Burnout (The Holland Brothers Book 1)

Knox is meeting me at the event, so I’m standing in the parking lot waiting for him. I should go in and let him find me, but the truth is I need to work up the courage to face the people inside.

Everyone at Bella Hunter has always treated me well. I owe a lot to them. They were one of the first companies to reach out and want to provide funding. I hadn’t even won an Olympic medal when they invited me to be part of their team. Plenty more sponsors came then, and I can’t blame them for not believing in me sooner, but I always liked that the Bella team saw something in me before.

Unfortunately, with that comes the pressure to live up to their hopes.

The rumble of a motorcycle stops the tapping of my foot on the pavement. My heart lurches as he pulls into the parking lot in all black. Black motorcycle, black pants, black jacket, black helmet.

It’s the same motorcycle he was driving the first night I met him. Even with my very limited knowledge of motocross, I know it’s different from the dirt bike he uses to race and freestyle. It’s larger, but still sleek and very Knox.

He finds a spot and cuts the engine. He’s facing me, but I can’t see his eyes through the visor of the helmet.

Slowly, I start toward him. He gets off the bike and lifts his helmet in one fluid movement that makes my stomach flip. He looks like an advertisement for bad boys, and everything inside of me screams, sign me the hell up.

I really need to get it together around him. Yesterday when he pulled me into the pit and tackled me to keep me from throwing foam at him, I was rubbing myself up against him before I realized what I was doing. But intentional or not, I enjoyed it a lot. It’s probably pathetic that that’s the most action I’ve seen in months.

“Hey,” I say as he sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and takes off the jacket. I’m glad I spoke first because as I get a good look at him, my tongue goes dry. He looks divine. The black dress shirt he’s wearing pulls against his chest and biceps. It’s tucked into black pants with a simple black belt. His hair is messy, but somehow just makes his put-together outfit that much hotter. He cleans up nice.

I’m ogling him and trying to play it cool, but I’m not the only one enjoying the view. Knox’s eyeline is parked somewhere south of my chin. My skin prickles with awareness as his gaze roams over my tight dress. The way he looks at me turns my insides to lava and gives me a boost of confidence I desperately need for tonight.

“Hey,” he finally returns my greeting and meets my stare. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

He gives his head a small shake. “You look nervous.”

“No, I’m fine.” A generous stretch of the truth. “Just anxious to get inside.”

More like I’m anxious to hop on the back of his motorcycle and speed away from here, but for some reason I don’t want Knox to know that I’m scared.

He doesn’t look like he totally buys it, but he starts walking as he says, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Once we’re inside the restaurant, I give him the basic rundown. “Bella Hunter, the activewear brand, has been sponsoring me for almost three years now. Kelly and Michael are here. Michael is my main contact, but Kelly is the head of the company. They’re just passing through on their way to visit a new store in California, so this should be pretty quick. Drinks. Maybe dinner. It depends on how many glasses of wine Kelly has. If she drinks a lot, she gets very chatty and will want to stay longer. If she doesn’t, she’ll want to get out of here quickly. She doesn’t strike me as someone who stays in one place very long. That’s probably why she travels so much. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t ask about her dog. She will talk for an hour straight about her pug if you do. Drunk or not. And⁠—”

“Hey.” Knox takes my hand and pulls me back. All the flutters in my stomach screech to a halt and my pulse picks up speed as his rough fingers clasp mine. “Relax. I’m not a social pariah. I can manage small talk and not embarrass you.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.” I wasn’t. I’m more worried that I’ll say the wrong thing. Like if they ask about practices and my knee. And what if they ask me about the article claiming I won’t manage to get back to the level I was at before my injury?

I’m not sure he believes me, but his grip loosens on my hand until my fingers fall free. My skin tingles in the spots where he was touching me.

“There they are,” I say when I spot our party.

I lead us through the busy restaurant. Kelly and Michael are both smiling at Tristan as he speaks, no doubt regaling them with stories of how awesome he is. None of them brought someone, which now makes this a little more awkward that I did. It’s too late though. Tristan spots me first and his gaze goes straight from me to Knox at my side.

He stands and that draws Kelly and Michael’s attention to me, and they follow suit.

“Hi.” My smile isn’t fake, but I do make an extra effort to show them I’m happy to see them.

“Avery. It’s so nice to see you,” Kelly says, holding a wine glass in one hand and stepping forward to hug me with one arm.

Knox hangs back as we all say hello, then I open my stance to introduce him. Michael and Kelly both offer a hand. Tristan doesn’t but he tips his chin to him and says, “Hey, man. Are you lost?”

