulders that could kill you. One mistake and you would actually need a surgeon to put your body back together.

  That was exactly why I stayed on the ground. The first time I did a wheelie it was by accident when my hand slipped on the throttle, and I nearly pissed myself. Then I grinned like a son of a bitch because I stayed on the bike through it all.

  Justin was the first to come over to us. Revving the bike a few times, he pushed the kickstand out with his left foot before shutting it off.

  Addy grinned. “That was so cool looking, babe.”

  “Thanks, baby.” He kissed her forehead, yanking her into a hug.

  Babe? Baby? They have pet names now?

  “You guys up for a ride today?” Justin wagged his eyebrows. Addy giggled this high pitched squeal that made me question her sanity and wonder if she had been raised by baby pigs.

  “Sure,” she chirped, bouncing on her toes. “I’m so excited!”

  I paid little attention to them when I saw Parker soaring through the air again. This time he’d flipped the bike and hung onto the rear fender, arching his back before pulling the bike back towards his body midair and landing perfectly.

  Justin glanced over his shoulder, grunting before regarding me with a curious grin. “He’s such a showoff,” he mumbled and then nudged my shoulder with his helmet. “Are you behind this handy work?”

  Handy work?

  If only he knew.

  “What?” was my squeaky pig reply. Addy and I were apparently raised by the same pig family.

  Justin climbed off his bike, hooking his helmet on his handlebars. “My brother hasn’t done tricks on his bike in two years.” His smile grew as he pushed his dark mess of hair from his face. “Now, here he is doing stunts that most people take years to learn, and he picks it back up like he’s been doing them all along.”

  “I…don’t know…” I sputtered like a baby in bath water. Amused, Justin nudged my shoulder again. “Hey, I get it…you’re good for him.” He turned to Addy who was still smiling. “Go get ready. We’re going to take you guys out on Chicken Corners trail.”

  Great.

  I wasn’t enthused and dragged my feet back inside the condo to change. By the time I reached the garage, I still didn’t have much motivation. I was nervous to ride with them.

  While putting on my boots, I eyed my Honda CR125 cautiously. It was my first ride with Parker, and I was freaking out. What if I crashed? What if I stalled it just trying to start?

  Please don’t freak out and forget how to ride.

  The pep talk with myself was interrupted by Parker smiling at me as he shuffled inside the garage, his goggles around his neck and a water bottle in hand. “I hear you’re going for a ride.”

  Ride?

  My eyes, my stupid Cosmo trained eyes, ran down his body, thinking of exactly what kind of ride I could give him. He was clad in a black and white jersey with yellow Suzuki letters. His black protective pants fit loose enough I couldn’t see what I wanted, but tight enough I didn’t have to wonder much. The white, black, and yellow boots came up to his mid-calf, and his pants were tucked inside of them. His dark sweaty hair was caked to the side of his flushed face, and his eyes were bright as he kept the smile in place.

  He was adorable.

  Peeling off his gloves, he knelt next to me and reached for the boots I was struggling with. “Let me help you with those.” Two strong hands took my leg and lifted it to his knee. “You seem distracted.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Oh, I think I have an idea.” He winked, his hands wrapped around my boot to fasten the latches. Parker’s eyes met mine again. “I’m a little disappointed I’ve never seen you wear these pants before now.”

  Looking down at my black riding pants, my shy side returned.

  After getting all my gear situated, Parker looked over my bike, checking my suspension, gas, and oil. He pulled on the levers to make sure they worked, oiled the chain, checked the cables, and then topped off my gas for me. All th
ings I was capable of doing, but I loved to watch him do it.

  I noticed Justin hovered over Addy’s bike doing the same as she watched, admiring him.

  It wasn’t long before they loaded up the bikes and we headed towards the trail.

  Moab, Utah was beautiful with amazing fiery sunsets and hundreds of miles of old mining roads to explore.

