Now I only needed to swallow my pride and admit the reason to myself.

***

Ryan

I finished my six practice laps and brought the bike back to the garage, where John, Ethan, and Luke waited for me. I stopped my bike outside the garage door.

“Ninety-seven seconds,” John said, looking from his stopwatch to me. “We need to shave at least twenty seconds.”

Nodding, I took off my helmet and dragged a hand through my damp hair. “I know, I know.”

I had gone back to practice two weeks ago. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed being at the tracks, how much it was part of me, until I was back at it, speeding my heart out and feeling the wind pressing on my body, with the roar of the engines filling my ears. However, I was still rusty and getting used to my bike. It had taken me a little over two months to fix it to the point it was good for racing again. Even so, I didn’t think it would last much longer. Besides all the fixing, the bike was five years old—an eternity in this sport.

I climbed off my bike. Luke walked by me, patted my shoulder, put on his helmet, and hopped on his bike. It was his turn at the track.

I watched as he peeled away from the garage and went to the starting line. I envied him a little. This was his full-time job. He was here day after day, doing what he loved, and he was good at it. Me? I was here only on weekends since I still had a month before my parole and community service ended.

Alan and his crew still helped at the Habitat for Humanity site, mostly on the weekends, and that was a big help. We had recovered the damaged the storm had caused and now were ahead of schedule. It was actually nice to see them giving their time to such a good cause. Even though I wasn’t sure what I would do with my time once the parole was over, I considered continuing helping out at the site when I had some free time. They needed all the help they could get.

I walked in the garage and stopped dead.

A girl stood beside Ethan. A girl I thought I wouldn’t see again so soon.

“Hi,” Jessica said, her voice low. Her cheeks gained a red tint. It contrasted well with her fair skin, dark blond hair, and bright blue eyes, reminding me of how beautiful she was.

She wore tight jeans that hugged her shapely legs and hips, a leather jacket over a white tee, and black boots. Deluding myself, I chose to believe she had chosen those clothes to imitate me.

My voice escaped me and I stared at her.

Ethan cleared his throat. “I think John is calling me outside.” He exited the garage, put an arm around his uncle’s shoulders, and walked to the track.

Finally, I shook my head and forced my voice to work. “Hey.” I opened the fridge along the wall and grabbed a bottle of water. “Want one?” I offered, feeling lame about it. She shook her head, and I leaned against the counter beside the fridge. I took a long swallow of my water, hoping it would give me as much confidence as a dose of whiskey. “This is a nice surprise, but I confess I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

After all, it was only October. If I had to bet, I would guess she would come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Or maybe not.

She played with the zipper of her jacket. “I’m moving back. Sort of. Not here, not now, but since USC doesn’t have an architecture program, I’m transferring to UNC Charlotte. I start in January. I’ll live on campus, but since it’s not that far from Lexington, I’ll probably be home almost every weekend. And after I graduate in two years, I plan on moving to Columbia, if I can find a job there.”

What? That was too good to be true.

Trying to be cool, I swallowed my feelings. “I bet your mother is happy about that.”

“She doesn’t know yet. In fact, she doesn’t even know I’m in town. I came directly here from the airport. I’ll go by her house later.”

I inhaled a sharp breath. Why was she telling me all this?

“Your parole ends soon, right?”

I nodded. “In a month.”

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do then?”

I drank the rest of my water then threw the empty bottle in the trash. “I’m not sure. I’m … I’m thinking about applying to USC for mechanical engineering actually. Racing isn’t forever, and that way, I would be able to keep working with bikes.” I hadn’t told this to anyone, not even Jason. Then why was I was telling her all of my plans? I shrugged. “It sounds stupid.”

Her lips twisted in a small smile. “Not at all. I like your plans.”

I fixed my eyes on her and my heart stuttered. “I like your plans too,” I whispered.

We continued to stare at each other, the silence between us not awkward, but charged. I tried to think of things to say, how to keep this conversation going, but everything sounded too lame.

Finally, she took a book from inside her purse and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it.

She shrugged. Curious, I opened the large book. However, it wasn’t a book at all. It was a photo album. The first page had a picture on it, the only picture in the entire album. In the photo, Jess and I stood in front of each other beside the pool at Rachel’s house. We weren’t touching, only talking, but the look on our faces while we stared at each other was unmistakable. Our feelings were written all over us.

“Rachel took that picture. She handed it to me before I left for Cleveland.” She crossed her arms, and I realized she was shielding herself. “With me, the mess started when Caryn handed me that cursed photo album, and I don’t know, it really was cursed. For four years, I couldn’t look at pictures, much less be in them. And I used to love pictures. I used to love drawing people, and even that was ruined for me. For four years, I only sketched landscapes. Until a few weeks ago.” She fished her sketchbook from inside her purse. “I sketched you on your bike without even realizing what I was doing.” She flipped the sketchbook open and showed me the drawing.

I gawked at it. “Wow, Jess. I forgot how good you are at drawing.” Damn, she was too good. I could see all the details, the stubble on my jaw, the muscles of my neck, the weariness of the leather jacket, the dirt in the bike wheels, the strands of hair, and the shadows obscuring part of my body.

“So,” she continued, shifting her weight. She was nervous. “I’m giving you this photo album as the start of a new chapter, a new beginning.”

What? I shifted my gaze from her to the photo album and back. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? This album was supposed to be a new chapter, a new beginning for us? For her and me? She was willing to do that? To give me another chance?

Her arms dropped to her sides and she sighed. “Well, I probably should go home for Saturday family lunch. I hope I don’t give my mother a heart attack.” Visibly tense, she picked up her purse from the seat beside her and turned to the back door.

She started walking away and desperation filled me. I couldn’t let her go, not again. She was moving back and she had come all this way to tell me about it, to give me this album.

“Jess, wait.”

She halted by the door. “Yes?”

I took a couple of steps toward her and stopped, running a hand through my damp hair. “I … I don’t know how to say it, so I’ll just show you what I want.”

In four long strides, I was right in front of her, but I didn’t stop. I pushed my body against her, until she was trapped between the door and me. She let out a loud gasp, but didn’t push me away. I placed my hands on the wall inches from her head and lowered my mouth to hers, not too gently. Her lips opened immediately, and her hands clutched my training overalls and pulled me closer.

Damn it, I had missed her more these past two months than I had missed her the first four years she had been away. I kissed her, long and hard, sure that if I broke any contact with her, she would disappear and I would die if she did.