Carpe Diem - Jesse 3 (4 page)

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Authors: Eve Carter

Tags: #jesse, #new adult, #romance, #contemporary romance, #biker

BOOK: Carpe Diem - Jesse 3
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“Oh, well...” I stuttered. “I’m not
really
pretty, like the high fashion models you photograph, I think of myself more of the healthy, wholesome girl-next-door kind of look.”

“You are too modest. You have excellent bone structure in the face. Everything is very symmetrical, your eyes... and your lips are full, and tell of sensualities.” I wasn’t sure that was even a word in the English language, but it sounded so good coming out of his mouth I didn’t care. “You have an overall seductiveness. I would hope to photograph you someday, that is if you would permit me.”

Once again I found myself stammering and shuffling my feet under the table. This guy was intense but I needed to get my act together and be professional. Maybe this was just a cultural difference that I wasn’t used to. It was my first day in Italy and I’d already noticed that most women on the streets dressed in a way that showed off the female form more seductively than most American women would dare. Maybe Gio’s forwardness was the Italian way of showing his appreciation for beauty in the world.

The waitress brought Gio’s order and I settled back into my chair. The more we talked, the more relaxed I became. Before I knew it, an hour had gone by and we were chatting away like old buddies when he looked at his watch and said, “Niki, I am afraid I must be going now.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to keep you for so long, you are just so easy to talk to, not at all what I had thought.”

He reached for his camera bag and paused. “Yes it’s peculiar, like we’ve known each other before, don’t you think?”

I tilted my head and just smiled.

“Niki, I don’t mean to be forward, but I have an industry event I must attend tonight and I have a “Plus One” invitation. Several top designers and photographers will be attending. It would be a good chance for you to meet people in the business and you could get started tonight. What do you think?”

My coffee cup had been drained half an hour ago and I didn’t even have a drop to sip on but I tipped it to my lips anyway. I needed a moment to think before I replied. What would I tell Jesse? This was our first full day in Milan and we had plans for a nice dinner together.

“Of course, I would love to.” Jesse would just have to understand. This was my career, my future. I had to make the most of it when opportunities arose and besides, this was business, all professional, everything on the up and up. My teacher, Keely, wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to set up this meeting for any other reason.

“Eccellente. I will come by your hotel at eight tonight to collect you.”

“That’s great. You can meet my boyfriend, Jesse, when you come.”

“Ah, you brought your boyfriend? I see... you brought sand to the Sahara.” He chuckled, but with slight disappointment showing on his face.

He stood up and slung the camera bag over his shoulder. I stood to shake his hand but he surprised me. He took me by the shoulders and gave a quick a kiss on each cheek. I stood there a little flustered, but thought, what the hell, Carpe diem...seize the day.

“Arrivederci, bella,” he said and walked away.

Chapter 5

Jesse

A
pair of heavily furrowed brows met me as I entered Coach’s office. For all intents and purposes, Coach’s RV was his office. He stayed here at the camp, day and night, living and working as the coach of the Yamaha team, out of the same space—the only space he had—at this remote location outside the city limits.

“You wanted to see me, Coach?”

“Yeah, take a squat.”

I took a seat on the couch and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

“Sorry about yesterday, Jesse. Those knuckleheads shouldn’t have given the two of you such a hard time but when they see a pretty girl like Niki, they get a little crazy, you know. Especially Ice, the guy’s a real douche bag at times.”

“Yeah, he’s insane. I wanted to bitch slap that...”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Jess.” Coach tossed his pen onto a pad of paper, where he had been scratching out training schedules, and leaned back in his chair. “I get it. He’s aggressive and arrogant but, like it or not, he’s your team mate and I expect the two of you to work together, not against each other. I’m not just doing this for shits and grins. We’ve got a lot of money riding on this team, investors and sponsors to answer to. So I hope you can keep that temper of yours on the low.”

Ice was a real mother fucker alright and I would like nothing better than to shove his balls up his anal cavity for the way he looked at Niki yesterday. But I was stoked to be back on the team and Ice wasn’t worth messing things up for. Before coming here, I’d told myself that I would be a team player for Coach, the Yamaha team, and Niki.

