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She’s sexy in an edgy kind of way, and I realize who she is when I notice the way Heather tenses up. It’s the lady from the helmet company that was talking to Atlas at the party earlier on.

“What do you mean, and who the fuck are you?” Fox asks, giving her a hungry once over that ends with his beady eyes settling on the woman’s tits.

“My name is Kristy Black and I’m the marketing exec for Blue Lightning Helmets. We’re here to choose the last racer for next year’s special edition line and I already spoke to Mr. Hunter earlier at the official promoter’s party. I’ve been looking for you all night, Mr. Fox. My bosses are interested in signing one racer from the Super League and it’s between you or one of the guys from the Hunter team.”

A look passes between Atlas and Ares. My brothers don’t look pleased with the news. I know they really wanted to be the face of one of Blue Lightning’s special edition helmets.

“Then you should tell your bosses not to waste their time with these kids and go with a seasoned racer,” Fox says. “You’ll avoid the embarrassment of being associated with them when I destroy them during tomorrow’s race.”

Kristy chuckles, revealing a diamond in one of her canines. “I love the grit and the fight you guys have. But like I said, I could make my recommendation tonight. Everyone can succeed on a racetrack they’ve been studying for months and with the best gear they can get; with a whole team of mechanics at their disposal. Our helmets value the individual rider, the human factor that makes the difference even in the most challenging and uncommon situations. As you all know, Blue Lightning is famous for their extreme challenges. How about we do one right here right now and see who comes out on top?”

The crowd buzzes with excitement. The Blue Lightning challenges go viral every single time.

“Sure,” Fox smiles. “I could beat this loser blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back.”

Atlas doesn’t back down. “Same. What did you have in mind, Kristy?”

The woman’s eyes gleam with excitement. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Chapter 4

Wild Thing

ZARA

This is bad.

Cal hates the Hunter brothers. He’s been talking about them nonstop since we started dating.

I had seen them once a few weeks ago, when I snuck out to watch the Star Cove leg of the Super Bikes League. They were racing on their own turf then, and they were the crowd’s clear favorites.

Cal hates them because their father was a famous professional hockey player; he thinks they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths and all they had to do to get a MotoGP team to notice them was to get their rich daddy to buy them expensive bikes.

I’ve been around motorcycles my entire life—at least until my parents divorced—and having the best bike is important to win, but the racer’s skills are just as important.

Of course, I knew better than to say that to my ex-boyfriend. That’s also why I tried to hide who my father is.

The truth is that Levin Reilly, Atlas and Ares Hunter, and even their brother Chance, are super talented on two wheels. Cal has been placing behind them consistently. Today wasn’t a fluke.I think Blue Lightning is considering Cal more for his image than for the number of victories under his belt.

He’s the quintessential bad boy, someone who barely plays by the rules. He’s famous for his infractions and for being always ready to exploit every opportunity, his rivals’ every weakness, no matter how small.

“We want the racer with the best skills and the most grit. I want to see you all race on the sand and on the same bikes.”

“Good luck getting some bikes at the drop of a hat,” Heather snorts. Atlas’s girlfriend has been watching Kristy with a jealous gleam in her eyes the entire time. “The same type of bike, too? I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

Kristy’s smile widens. “I came here prepared for a challenge. My team has what we need. Guys!” she calls.

I hear the dirt bikes before I see them. Three riders, clad in black leather from head to toe, come to a skidding halt a few feet away from us. Sand sprays everywhere as the crowd cheers at the promise of an exciting challenge.

“These are just your basic, run-of-the-mill dirt bikes,” Kristy explains. “Each of you will race from here to the old bridge. The third bike is for one of my team to film the action. I have two of our latest, special edition pro racer helmets for you guys to wear. I’m going to stream the race. The first racer under the bridge will be the face of next season’s helmet.”

Atlas doesn’t look impressed. “I don’t see what kind of data a race on the beach is going to give you, Kristy. We should take this back to the racetrack.”

“It’s more fun like this,” the woman smiles. “Our new line gives you the best performance in every condition on every road and surface. We want our challenges to reflect that. It doesn’t matter if you don’t typically race on dirt bikes. I know you all have experience on a dirt bike because this is how you started asearly teens. It should really be like riding a bike, after all.” she chuckles at her own pun.

Cal barks out a derisive laugh. “I don’t think his problem is the dirt bike or the sand. Am I right, Hunter? I think the problem is that you’re too chicken to race without your mechanics and your fancy equipment. You know too well that if it came down to just the racer’s skills, I would destroy you. Any of you.”

I’ve seen these guys race, and I think Cal is full of shit. All the Hunter brothers—and their friend Levin—are born to race. And this isn’t just my opinion; I started following their races when Dad told me about it. He’s trying to finance his own team for the MotoGP and he’s been watching all the emerging talent for the past couple of years. I don’t get to see him as much as I would like to, but Dad does his best to visit during the off-season.

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