  The Chicken Corners trail traveled the Colorado River Canyon just below Moab and followed a part of Kane Springs Canyon. The trail climbed the Kane Creek anticlines to Hurrah pass and then dead-ended about four hundred feet above the river, across from Dead Horse Point.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect on the trail, and by time we were there, I knew Parker sensed my nerves. Justin and Addy took off, and I wasn’t so sure they’d be riding today. They seemed awfully touchy feely on the way there that I thought they’d end up sneaking away.

  With my helmet in hand, I sat there on my bike at the trailhead, waiting for motivation.

  Parker pulled up beside me and flicked the throttle of his bike once and then shut it off. Placing both feet on the ground, he pulled his helmet off and rested it on the gas tank in front of him.

  Adjusting the strap of his goggles on the helmet, he looked over at me with a tilt of his head towards the trail. “You ready?”

  “No.”

  “Scared?”

  “Yep.” I refused to look at him. Not only was I confused about last night, but I was freaking out about riding in front of him. Parker was a pro rider, and here I was, little Rowan who frequently had to have people help her out of the mud and down steep hills because her two hundred pound bike weighed twice as much as her. If I had any mind, I should have turned around.

  So add fear and confusion, then scoop on a big fat gob of infatuation, and that should sum it up for you.

  “Most of what you see out there is sand.” Parker shrugged trying to reason with me. I think he knew I was moments away from backing out on this whole trail ride. “If you can figure that out, you’ll do fine.”

  “Sand?”

  “Yeah.” He kicked the sand beneath him, sliding his boots along the ground. “Sand.”

  “And how do I figure out sand?” I looked over at him, nervously biting my lip.

  He offered a reassuring smile. “Knobby tires work best, which you have. The object is to keep your momentum and remember your braking point is later on sand. You want to be on the brakes or the gas. You’ll have more control that way, rather than just coasting and falling over.”

  “Wow,” I replied sarcastically, “sounds simple. I don’t know what I was worried about.”

  Parker laughed, shifting his weight on the bike and sliding further back on the seat. “It’s not that hard. Just keep in mind everything changes on sand compared to the trails you’re used to in the northwest. It’s constantly moving underneath you so you don’t have traction. Momentum is tough.”

  “What if I uh…how do I stop if I’m going too fast?”

  Parker laughed again sensing my frustration. “Normally…you would rely seventy five percent on your front brakes. Sand, it’s the opposite. It’s a natural resistant. You’ll begin slowing as soon as you lift. If you use too much front brake, you’ll wash out. Keep your front end light and keep the momentum going.”

  “Sounds simple.” I was still sarcastic and he knew it.

  It wasn’t. I hated sand. I didn’t like the out of control feeling I got on it, and I was constantly washing out. I spent more time digging myself out of the sand than actually on the bike. I felt like a damn dog trying to find its treasure in the dirt, except I was trying to find my bike. Even though I was wearing a shit load of riding gear, I was certain there was sand in places I never wanted it to be.

  Parker was a good sport. He rode behind me, helped when I fell, and rode my bike over everything I couldn’t, which was the majority of everything we encountered. Hey, I made it to the top, or at least Parker did while I walked. He looked tired by the time we got there but the views were breathtaking.

  Looking out at the Colorado River, we stood next to each other after he parked the bikes and drank some water. Parker pushed against my shoulder with his. “You did good out there.”

  “Yeah, more like you did good.” I took a long pull from the water bottle, not feeling so attractive with the thick coat of sweat and dirt that was spread over me. “I walked most of the way up here.”

  He chuckled, bringing his water bottle to his mouth. Before taking a drink, he let out another laugh, his eyes darting to mine with a teasing edge. “At least I got a good view from where I was at.”

  “Wow, you really aren’t shy, are you?”

  “I told you…I’m not shy.” Parker handed me a granola bar. “I just don’t have much to say.”

  “I don’t think I entirely believe that.”

  “Well...” He leaned back, resting against a rock along the lookout point, his weight shifting to one side as he ate his own granola bar slowly. We could see Justin and Addy in the distance sitting down in the canyon beside each other, appearing to be talking. “I shouldn’t say I’m not shy. Sometimes, yes I am, but with you…it’s easier to be myself.”