“No worries, Coach. That was last year — my year of living carelessly. I’m one hundred percent focused, now. I knew it would be a little awkward bringing Niki along, but it is what it is. Anyway, don’t sweat the load, she will be staying in Milan all the time.”

“Great. I knew I could count on you, Jesse. I want the guys to stay focused, you know.”

I nodded. “So...that’s it?”

Coach stood up. He picked up the pad of paper and attached it to a clipboard, shoving the pencil behind his ear. “Yeah, for now. But it goes for you, too. I want you to stay focused on training and not get your head wrapped up in pussy thoughts. You get my drift? The competition is tough for the two spots in the 450cc competition. I didn’t tell you this before, but I’m sticking my neck out for you, so don’t fuck this up, Jess.”

I rose from the chair and crossed the room to the door. With my hand on the knob I answered, “You got my word, Coach. No pussy thoughts while training.” I gave him a big smile and he waved me away. I struggled to contain a laugh as I went out the door. Pussy thoughts. Were we living in the Puritan era? Man, Coach needed to get with the times, pick up some newer terminology.

I headed for my first briefing with Jamie, the mechanic in charge of my bikes. Jamie Dawson was one awesome motocross mechanic; he was undeniably one of the best in the world. His specialty was tuning the engine to a rocket blasting purr. He could get more horsepower out of that 450cc than anyone I had ever met and his precision tweaks could mean an extra few micro-seconds faster per lap. That could be the difference between winning and losing.

*~*~*

T
he track was muddy and hard to navigate. The tires didn’t want to grip the slick terrain and I had to ease up on the curves. Although the weather had changed—Niki and I had enjoyed a dry sunny welcome to Italy—it had rained for days just before we landed in Milan. It didn’t bother me, though; I was used to it. Growing up in upstate New York, I’d seen my fair share of wet weather. Muddy tracks were my home advantage. It made training more dangerous, but I didn’t give a damn – I had the advantage here. Today would be the first chance I had to show Coach and the other team members that it hadn’t been a mistake to bring me back and sign me on as the lead rider.

We were near the end of the day when Coach decided he wanted a side by side match between his two lead riders: Ice and me. It fired me up even more. Being in the dirt had felt good today and the vibration of the throttle in my hand reminded me why I loved this sport with a passion. I had been on the track with the other team members most of the day, but now it was my time to shine, and let everyone know that I still had it - that I hadn’t lost my edge.

At Coach’s command, everyone cleared the track and he instructed me and Ice to take five quick laps around the track. The loser had to buy everybody a drink later at the bar; a soft drink, he said. No alcohol was allowed in training camp.

With my hand on the throttle, I revved my engine, primed to take off at the starting line. I shot a glance over at Ice, who was cranking the throttle on his 450cc like a nervous Prom Queen on her first date. He stared straight ahead and focused. I wasn’t worried. I knew I could take him any day, but Ice was egotistical. He felt inferior, deep down inside, and that drove him to always have to prove himself. What Ice really needed to do was to learn the Zen of motocross riding. If he would just relax he would be a better rider and a nicer guy. Or maybe he was just an asshole. Either way, it seemed more important to Ice to prove I was no longer the best rider, than anything else.

However, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that my nine month absence gave him the right to my throne. I was number one on this team. It was obvious to me who was best and it just came so damn easy. It was almost mystical. When I got on a bike it was like the machine and I were one, like I was put on this earth to do nothing else but ride a crotch-rocket around a dirt track, jumping little dirt hills. Now it was time for Ice Man to be spanked.

Coach held his arm high above his head before jerking it down. Boom! The race was on.

Ice jumped ahead of me and took the lead but it didn’t take long before the dirt from his back tire was flying up into my goggles. If I could get out ahead of Ice, I would be unstoppable. This was going to be an easy fight; Ice rode like a girl. I just had to watch for my window of opportunity so I moved in behind him, close enough to overtake him the next time he hesitated in a turn. I could tell he was becoming more comfortable with the track and he completed the next three laps perfectly. No chance to overtake him yet. Then came the final lap. I knew Ice. I knew how he rode. I knew his overconfidence would kick him in the ass soon. All I had to do was wait and watch, wait and watch.

