[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...
Shout out to katrin_writes for this song suggestion. I love it <3
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Baker came right on time—meeting Janelle and me at the beautifully finished Santa booth I took great pride in. Or I might've had it not been for all the sly looks she gave Baker and I, and the quiet comments I was grateful he hadn't heard.
Janelle had no intention of tagging along when Baker offered she and my brother's a ride back home. In fact, she grabbed the crook of Nate's arm before he could follow and convinced him to show her the track. "We'll catch a ride with your mom."
Luke slumped in his seat, not too happy, and neither was Nate, but they stayed, leaving Baker and me to travel across the parking lot on our own.
It might have been a skating rink with the deadly patches of ice that nearly killed us.
My shriek tore through all the cars and trucks when I slipped, and I must have looked pretty ridiculous as my arms shot out, hoping to seek purchase from some invisible source. Luckily for me, Baker nabbed me at the last possible minute, but it didn't come without cost.
He lost his footing, and together we fell.
Down.
Down.
Smack.
I was grateful for the cushioned blow his muscled abs and FXR coat provided, but I couldn't help but laugh from sheer humiliation as the people who witnessed the embarrassing act looked at us with concern, asking if we were okay.
It only made it worse, that and the way Baker groaned beneath me.
"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to keep my laughter in my belly as I peeled myself from him like a page from a book.
He laid there—still as the dead as others rush to help us.
"I'm sorry," I chuckled, kissing him sweetly before a woman sank next to me.
"Are you alright?"
I waited for Baker, who crunched up. "We're fine."
We thanked her, and I helped him up, ensuring everyone we were okay, and together, we hobbled to the truck on the furthest side of the parking lot.
The warm scent of cinnamon caressed me as I acclimated to the heat, finding the dash polished to a high sheen.
"How's your back?" I dared, glancing sidelong at Baker.
Baker gave me a look from the driver's seat of my father's truck, slightly sour but also doing what he could to hold down his grin as he buckled his seat belt.
"Or was it your ass that broke your fall?" I teased.
"Your fall," he corrected. "And it's my pride you hurt more than anything."
