[18+]
College student Hadley Bell is eager to return home for the holidays, but there's a problem. Her ex-no. 44 Nick Baker, Professional Snocross Racer and member of the Bell Race Team, still resides under her parent's roof.
Tensions run high, and...
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Anger as cold as steel crept through my veins at the sound of Hunt's voice. Like blistering winds and skin searing ice.
"What do you want?" I asked, turning slowly and coming face to face with the bastard who knocked Baker from his sled last season.
He curved a greasy smile, one that left a film of grim along my open neckline and the thin chain necklaces adorned there. "I wanted to say hi," he replied, running a hand along his smooth chin as he looked me up and down.
"Hi," I said and made to leave when Hunt gripped the crook of my arm.
"Come on, Hadley," he crooned. "It's been what? Eight months since you left."
I glared, refusing to let up.
I may not have blamed him for Baker's choices which I firmly believed were a result of his accident, but I did blame him for Baker's injuries and for endangering not only his life but the lives of my brothers and everyone else on the track that day.
"Let me buy you a drink."
I lifted the tray. "I'm set."
He flashed an even tooth smile at the gleaming countertop, his Monster hat covering chestnut-coloured locks. I'd be lying if I said Hunt wasn't physically attractive. I knew it. He knew it, and I think that's what turned me off. It was his arrogance and the fact that he he'd been the cause of Baker's near fatal accident.
"Still running after Baker?" he said to his empty bottle of beer.
I could hear the jealousy undergirding his snide remark. He'd always had it out for Baker. Baker was fast with natural talent, but it didn't mean he hadn't worked for it like the rest of them. If anything, he had to work twice as hard, given his humble upbringing.
When I didn't answer, Hunt smirked, fueling my hate even more.
Their feud started long before Baker and I started dating. I could still hear Hunt's comments and the bouts of laughter when Baker pulled up to his first race on a beat-up Arctic Cat, one Baker's father helped him rebuild.
I admired the way Baker ignored it. All of it. Because for him, it wasn't about winning. All he wanted was to participate, and it showed in his smile and through the light of his eyes.
I remember laughing as the boys readied that morning. Baker had planned on competing in two pairs of jeans and a fox hoodie. No coat. No snow pants.
We didn't have much back then. My father had to scrape the bottom of the barrel just so my brothers could compete, which meant I was out, but I didn't mind. I enjoyed recording the races and posting the videos to YouTube for the world to see. And I captured it all: Baker's first win in the snowsuit Nate had lent him, the brand new helmet my father purchased only that morning, and the satisfying look of shock stamped across Hunt's stupid face.