  To this day, I still remember those words. It wasn’t the last time he said, “It’s easier to be me with you.” I never fully understood the statement until years later. And every time I heard the phrase, the weight of it suffocated me.

  “This place reminds me of one of my favorite spots to ride in California called Reche Canyon. It’s like a natural made Motocross track. They’ve never touched the place with a shovel or bulldozer, everything is natural.” He glanced over at me. The light color of his eyes made his flushed cheeks brighter. “Kind of like you, untouched and natural.”

  “I’m not completely untouched.” I wanted to talk about last night. We did something. We didn’t have sex, but I still gave a part of myself to him in a way and that scared me. He’d yet to mention it, and well, that scared me too. Kind of like our first kiss, he never mentioned it the next day, as though it never happened. And now this, I mean Christ, I moaned like a porn star underneath him. How could he not remember that?

  Sitting down, I rested against a rock to relax. All that thinking made me more exhausted than the ride up here. Mental gymnastics were always the worst.

  “Parker…” I began, staring at my boots and the sand that covered them. “About last night—”

  I was silenced by his lips: hungry, salty, and still just as soft as last night. My lips fumbled with his while we searched for a rhythm, and then it was over. He pulled away, smiling.

  “I’m sorry.” His smile fell a little, but his eyes held mine. “I just couldn’t wait any longer to feel you against me in some way.”

  Okay, so he definitely remembers last night.

  “I wasn’t sure if you remembered what we did.”

  “Remember?” He snorted, appalled and amused. “It’s all I thought about trying to sleep with you next to me last night. It’s all I thought about every time I briefly got to touch you while pulling you from the sand.” His right hand rose to cup my cheek. “It’s all I can think about right now.”

  My eyes that were focused on my boots met his, unguarded once again, showing me he wasn’t lying. He remembered it.

  I didn’t know why I thought he wouldn’t remember. It’s not like he was my mom and forgot that she went to the bathroom five minutes ago.

  Maybe I thought he wanted to forget it, either way, he didn’t.

  “I think about you a lot,” he whispered, taking my hand in his. His large hands covered mine completely as he kissed my lips once more. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

  “We won’t.” I sighed contently.

  That was easier said than done.

  CHAPTER 6

  Rowan Jensen

  Flying Lap

  This is a lap in which a rider has put in maximum effort and was at the absolute limits.

  June 23, 1997

  “We should get back. It’s g
etting warm out here,” Parker suggested, taking a long pull from his Gatorade as his eyes focused on the canyon. It was around then that I realized Parker rarely made eye contact with anyone, including me.

  “Hot indeed,” I teased, trying to get his teasing side back again.

  That earned me a grin. The light stubble shadowing his defined jaw caught the sunlight. He never said anything, just smiled with a soft chuckle.

  As we put our helmets on, the loud throaty rumble of a four-stroke bike echoed off the red rocks surrounding us.

  Parker glanced over his shoulder, handing me my gloves I had dropped earlier. “Let’s go.”

  Before we could leave, Dusty pulled up with a smile. “Hey, Parker,” he said, removing his goggles but keeping his red and black helmet on.

  Parker’s mood changed, his body visibly tensed beside me. “Hey, Dusty, we were just leaving.”

  “Oh well, I’ll ride back with you.” Dusty smiled at me and I knew his next question was meant for me. “You up for a party later there, kid?”

  “Nah,” Parker answered for me, “she’s busy.”

  “I see,” Dusty nodded and then motioned between the two of us. “You two are together then?”

  How do we answer that?

  “Yeah.” Parker’s eyes remained locked with Dusty’s. “We’re together.”

  It wasn’t lost on me that he kept eye contact with Dusty. Over time, I began to realize when Parker actually made eye contact with you―he wanted you to see his emotions, something that was only shown through his eyes.

  When I said I remembered the eyes most of all, it was the truth. Those eyes told me everything he never wanted me to hear.

  “Well, you both should come.” Dusty ignored Parker’s rejection, rolling his eyes as though he was expecting Parker to change his mind. “Bring Justin and that little girl he was with last night.”