Clutched (Wild Riders) by Elizabeth Lee Page B

of clothes and protective gear, I could feel the heat coming off of him. Or maybe it was coming off me? He'd reduced me to a heated pile of submission in that shed and I had no idea what to do with the feelings. Scratch that, I knew exactly what to do with those feelings, but I was pretty sure jumping my coach’s bones would be deemed “behavior unbecoming.”
    Low and inside. I took a turn and moved my body, leading the bike tire towards the lowest rut I could find. Who did he think he was to act like an asshole ninety-percent of the time and then just put his hands on me like he wanted me?
    Not too high. I twisted the throttle as I approached my first jump, making sure to not tap out on the approach. The takeoff was as smooth as the landing. Kind of like the smooth way Hoyt had pretended to be fixing my chest protector when Nick walked in. Had he been planning on us getting interrupted or was he just that smooth on his feet? Surely he knew as well as I did that a kiss, or anything else for that matter, would spell disaster for both of our careers. We couldn't kiss. Could we?
    I hit the finish jump and considered riding straight off into the sunset and as far away from Hoyt as I possibly could. He was standing next to Nick. The two of them looking down at the stopwatch that never seemed to leave Hoyt's hand.
    “Nice job,” Nick said when I finally mustered up the courage to ride over to them and shut my bike off. If Hoyt could play it cool so could I. Nick looked at Hoyt's stopwatch and then back at me with a smile. “Two-oh-nine. Nice.” It was a second faster than my previous time.
    “Thanks,” I told him, pulling off my goggle and helmet. The tears had surely dried up by now. If not, I'd blame it on the ride. “We've been working really hard.”
    “It shows,” Nick said. 
    “See what happens when you do as I say?” Hoyt said with a smirk. Smirk, smile, almost kiss, every single thing he did with his lips now seemed like the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Even if he was still harping on me that he was the smartest man on the racetrack.
    “I guess so,” I conceded. Maybe he did know a thing or two. Now I just needed to talk to him off the track and find out exactly what he was thinking when he put his hands on me.
    * * *
    “W e need to talk,” I said, the second that Nick left that track. He'd filled us in on exactly what was expected at the meet and greet coming up in a few days and then bolted off the second his phone rang, as per usual.
    “We do,” Hoyt agreed. “Your turns were better today, but you still need to get your weight shifted around a little more.” He helped me lift my bike onto its stand. “Maybe we need to up your weights in the gym so you can manhandle this a little more,” he said with a chuckle, slapping his hand on the seat of my bike. My performance on the track was not what I was talking about and he knew it. I could tell by the way he swallowed down whatever he was feeling about the actual topic at hand.
    “Are you kidding me right now?” I stepped back from the bike and stared at him with disbelief. “You're just back to business? Are you going to pretend like nothing happened in here before Nick walked in?”
    “Yes,” he said flatly. “Because nothing happened.”
    “Wow.” I forced my jaw not to drop and shook my head. “Something almost happened and you know it.”
    “I got a little carried away in a moment of trying to comfort you,” he said.
    “Comfort me? I don't need any comforting,” I insisted, know that he might have been a little right. I was upset, but I wasn't about to let him know that he'd helped calm my nerves in any way. “You were the one that was all 'you really hate me?' with the puppy dog eyes.” I huffed. “I cannot believe that you just blamed me for you almost kissing me.”
    “Ha!” His head fell back as he laughed.
    “What?” I asked, moving over to the same side of the bike that he was on.
    “Believe me,” he said, his laughter