Chapter 3
The next morning, Alex was back on the track, just like always. He had woken up sore as hell, but he didn’t care. If he wanted to beat Johnathan—really beat him—he had to train harder. Smarter.
But something felt different today.
He was in the middle of his warm-up laps when he spotted him.
Johnathan.
He was already riding, tearing through the course with that same effortless precision. The way he leaned into turns, the way his bike stayed balanced even at insane speeds—it was good. Too good.
Alex found himself slowing down, watching.
His eyes followed every move, every shift of Johnathan’s weight. The way his arms flexed against the handlebars, the way he controlled his bike like it was an extension of himself.
I’m just studying his technique, Alex told himself.
But something about it made his chest feel… weird. Tight.
He shook his head, gripping his handlebars. No. I’m just trying to get better. That’s it.
And yet, as Johnathan landed a jump perfectly, Alex caught himself staring again.
Something more was there.
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus on his own riding. Whatever that feeling was, he didn’t have time for it.
Alex was still trying to shake off whatever weird feeling had crept into his chest when he heard the hum of an engine getting closer.
He barely had time to react before Johnathan pulled up beside him, stopping just a little too close.
Alex tensed. "What?"
Johnathan didn’t answer right away. He just let out a low hum, tilting his head slightly as he looked at Alex. His visor was up, and there was something in his expression—not quite a smirk, but close.
"You’re staring," Johnathan finally said.
Alex’s stomach dropped.
His hands gripped the handlebars tighter. "No, I wasn’t."
Johnathan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you were."
Alex scowled. "I was studying your technique."
Johnathan let out a small chuckle, tapping his fingers against his throttle. "That what they’re calling it these days?"
Alex opened his mouth, then shut it just as fast. His face felt hot under his helmet. "Shut up."
Johnathan just grinned, a slow, amused look. "Relax, rookie. I get it. You wanna learn from the best."
Alex huffed. "I don’t wanna learn from you. I have to, so I can beat you."
Johnathan leaned in just slightly, voice lower now. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Alex swallowed, his pulse jumping before he could stop it.
Johnathan revved his engine once and pulled back. "Try to keep up next time."
Then he took off, leaving Alex sitting there, flustered and fuming.
What the hell was that?
Alex’s brain barely had time to process what just happened before his body moved on instinct.
Oh, hell no.
He revved his engine hard and shot off after Johnathan, closing the distance between them fast. Johnathan glanced back just in time to see Alex pull up beside him, matching his speed.
"You think you’re funny, huh?" Alex called over the roar of their bikes.
Johnathan smirked. "I know I’m funny."
Alex huffed, then—without thinking—tilted his head slightly, voice dropping into something overly dramatic. "Damn, John, if you wanted my attention so bad, you could’ve just asked."
Johnathan’s smirk faltered for half a second. Just a half second.
Alex caught it. And he grinned.
"You been dreaming about me or something?" Alex teased, leaning in slightly. "Is that why you keep trying to get under my skin?"
Johnathan let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "You wish, rookie."
Alex gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "You wound me, Johnathan. And here I thought we had something special."
Johnathan shot him a look, unimpressed but definitely holding back a smirk. "You’re ridiculous."
"And you love it."
Johnathan didn’t deny it.
Instead, he picked up speed, pulling ahead. "Try flirting when you can actually win a race."
Alex barked out a laugh and pushed his bike harder, chasing after him.
Maybe he wasn’t the best yet. Maybe he had a long way to go.
But damn, this was fun.
Alex pushed his bike harder, keeping on Johnathan’s tail. The wind whipped past him, his engine roaring as they tore through the track.
He didn’t even care about winning this time—he just wanted to mess with Johnathan a little more.
Pulling up beside him again, Alex grinned. "So what do I get when I do win?"
Johnathan barely glanced at him. "A reality check."
Alex gasped again, dramatic as ever. "Cold. Heartless. No wonder you’re still single."
Johnathan definitely smirked at that but didn’t take the bait. "You focus this much on racing, maybe you’d actually stand a chance."
Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "So you are thinking about me."
Johnathan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."
"And you like the attention," Alex shot back.
Johnathan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took a turn sharply, dirt kicking up behind him. Alex barely had time to react, skidding slightly before regaining control.
When he caught up again, Johnathan glanced over, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "If I did, what would you do about it?"
Alex’s grip tightened. His chest did that weird thing again.
But instead of backing down, he smirked. "Guess you’ll have to wait and see."
Johnathan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You talk a big game."
Alex just grinned. "Yeah? Stick around, old man. Maybe you’ll learn something."
They raced for a while longer, neither willing to slow down, neither willing to admit they were having too much fun.
Eventually, Johnathan pulled ahead—again—and reached the finish first. Again.
Alex skidded to a stop beside him, out of breath but grinning. "One of these days, I’m gonna beat you."
Johnathan took off his helmet, running a hand through his messy hair. "I’d like to see you try."
Alex pulled off his own helmet, shaking out his damp hair. "Oh, I will."
Johnathan watched him for a second. Not with his usual sharp-eyed scrutiny, but something else. Something Alex couldn’t quite place.
Then, just as fast as it appeared, it was gone.
"Keep up the attitude," Johnathan said, tossing his helmet onto his bike. "Might just make things interesting."
And with that, he walked off, leaving Alex standing there, heart still pounding.
From the race. Obviously.