Page 97 of Burnout
He turns off his bike and parks it, and then motions for me to do the same. We take off our helmets and goggles and leave everything. Knox holds my hand tightly as he goes first down the steep incline of a well-trodden path toward the bottom of the mountain. The waterfall ends in a pool that’s surrounded by large rocks that are hard to navigate.
Stepping up onto one of the larger boulders, he turns and takes both of my hands to pull me up next to him. Then he sits and kicks his feet out in front of him.
“This is breathtaking.” I drop down beside him, mirroring his body language.
“One of my favorite places in Valley.” He stares out toward the waterfall.
“Knox Holland likes waterfalls. Who would have guessed?”
“Waterfalls are awesome.” His face is dirty and his hair is messy, and he’s this sexy mix of playful and sweet and badass biker.
“What are the others?” I ask as I run a hand over my hair. I just realized I probably look as windblown and dirty as he does.
“Other what?”
“Favorite places.”
“Oh.” He leans back and lets his head drop to the side to look at me. “The practice track, The Tipsy Rose…I guess my other favorite spots around Valley aren’t that exciting.”
“What about outside of Valley? I know you traveled a lot for racing.”
“All the tracks start to look the same. I don’t really care where I am as long as I have my bike.”
I place one hand behind me and lean back. The very tips of our fingers touch. “I have a favorite beam.”
He lifts one dark brow in question.
“At my old club gym back home. It was perfect. The position in the gym, the feel of it. I used to lie on it just to think or visualize my routines.”
“I kind of figured they were all the same.”
I gasp, feigning outrage. “Are all bikes the same?”
“Point made.” He scoots forward and then jumps down from the big rock we’re sitting on and out of view.
“Are you crazy?” I yelp, carefully inching to the edge to make sure he didn’t die. He’s standing below in water that comes to his ankles, grinning up.
“Probably,” is his answer. He cups his hands and drops them into the water. The freezing water. I know it’s cold because after running some over his face and hair, he starts splashing me.
I squeal and move farther back.
He looks entirely too pleased with himself when I dare to peek over the side again. Knox offers me a hand.
“Are you going to splash me?” I ask before accepting it.
“Yes. But you can retaliate down here.”
His fingers are ice cold as I slip my palm into his. When my feet are dangling over the edge, he brings his other hand up to my waist and pulls me down the four-foot drop into the water.
I immediately kick my foot and splash him. We do that back and forth a few times, laughing and squealing as we douse each other in the frigid water until Knox wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me against his hard chest. His mouth is warm when it covers mine. I forget all about the cold and everything else but him. We could be standing in lava and I’d probably still happily burn if it meant I could kiss Knox a second longer. There’s something about him. I can’t get enough of him.
“Ready to head back?” he asks when we finally break apart.
“I guess so.” I like being out here, away from everything with just him. I don’t want it to end.
He smiles like maybe he knows exactly how I’m feeling.
We trek back up to the bikes. This time when I sit on mine, it feels more natural. And when we ascend up the hill, I’m able to keep up with Knox without him slowing down too much.
