Page 9 of Send It
Good thing you know better.
He doesn’t respond, and I smile as I walk back inside. Later that evening, it’s only Reiss that comes inside.
“Have you been here all day?” He asks, kicking his dusty crocs off in the mudroom.
I give him a dead stare, “Unfortunately.”
“It sucks you can’t ride but two weeks isn’t that long sis.”
I scoff, “Says the guy who doesn’t have to wait two weeks.”
He grabs a banana off the counter, peeling it and shoving half of it in his mouth. Before he’s done chewing he asks, “You wanna go to Jackson’s? We’re gonna light up a huge bonfire.”
“Who’s we?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know. Some of the guys and their girlfriends or whoever.”
“Can I bring Stassie?” I ask.
“Stas can always come, Linc. You know that.”
I smile, “She thinks you’re hot, you know.”
“She’s cute,” he throws back. “But unfortunately, I’m taken.”
I tilt my brows in, “Since when?”
“Well we aren’t together-together,” he adds. “But she’s coming tonight, and I’m telling you, Linc. She’s into me.”
“Who is it?” I ask. “Do I know her?”
He has a shit-eating grin on his face, “Mira Tate.”
I sneer, “As in Landon Tate’s sister?”
He wiggles his brows, “That’s the one.”
“Landon’s a fucking asshole,” I whine. “And I know he’s the one that turned your fuel off in Indiana last year.”
I heard him bragging to Garrett Fisher about it while waiting on their next moto. Reiss only made it half a lap before his bike stopped. He’s lucky he wasn’t hurt.
“Well, now we always check our bikes before we hit the gate, don’t we?” He states. “Lesson learned.”
“Just be careful,” I warn. “She might be into you, but she will always be loyal to him.”
He gives me a hug.
“I know, baby sis. I’m always careful.”
Getting a good whiff, I nearly gag. “Might wanna take a shower before you go, you smell horrible.”
He tosses his banana peel in the trash and laughs, making his way upstairs to his bathroom.
An hour and a half later Stassie and I are pulling down the long and windy gravel driveway to Jackson’s farm. Him and Reiss have been friends since elementary school.
He doesn’t race motocross. His parents breed and raise horses for the racing circuit. So he’s in the racing business, just thoroughbreds with no engine. My parents have money from my dad’s racing career but Jackson’s family has old money that goes back generations.
He’s always had a crush on me and isn’t too shy about letting everyone, including my brother, know about it.