“Nope. I’m here for Avery.” Knox doesn’t give him the satisfaction of letting Tristan’s words have any impact on his demeanor, but I shoot daggers at Tristan for trying to make it uncomfortable.

“It’s so nice out tonight. What do you say we grab drinks and head out to the patio?” Kelly asks, looking between all of us for an answer.

None of us would be brave enough to go against her, but I’m thinking it might be good to make room for both Tristan and Knox’s egos.

As we follow them out, Knox whispers, “You didn’t tell me the Ken doll would be here.”

“You didn’t ask.”

He steps in front of me, blocking my path. His hazel eyes spark in warning. “Don’t toy with me, princess. Am I here in some fucked-up game to make him jealous?”

“No.” I’m slightly appalled he thinks I’d stoop that low. “I told you, I’m not interested in him.”

A muscle in his cheek flexes, but he nods and turns back to catch up with our party.

The five of us sit at a table on the patio near an outdoor bar. Kelly is the only one drinking alcohol, but the rest of us order something and settle in.

“So, how are practices going?” Michael lobs the first question at me and Tristan.

Tristan waits a beat to see if I’m going to answer first. My stomach is in knots.

“Good,” he finally answers. “Really good. I’m excited to start competing again.”

Michael and Kelly are both pleased with his response, smiling and subconsciously leaning toward him like they’re eager for more information. Tristan is good at small talk. He always knows just what to say and who to be. Not just now, but in interviews and public appearances.

“What about you, Avery?” Kelly asks, turning her attention to me. “How is the knee doing?”

“Pretty good. The doctor thinks I’ll be able to keep all the skills in my beam and bar routine.”

“That’s great news,” Michael says, giving me the same smile he had Tristan.

Kelly’s expression is harder to crack. “Is it still limiting you in practice?”

“Some.” My voice wavers.

“Her knee seems solid to me. She looks great in practice,” Tristan speaks up for me unexpectedly. He’s never this nice to me and alarm bells go off in my head. “She just needs to stop holding back and practice like her career is on the line.”

And there it is. I grit my teeth but try to make my voice sweet as I say, “I’m not holding back. I’m being cautious. It’s early and I don’t want to risk getting hurt again by pushing too hard too fast.”

“Makes sense.” Michael’s eyes twinkle as his smile softens reassuringly.

“That’s bullshit, Ollie.” Tristan shakes his head, gaze turned away from me. “You were cleared to practice. I’d be going crazy if I’d been out as long as you were. Every week you hold back is another week wasted, in my opinion.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m annoyed at him for calling me out in front of Michael and Kelly, but worst of all I’m afraid he’s right. Because while part of me is going crazy, there is this constant fear that hangs over me, wondering if I’m already past the best part of my career.

“It takes a lot of time and repetition to get the feel back after an injury, but Avery is smart and talented. She’ll get there and she’s going to be better than ever. She’s the most talented gymnast to come along in a decade. It would be stupid to set back her recovery so close to the season.” Knox’s voice works like a salve, soothing my wounded pride.

“A few weeks of working together and you’re an expert on gymnasts,” Tristan says in a sarcastic tone that has just enough playfulness in it that neither of our hosts seem to catch on to the fact that he’s baiting Knox.

“No, definitely not, but I’ve had my share of injuries.” As Knox speaks everyone listens intently. He has that kind of presence. Quiet but never fading into the background. “I broke my wrist once and it was weeks after I was cleared before I could practice normally. It isn’t all brute strength and powering through. Sometimes you have to be patient and let yourself heal even when you don’t want to. You can be reckless, or you can be patient, but we all know there aren’t any shortcuts to stand on the podium.”

“Reckless or patient?” Tristan seems amused by Knox’s words. “And who gave you that advice?”

“Ricky Carmichael.”

“Who?” Tristan asks, his smile twists into a mocking smirk.

“He’s a motocross racer,” Knox fills in. “I wouldn’t expect you to know him.”

I can tell Tristan isn’t impressed by a remark by some motocross racer, but I could care less about what Tristan thinks right now.

“A motocross legend.” Kelly smiles. “You know Ricky?”

“No.” Knox shakes his head. “Not really. I met him once.”

“I thought you looked familiar.” Kelly tips her head to the side. “You rode for Thorne last season.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One side of his mouth lifts and his eyes widen in surprise. “You know motocross?”

“I know top athletes across all sports. It’s the job.” She lifts one finger from her wine glass and points between us. “How did you two meet?”

“A mutual friend introduced us,” he says.

“So is Valley your home base then?” she asks.

“Yep. Born and raised right here.” Knox slips his arm around the back of my chair, resting along my bare shoulders. I glance over at him. He flicks his gaze up quickly, almost disinterested, but then his knee knocks against mine under the table.

