2. Raven's Pass
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE HIGHWAY, ON the other side of Raven's Pass, we pulled into a gas station. I was grateful for the break. Hunt yapped the entire way. Even after I shoved my headphones in my ears—to ignore him and the mountainous drop past the steel guard rail on my right—he still continued.
I grated my teeth till my jaw was sore, that is, until I received a text from Lily telling me Jace was going to the party I was supposed to attend tonight.
My heart hung as I escaped the confines of the truck, leaving Hunt to pump the gas as I made my way to the restroom to see to my needs.
I didn't know how I was supposed to maintain a social life considering Jace rode in the same circles as me. Not to mention the fact that we were on the same team. After everything I endured with Grandma Linda, I thought our weekend trip was a getaway, a break we both deserved. I felt like I hadn't seen him in months. Apparently, he felt the same, but instead of picking up where we left off, he'd ended it, claiming that I'd changed.
I aggressively washed my hands before heading to the cafe to order my dinner. I scanned the aisles of the attached convenience store for snack I didn't need when Hunt came behind. "I didn't see you out this summer," he said, reaching high in the cooler for a bottle of water.
I knew he meant on the track. Hunt and I didn't hang out in the same social groups. Team Baker and Team Hunt stayed as far away from one another as possible. A difficult task considering we were both from the same small town.
I exhaled my frustration through my nose, my soup hot in my hands. "I was busy."
"Taking care of your grandmother," Hunt finished with a gentle kindness I'd never heard. "I heard about her passing. I'm sorry for your loss."
I never knew what to say when someone expressed their condolences. Thank you rubbed me the wrong way. I understood gratitude was to be expressed when someone offered their sympathies, but it seemed odd. I wasn't grateful for her passing. If anything, I was empty, like a piece of me was missing.
Hunt lurked behind—a wall hovering at my back.
It annoyed me whenever he reached over to grab something off the shelf—his long arms coming over my head.
I rolled my eyes, trying desperately to ignore the Pro Moto and Snocross racer. The summer season wasn't finished yet. Hunt still had a few races before the snow coated the track, and he'd trade his bike for a sled.
"Are you racing this season?"
I knew he was asking about the winter season and not summer. I'd missed every race due to my grandmother's illness, and my standings suffered because of it.
"Yes," I replied flatly. I needed the distraction—to pour my grief into something. But I wouldn't tell Hunt that.
He followed me to the register, setting his dinner from the attached cafe atop the glass next to mine. "Rumour is Jace broke up with you."
I nearly tossed the bottle of water I'd grabbed and the turkey bacon sandwich before setting my soup down carefully.
The mention of my ex infuriated me. Almost as much as catching a ride home with the son of the man who nearly killed my father in a race long before I was born. "Well, it's nice to see everyone knows my business."
"It's a small town," he confirmed. Hunt leaned against the counter, resting his arm. "People are saying he's with Jessica."
The woman behind the register flicked her gaze between us, likely recognizing us both from every weekend trip we had made for the last two years. Usually, we drove separately, but not this time.
When I said nothing, desperately trying to ignore him, Hunt took it upon himself to say, "They've been seen riding all over town together. People are saying they're official."
I shot him a look. "She works for my dad," I reminded. "She's required to assess the performance of the machines." At least, that's what I told myself when my cousin Lily and a few others claimed to have seen her on the back of Jace's dirt bike when we were still together and I was with Hama.
"I'm sure she was," Hunt replied dryly. "On and off the track."
I clenched my jaw. "She's a mechanic," I stated—working under Austin as an apprentice.
"Last I checked, Tim doesn't ride on the back of my bike to assess fuel lines and brake pads," he replied, browsing the sunglasses on the rack next to us. "Has Austin ever requested to sit on the back of yours? No," Hunt answered before I could. "He takes it out himself." I sneered, but he didn't seem to notice. "She must take her work very seriously."
When I said nothing, Hunt reverted. "Come on, Baker, don't tell me you're that naive."
I turned to Hunt–infuriation ripe. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?"
"I'm not," he assured me, grabbing a pair of white-rimmed glasses. "I'm just curious."
"About Jace." His biggest rival and competition.
He smiled, the sunglasses hiding his eyes. "A good rider knows his opponent's every weakness."
