THE LIGHTS OF BAKER'S HOUSE eyed me as I pulled into the driveway—their garish hues squinting through the trees. I turned down the music, not that it was loud. I lowered the volume when Baker passed out about an hour outside of town, leaving me with nothing but the highway and her slight snores.

It was cute and left me feeling guilty about what I'd said about Jace. To be honest, the entire situation pissed me off. While Baker had been caring for her grandmother—one of the only people in town who treated me with a sliver of kindness, he'd been all over Jessica. A fact I and a few other riders from my team witnessed firsthand when they came to a party by the cliffs this summer. But I couldn't tell her that. She looked pretty upset by my statement, and it wasn't my place to say anything. She probably wouldn't believe me even if I tried.

I felt the gravel crunch beneath my tires as if they were the soles of my own shoes creeping through the yard.

Baker wasn't wrong about suggesting we eat in the truck at Raven's Pass. I wasn't exactly Nadine's father's favourite person. Not that I'd officially met him. I steered clear of Nick Baker—Snow Slayer as he was more commonly known. One of the greats next to Tucker Hibbert, with 120 national Snocross wins, 10 National titles, and 2 FIM world Snocross titles, and he was from my hometown.

I idealized him but could never tell him that. If my father found out I'd even given Baker a ride home, he'd skin me alive. I knew because I learned the hard way about associating with members from her family when we were younger.

The truck jostled, and Baker shot up, eyes adjusting. "We're home?" I didn't bother informing her that her statement implied I lived here too. Not that she'd given me a chance. "You know where I live?" she asked, her dark head snapping at me.

"It's a small town," I replied, remaining as cool as possible. "I'm sure you know where I live too."

Her silence was answer enough.

I rolled to a stop—struck by the two-story log home with a large wrap-around porch that overlooked the creek snaking through the back. "Whoa, Baker. I didn't know you lived in a cabin."

She frowned. "It's a house. And I'm sorry it's not as nice as the mansion you live in."

It was nicer, but I didn't bother saying as much. My house was insanely large for a family of two—its opulence a front to all the turmoil within.

I stared at the home and its lively windows. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and I could faintly make out who I assumed was Hadley Baker—Nadine's mom— on the phone in the kitchen.

It was no secret Mrs. Baker had built an empire for herself. Her marketing expertise was sought out by some of the biggest names in racing: Arctic Cat, Red Bull, Fox, Polaris, and Monster. She knew what sold, and her clients included some of my sponsors.

Baker packed her things: the laptop I had to reach over and snatch before it fell off her lap after she dozed off, her sunglasses, the oversized water bottle, and the shoes she'd taken off.

It gave me time to view the property. The track caught my attention, next to the shop with an open door.

My heart hammered, worried about who might have been lurking inside. I didn't scare easily. I'd been picked on from a young age because of my dad and developed a thick hide. But I did respect Nick Baker, and as much as he hated me, I really didn't want to get on his bad side. Not only did he build the local, nationally renowned track in our hometown, but he was also a spokesperson for Alcoholics Anonymous and had several business ventures with both big name and local sponsors. He was a powerhouse. And paired with his wife, the two were unstoppable.

Baker unfastened her seatbelt about to leave when I shifted. "Do you need a ride back to school?"

My question was as genuine as my statement about Baker deserving better. Jace was an ass, and what irked me more than anything was that Jessica and Baker were friends. I'd seen them celebrate on the track after a win and the trust Nadine gave Jace. The way she looked at him and defended them at the register. Baker was right, we weren't friends, and it was stupid of me to offer her a ride home, but I couldn't just leave her behind. She had a shit summer, and I knew what it felt like to lose someone you loved.

For a moment, it looked as if she were contemplating, but it quickly faded. "I'm good."

Something in the corner of my eye caught my attention—a shadow obscuring the light pouring from the shop's open door.

I glanced over, finding Nick Baker standing before it, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

"It's just me, Dad," Baker called when she opened the door.

The cab lights came on, and I might have offered to help had Nick Baker not pinned me in place with a scathing look.

I wasn't afraid. I was nervous. Never had I stood before the God of Snocross. A living legend from the same town I'd grown in. While kids in the community were asking for autographs, I lingered behind, knowing my father would lose it if I even considered running up to him. Everyone wanted to be Nick Baker. Including me, but I wasn't allowed to say as much, let alone think it. "Evening Mr. Baker. I'm just dropping Ba—Nadine off."

The legendary racer said nothing. He didn't even move.

I pressed my lips into a smile. It was stupid of me to even try.

I glanced over my shoulder. "I'll see you at school?"

She smiled, but there was nothing kind in it. "I hope not."

I grinned regardless as she closed the door and pulled out, leaving Baker and her father alone in the driveway.

***

I watched my nemesis's son back out of my driveway, leaving my daughter with her bags in hand.

I approached with a hesitant smile as the headlights of his brand new Chevy sliced through the yard and disappeared down the highway.

"Hey, dad," she greeted as I crushed her in a hug, the smell of old books, vanilla and nutmeg tainted with the scent of Levi Hunt lining my nose. "Why didn't you call?"

Nadine Baker, seven pounds, eleven ounces at birth, rolled her almond-shaped eyes, giving my attitude back in spades. "I called," she explained, making to haul her duffel bag across the driveway and toward the house. "You never answered."

I grabbed it, effortlessly draping it over my shoulder. "I was in a meeting," I explained, in a fucking tie Hadley near strangled me with when I showed up late. "I called you back as soon as I was out."

"And I was in and out of service," she responded, taking the front steps to our log home in moon-white tennis shoes. "You know how it is driving through the pass."

I did. And I hated how she insisted on driving back and forth alone. The winter was the worst, and it was the reason Hadley and I were in the process of buying her a new truck.

My daughter turned before the door before we entered. "Please don't tell mom," she asked, referring to the one who dropped her off. "I don't want to stress her out."

Neither did I. She had enough to deal with Paul's business and the death of her mother. I didn't need her worrying about our daughter on top of it all.

My heart weighed, and while it was none of my business, I had to ask, "Are you and Hunt—"

"Please," Nadine said, smiling crookedly. "We're not even friends."

Good. I knew what kind of guy Levi Hunt was, and I didn't need him playing my daughter.

A/N: And we heard from Levi Hunt! What do we think so far? How about Nick Baker? I was going to leave him out in this book, but he won't stop speaking to me.