Epilogue One

Huckslee

" A m I on screen? Can you see me?"

I bring my phone closer to my face, resting against the sofa cushions in my new apartment. "Yes, Arya, I can see you."

She smirks at the camera, the stadium's bright lights illuminating her blonde hair like a halo. "Do I look hot?"

Christian and Salem step into the frame as I roll my eyes, both grinning at me over Arya's shoulder. "Hey, hermano , how's Baltimore?"

"Not too bad. Different."

Different is an understatement. Going from California back to Utah and then Maryland in eight months has definitely been a culture shock. I've been here for three weeks, and I'm still settling in. The coach and my team have been really accepting, though there are a few I can tell are uncomfortable with me being openly gay. I'm trying not to let it bother me, though. Our first preseason game is happening next weekend, so I'm focusing on training for it.

"Our baby boy's up next." Christian takes the phone from Salem and turns it around to face the stadium, giving me a front-row view of the competition grounds. It looks just like it did for the pre-qualifier; instead of one ramp, there are several, along with a dirt track complete with jumps. The stands are packed, cheers from the crowd cutting through my phone speaker, luckily not too loud with whatever noise-dampening mechanism Salem has on her phone for filming.

I know this event is a big deal. Nitro Fuel hosts talent from all over the country; only the best in action sports earn a spot. If Taylor were to win Best Trick, it would open so many doors for him. Their T.O.T brand would grow, and a win would guarantee him a place at this championship every year and possible X Games invites in the future. It's everything my boyfriend ever dreamed of as a kid, and even if he doesn't win, I'm so proud of him for making it this far.

Who would have thought? Taylor fucking Tottman, the kid that tormented me in high school daily, who constantly had me coming home covered in bruises, the boy who stole my first kiss and outed me to the entire community, would be mine? What's even crazier is that I still fell in love with him despite it all.

Salem's shout snaps me out of my thoughts, and I focus on the screen when the rev of a dirt bike engine cuts through the stadium. The announcers say his name just as he appears, dressed in new gear, making my heart hurt with how much I miss him. He'd already competed earlier in the FMX comp, coming in seventh place, but I'd missed it due to my training schedule. We FaceTimed last night, like always, but I still can't help the empty feeling that settles in my bones when I wake up every morning alone.

Just one more month, and then I'll see him at our game against the Raiders in Vegas. And then again in Phoenix a month after that, along with Matty, when our teams go head to head. I only signed a six-month lease since Taylor decided that I'll live with him in Utah during the off-season, and I can't tell my baby no.

I can do this.

We can do this.

He lines up his bike as they finish setting up, each rider needing a specific ramp for the type of jump they want to do. Taylor's trick, a repeat of the Captain Morgan backflip, requires launching himself off the Moon Booter, which will send him fifty-five feet into the air.

I'm a fucking nervous wreck as he takes off down the strip. His front wheel hits the ramp, and he jumps onto his seat, soaring high into the sky above the stands. The bike flips back, his legs extending to complete the trick, but…

Something's wrong. He's way too high. None of the ramps he practiced on over the summer were as tall as this.

Gravity takes over, and his bike falls away from him, along with my heart, as he plummets back to earth. Arya's scream nearly blows out my eardrums as his body hits the ramp, bouncing before sliding away, the bike narrowly avoiding smashing him to pieces. I'm on my feet in seconds, pulling on my shoes and grabbing my keys, every thought focused on somehow getting to Utah and Taylor, even if it ruins my career. I'm about to yank open the front door when Christian's voice breaks through the panic icing my veins.

"He's getting up! He's fine, Salem. Stop being a crybaby. The landing ramp is cushioned, tonta ."

Fuck. That's right, I forgot. It's a country-wide competition. They wouldn't let people fall from five-and-a-half stories high without ensuring they were as safe as possible.

My eyes fly to the screen, a shaky breath shotgunning from my lungs as I see him walk toward his bike, picking it up to try again. Each rider gets two attempts, luckily, and as he shakes his head before getting back on, I slump back into my seat, legs feeling like jello and visions of a broken, bloody Taylor in my brain.

He lines up again, flying down the strip, and this time, when he flips back into the trick, it goes just as it's supposed to, his hands on his hips while he lifts a foot onto the bars. Both wheels stick the landing, roars and shouts erupting from the crowd, and I blink away the moisture that had formed as Taylor lifts his hands in triumph.

"Let's fucking goooo!" Christian shouts, the camera bouncing as he jumps around, throwing his arms over both girls.

My phone drops to my lap as my head hits the back of the couch, my heart thumping so hard I can feel it in my fingers. Jesus Christ. I know dirt biking is dangerous, especially combined with freestyle motocross, but goddamn. I don't know if I can ever watch another one of these again. My nervous system can't take that shit, especially knowing where every scar on his body comes from. He's such a daredevil that it's only a matter of time before it happens again .

"Baby, are you there?"

Taylor's voice echoes from the speaker, and I quickly pick up my phone to gaze at his grinning face. Dark, sweaty strands stick to his forehead, the tips now an electric blue. His smile slowly fades when he sees the look on my face.

"Scared you, huh?"

"Terrified. I was almost halfway across the country when I realized you were fine."

A smug smirk pulls at his pouty lips. "A few bruises won't keep me down. I'm a badass, remember?"

"Bruises?! Show me," I demand, sitting up straight. Taylor chokes out a laugh.

"Considering they're on my ass, I'll show you later. Unless flashing the judges would help me win?"

"Well, it is a magnificent ass..."

Heat sparks in the green of his eyes, but Salem steps into view before he can respond, her bright red hair piled high.

"If you two are done flirting," she snickers, throwing me a wink, "they're about to announce his score."

We all hold our breaths, waiting for what feels like ten minutes, but it's probably only two. Finally, the judges score his performance, technique, and originality.

Eighty-four.

Eight points less than his qualifying score, and two points less than the lead, putting him in second place.

His shoulders visibly slump on screen, his smile growing tight, and a spark of anger ignites in my gut.

"That's fucking bullshit," I shout, jumping to my feet. "You should have been first! No one else has even been able to do that move other than you! "

"Huck, it's okay," he chuckles, running a hand through his hair while Christian and Arya sandwich him into a hug. "Second place is fine. It's good. There are still a few more competitors to go, but even if I make the top five, I'll be happy."

My brows raise at that. "You will?"

"Are you kidding? Some of these riders have been doing tricks since before I was born. Of course, I'll be happy." A grin spreads across his cheeks, beautiful and genuine, lighting up my entire world. "Honestly, as a rookie rider, just getting the chance to be here is enough. More than I ever thought possible."

For a moment, I'm breathless, seeing the joy on his face while he laughs at something Arya says. My throat tightens as I think about the boy from high school who lost the scholarship race, the boy he used to be, and more tears threaten to spill. Fuck, he's so different now. In all the best ways. And though I can't take credit for being the reason, I'm incredibly thankful to Salem and the guys for sticking by his side through all the shit he went through, for pushing him and believing in him to be better. They saw his worth when no one else did. Not even his own parents.

Not even me.

And I'll never make that mistake again.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," I whisper, though he can't hear me over the chatter coming from his friends. And it's okay because I could sit here and look at him all night if he let me. Which he would. He'd probably like it, too.

Smiling broadly, I settle back into the couch and watch the love of my life shine.