I snatched the sunglasses off his face. They made him look ridiculous. "Is that why you agreed to drive me home?" I asked, nearly shoving him aside when I put them back on the rack. "To get under Jace's skin?"
"Please, you're old news Baker. If anything, I should work on nailing Jessica. That would really rile Jace."
Something in me splintered. I didn't believe the rumours. But that didn't stop my gut from twisting. "You're an asshole, Hunt."
I could have sworn there was regret in his gaze when I turned away, but he quickly deflected. "I like when you talk dirty to me, Baker."
I snarled, and the woman gave me the price of my dinner. "I'm paying for the gas, too," I said. "Pump seven."
"I've got the fuel."
"No," I stated firmly, stopping Hunt from grabbing his wallet. "We are not friends. Or acquaintances. You're a means to an end, and I'm paying you for the ride."
"You can pay me in other ways."
I sighed. This was the longest trip I'd ever made.
Hunt laughed. "I didn't mean like that, but if you need a bit of hate sex to help you chill, I can definitely aid you on that front."
I handed over my card, ignoring the idiot standing next to me and the woman who arched an intrigued brow. "I wasn't thinking about sex, Hunt. But it's good to know how easily swayed you are."
I stood facing him as the woman stuffed my things in a plastic bag and began Hunt's transaction. He was taller than I realized. My forehead came to his perfectly straight nose requiring me to look up. And while my burnt caramel eyes stayed on his, I noticed he'd slipped on a black hoodie when he pumped the gas to ward off the mountain chill and a matching backwards cap that made his eyes pop.
Had he not been my sworn enemy, I might've called him hot and seriously considered his offer of a quick tumble if only to alleviate a summer's worth of heartbreaks, but Hunt was off-limits, and I wasn't even a little interested.
The woman cleared her throat, likely able to feel the searing tension between us.
Hunt smirked softly, creating the slightest dimple at the corner of his mouth, but he didn't say another word as he paid for his supper or on the walk to the truck.
He started it, pulling away from the pump lights and into a parking stall facing the highway so we could eat. He offered to find a booth in the cafe, but I wouldn't risk anyone from home finding us together. "We could've sat at different tables," he teased, leaning back in his seat. "It's not like we don't attend the same school and go home to train every weekend. We were bound to cross paths at some point."
"Please," I breathed, adjusting. "Don't tell me your father wouldn't kill you if he found out you drove me back home."
For a moment, he thought, about to say something but kept his mouth closed.
It was no secret Taylor Hunt despised my father. Not only did Team Baker surpass every expectation level and win nearly every championship, exhibition, and locally sponsored race—unless the man next to me was riding—but he blamed my dad for losing his sponsorships near the end of their careers. Not that it mattered, Taylor Hunt was a legend and didn't need the money. He had the fans, the fame, and a few championships of his own. But my dad held more records than he did and could race circles around Taylor which aggravated him to no end. And it showed in his frustration at every event.
"How are classes?" Hunt asked, breaking into the silence.
I groaned, turning to face him when he made to continue. "Can we not talk?" I asked, bending a knee. "Like at all."
His wry grin indicated that wasn't going to happen.
Fine. I pressed my back against the seat, opening the lid on my chicken noodle soup with nothing but the highway and a backdrop of stars before us.
He didn't even give me a chance to bite into my sandwich before he started talking again.
"For what it's worth," Hunt said, opening his own soup—potato with extra cheese and bacon. "Jace is a dick, and Jessica's easy." He put a spoonful in his mouth, talking around the heat. "You deserve better, Baker."
I was about to lose it. To demand that if he insisted on talking, he not do it with his god damn mouth full, but something in me shifted, giving me pause.
Thankfully Hunt didn't notice me staring as he shoved another spoonful in his mouth. I didn't know if he was being sarcastic or genuine. I knew he hated Jace with a burning passion. And I knew Jace hated him. But he also hated me, or at least, he should.
Hunt ate the rest of his meal in silence, leaving me puzzled. There was something there I'd never seen and had me wondering.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading!
I'm always on the lookout for songs to add to the playlist which you can find on Spotify or by looking in my bio. If you have any please let me know <3
What do you think of Nadine so far? As with all my books there is a dual POV so expect to hear from Levi Hunt very soon.
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