Thank you. I mouth the words, then take a deep breath for the first time since we sat down. I’m thankful to have the conversation out of the way and the attention on someone else. It soon turns back to gymnastics and I happily let Tristan dominate Kelly and Michael’s questions.

An hour passes relatively quickly. Kelly sips on the same glass of wine the entire time and, as I predicted, announces she and Michael need to get going.

“I need to answer some emails before I turn in, but the three of you stay if you want. Dinner and drinks are on me,” she insists.

We all stand to say our goodbyes. I hug Michael and then Kelly. Tristan does the same.

“We’ll see you both at the Valley U showcase,” Kelly says before pulling her phone out of her purse. “Knox, good luck next season.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“See you soon.” Michael nods to us.

“Bye.” I lift my hand in a wave.

As soon as they’re gone, Tristan looks to do the same. “Are you heading out, Ollie? I can give you a ride.”

“Uhh, no.” I glance at Knox. “Not yet.”

Tristan pauses like he’s waiting for me to change my mind. Eventually he clenches his jaw and nods. “Call me if you need anything.”

My shoulders sag in relief when he leaves. I survived. In no small part thanks to Knox.

“That was fun,” he says dryly.

I tilt my head to the side and give him a look of disbelief.

“What?” He laughs. “It was. I nearly made the Ken doll’s head explode when we walked in together. That alone was worth it.”

“You take a weird pleasure in pissing people off.”

“Not untrue.” He smiles, then motions with his head to the indoor part of the restaurant. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“I’m not very hungry.” My stomach is still working out the knots I tied it into earlier. A flash of what I think is disappointment crosses Knox’s face. Is he upset that I don’t want dinner or does he just want to spend more time together? I don’t believe for a second that he wants to “hang out.” Unless hang out means sex. And I can’t sleep with a guy I’m training every day. If it was bad, it’d be awkward after, and if it was good, then I’d be finding more reasons to rub up against him while we work out. Neither option is smart. I’m still dealing with the daily repercussions of facing the last guy I made out with. Two of them at the gym every day would be too much.

Our walk out to the parking lot is slow. Knox’s hands are in his pants pockets and he matches his pace to mine.

“Did you really break your wrist?” I ask him as we reach my Bronco. I hit the fob to unlock it and Knox opens the door for me.

“Yeah. I landed wrong during a practice and it just snapped.”

I wince.

“And the Ricky Carmichael advice?”

“I was paraphrasing. I think he told me not to do anything reckless for a while. But I listened and there weren’t many people I would have listened to then.”

“Or now?” I joke.

He huffs a laugh and nods in agreement. “I listen to you.”

“And I know how much it pains you.”

“What can I say, I like to be the one giving orders.” Knox’s eyes darken with a playful glint. His tone promising his words are somewhere between a taunt and the truth.

My stomach flutters and my thighs clench.

“Thank you for tonight. For coming with me, for telling that story, for all of it. I was dreading answering questions about my knee and practice. Everyone wants me to already be back to where I was. No one more than me.”

“You’ll get there.”

I nod like I agree. I hope, but I’m not sure. I feel a little surer with Knox believing it though.

“You will. I’ve seen the videos of you at the Olympics. You were phenomenal. You had a determination about you that I still see on your face any time you get up on the beam. Besides, I know how damn stubborn you are. You’re not done.”

“You looked me up?” Surprise makes my insides feel warm and fuzzy.

“Of course,” he says casually.

I should have known with that line about being the most talented gymnast to come along in a generation. That was before I got injured. I bet they’re reconsidering their words now.

“Lots of people think I won’t get back to where I was before.”

“You’ll prove them wrong, princess.”

My chest inflates like a balloon and my throat is thick with emotion. I couldn’t talk even if I knew what to say.

Knox waits for me to climb up into the driver’s seat and then closes the door. I wave from the inside and he smiles, turns and heads for his bike.

I start the Bronco, but don’t move. His words swirl around in my head. You’ll prove them wrong, princess. So certain. So confident in me.

Don’t do it, Ave. No sooner than I’ve thought the words, I kill the engine and go after him.

He’s already put on his jacket and started his bike, but he pauses when he sees me.

“Okay,” I say when I reach him.

“Okay?” He sits on his motorcycle, holding the helmet in his hands. My heart races with the promise of excitement and fun. Two things I’m certain are guaranteed when Knox is in charge.

“You’ve done everything I asked, so tonight, you can order me around.”

Knox hands me his helmet with a wicked smile I feel all the way to my toes. “Get on.”