Page 22 of Attraction & Repulsion

Jax ignored the exchange. “Since I don’t work tomorrow,” he said to Carson. “Want to go riding?”

Carson hesitated. She would probably make a fool of herself. No, she would definitely make a fool of herself . . . again. In front of Jax.

Pinching her cheek between her teeth, her eyes darted around the table. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. Maybe she should go. It would get her out of the house and out of her head.

Then she remembered the personal goal she recently made. It would be a distraction from the other activities she could be doing, like taking a blade to her thigh and pressing—

“Why the hell not?” Carson said.

Chapter eight

Perkinsville Road ran down the middle of Chino Valley, splitting the town in two. Jax’s truck rattled when the pavement ended and the dirt road began. By the time Jax pulled off onto the shoulder and parked the truck, the terrain had transformed from flat valley to rolling hills.

After they had unloaded their dirt bikes and put on their gear, Jax yelled through his helmet, over the roar of the engines, “I’ll follow you!”

Carson took off, settling into her seat, feeling stiff. Her movements were rigid as if her joints were made of wood. It took a while, but she fell back into the rhythm of controlling the machine, becoming less and less jerky.

They raced across the desert, dust pluming behind them, weaving through spiny shrubs and cacti. Their tires spit the soft sand as they wound through dried creek beds. Carson’s muscles worked as they climbed berms and descended hills. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

The sun beat down on them, making it hard to believe it was early October. The monsoons had dried up over a month ago to yield to the harsh, dry Arizona heat. October was supposed to be full of changing leaves, hot chocolate, and chilly weather, not sweat, dehydration, and dried-up vegetation. Today seemed like the hottest day of the year. Carson feared for the back of her neck, exposed to the sun.

When the trail split into a fork, she pulled over to the side, noddingfor Jax to go first. He ended up taking a side path that snaked down into a small canyon. Following his lead, Carson maneuvered carefully around some sharp boulders. The shrubbery gradually became greener, and the trees thickened as they approached the Verde River. Braking, Jax came to a stop just before a rock face that hung over the murky, jade water. She rode up next to him, squeezing the clutch and downshifting into neutral.

Cutting his engine, Jax flipped out the kickstand with his heel and removed his goggles, motioning for her to do the same.

“You hot?” he asked, pulling off his gloves.

“Yes,” she said, taking off her own goggles.

“Want to take a dip to cool down?” He chinned toward the river, unbuckling his helmet and hooking it on one of the handlebars.

Carson’s eyes bugged out of her skull. “Right now?” she squeaked. “In our gear?”

“No, in our underwear.” Jax winked, teasing, as he swung his leg and dismounted his bike. Filthy from the day’s ride, his hair was chaotic from sweat. There was a line of dust on his forehead where his goggles hadn’t quite reached his helmet. Even more dust powdered his nose and cheeks.

Tasting dirt in her mouth and feeling the grittiness whenever she ran her tongue over her front teeth, Carson knew she was grimy too. She was hot and exhausted. Her muscles weren’t as strong as they used to be. Handling the heavy machine took more of her energy than she remembered. Dipping in the river sounded so refreshing. She peered down at the water, its cool liquid beckoning to her.

Underneath Carson’s riding pants and jersey were athletic shorts and a tank top. Swimming in her clothes wasn’t the problem, though. There were too many scars that would be exposed. She debated with herself whether she could just hide her arms under the water behind her back. MaybeJax wouldn’t detect anything. Immediately, she rejected the thought. He would certainly notice how weird she was being.

Shirtless, Jax was already standing on the edge of the overhang scanning the ripples in the water, his skin shimmering in sweat. When had he taken off his roost guard and jersey? She gaped at how toned his back was, compliments to his career as a firefighter.

On his right bicep was a half-sleeve tattoo. Traditional-style designs—an octopus, a skull, and a ship were intermixed with roses—climbed their way up his arm and settled on his shoulder. At one point Carson had thought about getting a tattoo, thinking it could cover the shame of her self-harm. But at the rate she was going, not only her skin would be mangled, but the beautiful artwork as well.

Her palms grew sweaty, but not from the scorching sun. Quickly she averted her gaze, realizing that she was checking him out. Seeing Jax shirtless made Carson’s body react in an unfamiliar way. It was so unlike her. Why did everything seem so different and out of place when she was around him?

“Coming?” Jax was facing her again as he unclipped his boots and tossed them aside. The octopus’ tentacles reached around the front and covered the right side of his chest.

Removing her helmet and gloves, Carson hopped off the bike and set them on the seat, trying to smooth down her French braids. “I think I’m just gonna stick my feet in,” she said, arriving at the lip of the rock and bending over to undo her boot buckles as well.

“Oh, come on, the water’s not that cold.”

She guessed he was being sarcastic. The Verde River was well known for its frigid waters, even during the boiling summer.

“I’m just not dressed appropriately underneath,” she lied. More like herskin was not appropriate underneath.

“Oh. We can keep going if you want.”

There was an unexpected drop in her chest. She didn’t want to go. At least, not yet.

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