Whisky Throttle (Throttle Series, #1)

thirty-two

Maddox

I swoop around the corner, spitting up a killer roost and wrenching the throttle back. The strain makes my wrist feel like it's going to snap in half, but I adore the feeling. Just like I adore the aching muscles in my back and every jump I take to get air. I've taken Calla on another one of my back road trails. At the end, we'll be able to connect to Trail 2058 and then Trail 3, where Calla will take the lead so she can take me to our camp out destination. If we make it off of this trail, that is. I'm having a lot of fun with the width of the trail and the different obstacles people took the time to create. I might turn around and redo it just for the hell of it. Just like the Learner's Loop when I was a kid, I could go around and around and never become bored. 

During the flat stretch, I shift into fourth gear and gun it, feeling the wind whip against me. It's strange to ride with a much bigger backpack on my back, but I'm able to allocate the weight so I don't keel over and wipe out during jumps. While I'm infinite with speed, I normally try to focus more on my technique. Today, though, I think the excitement of sharing a tent with Calla and being alone with her is getting to my head. Coasting through the trails and enjoying the different ways I can tone my skills seems insignificant. All I want to do is get to that campsite and be with her. Up here, in the middle of nowhere, we don't have to worry about prying eyes or unexpected guests. Lately, things have been too quiet and it's scaring me. It makes me feel like my father is waiting in the shadows, ready to strike where it hurts. 

But I push that thought aside for now. Calla, Vance, and I will discuss home problems another time. Right now, it's all about me and Calla. 

Up ahead, I can see the trail marker for Trail 2058. It's a double black diamond trail with steep inclines, sharp corners, and rocky terrain. Adrenaline shoots through my blood. This is one of my favourite trails on the map. I crave the challenege whenever I come up here, ready to test my skills and have fun. 

As the incline increases, I shift down to third so I can keep my speed but also gain traction to make it up. I swerve around two large rocks and dip down into a small washout. It's a risky move, but for a fraction of a second, I've got it down pact. Until my back tire skims the side of the trail, causing me to fishtail and lose control. I hit the ground and skid; the backpack breaking most of my fall. Sitting up before the engine can burn me, I shove my dirt bike off of me and sit up, noticing where a portion of my motocross pants have melted from the heat. "Fuck," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "Of all the rotten luck." Now I can understand why Calla was so concerned about her jersey. 

"Maddox!"

I glance up to see Calla jogging towards me. Her helmet it off, piled atop the backpack she left behind and beside her dirt bike. Her cheeks are pink from the cool air and her lips look chapped. She also looks sexy in her motocross gear. I have to pull my gaze away from her, worried that Calla wearing her gear might become a fetish of mine. 

"I'm fine!" I call out.

My proclamations don't stop her from falling to her knees in front of me and undoing my helmet. She pulls it off and tosses it to the side, taking my face in her hands. An obnoxious smile spreads across my lips while a warm, fuzzy feeling engulfs my body. While her palms smooth the sides of my face, shoulders, arms, and torso, I stare at her. I never knew someone could care this much about another person, and I never knew I could care about someone the way I care about Calla. As her hands move, I resist the urge to close my eyes and sigh. I love the way her touch makes me feel. Safe, warm, and happy. Whenever I'm with Calla, I feel like I'm home.