We were in the final curve. There was just a hair thin opening to pass but I knew from the last three laps that Ice tended to overcompensate in the muddy turns so I pulled a gutsy move. I saw my opportunity and that was my cue. Just as I predicted, Ice hesitated slightly going into the turn. I skidded to the inside of him and took him by surprise. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that his front wheel slipped in the mud and his back tire spun out, making his bike swerve violently from side to side, in a zig zag fashion, until he recovered its stability. If he hadn’t regained control he would’ve crashed his bike.

I had at least a two second lead on him and it would be impossible for him to catch up to me now. I was riding to perfection. This fight was over. You’ve got to be fearless if you want to win. Go hard or go home, Ice. Jesse Morrison was meant to be the point leader on this team. I was going to make damn sure of that.

I blasted past the finish line. Eat my dust, Ice. Who’s number one now? Coach was watching with a beaming smile. That’s right, mother fuckers. I’m back and I’m a badass.

I dismounted my bike and handed it off, with a high five to my mechanic, Jamie. The engine was still firehouse hot, with heat vapors still pressing against my legs. Coach was watching from a distance and let go of his clip board long enough to flip me the “thumbs up” sign high in the air still grinning with a big smile. When I pulled off my helmet my sweat laden hair slid forward into a bizarre pointed hairdo. I pushed it back with my hand when suddenly, without warning, a riveting jerk racked my body.

Fucker, Ice!

He had snuck up behind me and shoved me hard with an open hand on my shoulder, damn near dislocating the joint. A second before the impact, I heard his breath, wet and heavy bursting out of his nostrils and mouth at the same time, forced hard through angry gritted teeth. I knew it would be him. Ice was such a pussy. He lost and he couldn’t stand it. I was the superior rider, even after my injuries.
Pussy.

My helmet flew to the ground as I spun around and, with lightning speed, I took a swing at him. The first punch glanced his shoulder but he noticed too late and his face contorted when my second punch to the gut doubled him over and expelled the last bit of air from his lungs. It was a hell of a shot. Beside having the wind knocked out of him, which he always hated, Ice was humiliated and whining like a little bitch.

When he finally got his wind back, he spat, “What the fuck were you doing, out there?”

He stood in front of me, eyes bulging with rage, mouth hanging open, gasping for air, as I waited. I struck a wide stance with my feet planted firmly, fists balled at my sides, watching in case he was going to throw a punch.

“You fucking prick...” The words came out with his pain as he held one arm across his stomach, still waiting for the air to fill the last recesses of his lungs. “You almost killed me. Are you trying to get me off the team with an injury, is that what you were trying to do out there? Because I almost crashed and the races haven’t even begun. You’re a fucking control freak!” he ranted.

Coach and a few other guys had heard the commotion and came racing over to break up the fight. Coach’s large hands, still filled with strength even at his age, gripped both my upper arms as he held me back from Ice.

“Jesse!” he shouted in my ear. “What the hell are you doing?”

I didn’t resist Coach’s plea and reeled back, falling against his stout frame.

I glared at Ice and mumbled, “Stay away from me.”

Coach roared at me, “You two had better stop this shit. You’re on the same damn team, for Christ’s sake. Whatever’s going on between you two, get over it. Now!”

I shot Ice one last dirty look and turned away. The last thing I saw was Ice’s mechanic taking him by the arm, leading him away from the scene. Ice wasn’t hurt, but his ego was.

After Ice was out of earshot, I snapped at Coach, “He started it.” I glowered at him. “Can’t I even defend myself, now?”

“Grow up, Jesse. You sound like a child. Look, if you want to be the team leader, you damn well better act like a leader. Using violence is not the way to do that.”

He brushed the dirt off this shirt and bent down to pick up the clipboard he had dropped when he came running over. “You haven’t changed at all, Jesse. You can’t solve all of your problems with violence.”

His eyebrows furrowed in thought before he spoke, “You’re a different breed. The rawness in you comes out in a different way than with others. I suppose it’s good for something, but if you can’t control it I can’t have you on the team.”

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