boy what bad decisions they were. I told Link good bye and not to worry about Hoyt.
The idea of talking to him after I'd rubbed my body all over his was mortifying. How could I have been so stupid? Nothing could happen between us, but I'd still somehow managed to try and push him into it. And here I'd thought I'd been handling myself so well. After our conversation following the meet and greet, I knew that nothing could happen between us. Drunk Chayse apparently missed the memo.
I pulled up his number and thought long and hard about whether or not I actually wanted to hear his voice. I should apologize and thank him for driving me home. I should make sure that he knew that Link had nothing to do with the way I acted. Sending a text seemed like a much better idea. It would be much easier than hearing the disapproval in his voice. I was sure I'd hear enough of that tomorrow morning when we resumed training.
Me: Sorry about last night. It was a mistake. Don't blame Link. It was all my idea. Thanks for making sure I made it home safe.
I hit send and dropped my phone onto the bed. Reaching over to the nightstand, I found a bottle of water and guzzled it as I waited for him to respond. The dryness in my mouth couldn't be quenched and it tasted a lot like regret. I was beyond embarrassed. The whole night had blown up in my face and all I could see when I closed my eyes were the blurry details. The phone finally chimed.
Hoyt: Be on the track at nine.
So that's how he was going to play it, huh? Typical Travers fashion. Pretend it didn't happen. He was either avoiding or ignoring. Both of which sounded a hell of a lot better than discussing. I fell back asleep after praying he'd just let this go and never mention it again.
* * *
T o: Chayse McCade
From: Nick Pilsner
Subject: Per coach's request...
Starting next week, all Throttled riders will be subject to random drug testing. Please be advised that if you fail a test, your contract will be terminated. We hold our riders to the highest standards and expect that there will be no foreseeable issues. Thank you for time.
Nick
So much for letting it go.
I read over the email twice after my alarm sounded the next morning. I tossed off the covers and grabbed a quick shower. The subject line of the email was flashing like a neon sign in my head. Per coach's request. This was bullshit. Hoyt actually thought I was on drugs? I had a few too many drinks. Zero drugs were involved in my escapades. I might have been a little reckless, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. I'd never touched a drug in my life. One pot brownie my junior year in high school notwithstanding. I had a friend who liked to bake... and get baked. It was what it was.
I changed into my riding clothes and went out to clear a few things up with Mr. Self-Righteous before I lost my mind. I found him in the shed talking to Brett Sallinger. Brett was in full riding gear and sitting on his bike. He must have been released to ride by his doctor, which was fantastic news for Throttled and Sallinger. I was so focused on what I wanted to say to Hoyt that I didn't even introduce myself to Brett or tell him congrats on his knee being healed.
The smug look on Hoyt's face as I approached made me want to slap him. The arrogant bastard was standing there with his hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans. A simple gray t-shirt clung to his chest and arms and taunted me to lose my focus.
“I cannot believe you told Pilsner I needed to be drug tested,” I said, poking him in the chest with my finger. He and his sexy body could go to hell.
“Yeah, well, lucky for you it won't start until next week,” Hoyt fired back. “You'll have plenty of time to get your system clean.”
“You're a real son of a bitch, you know that? You have no right—”
“I have every right,” he fired back. “It's my job on the line here, too, you know.”
“Uh... so I'm gonna go ride,” Brett said, breaking the stare off Hoyt and I were
The idea of talking to him after I'd rubbed my body all over his was mortifying. How could I have been so stupid? Nothing could happen between us, but I'd still somehow managed to try and push him into it. And here I'd thought I'd been handling myself so well. After our conversation following the meet and greet, I knew that nothing could happen between us. Drunk Chayse apparently missed the memo.
I pulled up his number and thought long and hard about whether or not I actually wanted to hear his voice. I should apologize and thank him for driving me home. I should make sure that he knew that Link had nothing to do with the way I acted. Sending a text seemed like a much better idea. It would be much easier than hearing the disapproval in his voice. I was sure I'd hear enough of that tomorrow morning when we resumed training.
Me: Sorry about last night. It was a mistake. Don't blame Link. It was all my idea. Thanks for making sure I made it home safe.
I hit send and dropped my phone onto the bed. Reaching over to the nightstand, I found a bottle of water and guzzled it as I waited for him to respond. The dryness in my mouth couldn't be quenched and it tasted a lot like regret. I was beyond embarrassed. The whole night had blown up in my face and all I could see when I closed my eyes were the blurry details. The phone finally chimed.
Hoyt: Be on the track at nine.
So that's how he was going to play it, huh? Typical Travers fashion. Pretend it didn't happen. He was either avoiding or ignoring. Both of which sounded a hell of a lot better than discussing. I fell back asleep after praying he'd just let this go and never mention it again.
* * *
T o: Chayse McCade
From: Nick Pilsner
Subject: Per coach's request...
Starting next week, all Throttled riders will be subject to random drug testing. Please be advised that if you fail a test, your contract will be terminated. We hold our riders to the highest standards and expect that there will be no foreseeable issues. Thank you for time.
Nick
So much for letting it go.
I read over the email twice after my alarm sounded the next morning. I tossed off the covers and grabbed a quick shower. The subject line of the email was flashing like a neon sign in my head. Per coach's request. This was bullshit. Hoyt actually thought I was on drugs? I had a few too many drinks. Zero drugs were involved in my escapades. I might have been a little reckless, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. I'd never touched a drug in my life. One pot brownie my junior year in high school notwithstanding. I had a friend who liked to bake... and get baked. It was what it was.
I changed into my riding clothes and went out to clear a few things up with Mr. Self-Righteous before I lost my mind. I found him in the shed talking to Brett Sallinger. Brett was in full riding gear and sitting on his bike. He must have been released to ride by his doctor, which was fantastic news for Throttled and Sallinger. I was so focused on what I wanted to say to Hoyt that I didn't even introduce myself to Brett or tell him congrats on his knee being healed.
The smug look on Hoyt's face as I approached made me want to slap him. The arrogant bastard was standing there with his hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans. A simple gray t-shirt clung to his chest and arms and taunted me to lose my focus.
“I cannot believe you told Pilsner I needed to be drug tested,” I said, poking him in the chest with my finger. He and his sexy body could go to hell.
“Yeah, well, lucky for you it won't start until next week,” Hoyt fired back. “You'll have plenty of time to get your system clean.”
“You're a real son of a bitch, you know that? You have no right—”
“I have every right,” he fired back. “It's my job on the line here, too, you know.”
“Uh... so I'm gonna go ride,” Brett said, breaking the stare off Hoyt and I were
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