Page 52 of Down & Dirty

With his hand on the door, Cory paused to look back at me over his shoulder. “You’re right. Fuck what they say, just listen to me.” He winked, and then hopped out to come open my door.

Cory wanted me to only care about what he thought. It made me laugh at first, because two months ago I couldn’t have cared less about the man, let alone his opinion of me.

But now? Now I was starting to care, all right. Maybe too much.

CHAPTER 19

CORY

My initial irritation at having to park in the second garage was washed away by sweet relief. I’d already had to adjust myself in my pants twice since stepping out to get Sky’s door, and the extra half block was giving me just enough time to get my shit together.

That kiss.

Fuck.

What was this woman doing to me?

First, she comes over to my place and we have the most relaxing, fun night watching a movie and eating the best pasta I’ve had in years. Then she gets hurt and I can’t handle the sight of her in pain, my rage almost getting the better of me. And now, one simple kiss has my blood pumping like a freight train.

From a single kiss.

Her hand nestled loosely in mine was the only thing keeping me from spiraling. Somehow out of the two of us, she seemed the most pulled together as we approached the noise and flashing lights. If we did this, there was no going back. The press would be all over us from now on, and the days of flying low were over. A strange sense of unease crept through me, like finally pulling this trigger was going to change this thing we had. Or I don’t know, put itat risk somehow? I’d done this dozens of times before, but this time it felt different, and I slowed my steps.

Sky looked up at me with a reassuring grin, only a hint of wariness in her eyes. “Come on, big motocross megastar, let’s get what we came for.”

The reality that tonight was about me getting what I wanted, and Sky making good on her end of our deal, sat like a stone in my gut. But she was right. We’d come here for a reason, and whatever the hell was going on with me, we might as well at least step in front of the cameras and answer some questions. As for the rest of it, I wasn’t sure that was the best idea anymore.

We wove our way through the crowd. This movie premier was for a buddy of mine, and he’d had gotten me tickets at the last minute. It was a hot new documentary on adrenaline junkies and extreme sports—a topic I used to know more about. It had been a while since I’d done any big jumps or tricks, but I’d known all the pros when I was coming up. This event was perfect for unveiling me and Skylar, a classic mashup of my riding world and the “Hollywood set”—as she called them.

“Cory! Cory Ellis!” a young blond reporter called from behind the press barricade. I had the vague sensation we’d met before, but I couldn’t place her. I scoped out her credential badge, but it was flipped the wrong way, so I was forced to walk over wearing my best fake smile. It had been a minute since I’d worn that mask and it felt especially uncomfortable with Sky by my side.

“Hey! How are you?” I asked, leaning in for a one-armed hug, refusing to drop Sky’s hand.

“So good to see you. It’s been a while since you’ve graced the streets of LA.”

“Well, you know, it’s been hard to trek up here while getting settled on the new team.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes pinging between me and Sky. “Yes, you signed on with OTM recently. Big shake-ups in the motocross world with the start of this joined season. How are things going with your new crew?”

“You know, it’s a great group. We’ve got a lot of talent, and I still have Billy Morlow with me as my wrench. So it’s sort of the best of both worlds.” I shifted on my feet, squinting into the bright lights behind her.

“You two have been together a long time.”

I laughed. “When you find a good fit, you hold on to it.” I glanced down at Sky, her face fixed in a supportive grin that she made look easy. But then the reporter adjusted, sliding the mic in front of Sky, and she went rock solid.

“And who do you have with you?”

I leaned into the mic, giving Sky’s hand a squeeze. “I’m lucky tonight, I’ve got Skylar Stone on my arm.”

The reporter’s eyes widened, and I could see her doing the quick math. “Stone? As in Ronnie Stone?”

“I’m his sister,” Sky answered confidently, before I got the chance. “I’m his manager.”

“Oh, wow. Okay.” She looked between us, her mouth open with shock and then amusement. “Got it. Keeping it all in the family then.” She laughed at her own joke. “The motocross family.”

Sky and I laughed along with her, exhaling in relief when the coordinator urged us on down the line. We posed for photos every few feet. When the photographers started calling out both our names, I knew word had spread. Everyone knew who she was now. And every time we moved down the carpet and I wrapped my hand possessively around her hip, they learned who she was to me, too.

It was all for the story. That’s what I told myself, over and over again.

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