If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

wet dirt flying. Damn, the fucker was fast.
    His uninvited visitor caught air at the same spot Rhys had, and he watched in awe and fear as the rider did a freestyle move, a three-sixty mid-air. Shit, that took balls or . . . stupidity. He voted for the latter.
    Even he, an adrenaline junkie, wouldn’t risk his neck on this home-built track. Yet, this rider had. How much practice and broken bones had it taken to perfect that act? Only one way to find out.
    He raced after the rider until they were side-by-side. The rider was small. Must be one of the local teenagers . Rhys shot the kid a glance before they both took the next whoop together, then the next, and the next until they rounded a curve.
    Before he could take the lead, the kid stuck his foot out and slammed his boot into Rhys’s bike sending him off the edge of the track. Too surprised to do a salvage move, he braked and shifted his bike as he and the KTM slid down the hillside.
    Dammit! Settling the KTM on its side, he yanked his helmet off, threw it on the ground and stormed up the hill. He was gonna wring him some young punk’s neck.
    By the time he got up the steep hillside, the kid and his black KTM were nowhere in sight. To be sure, Rhys sprinted the length of the dirt track. Shit, if he ever got a hold of the kid . . .
    Breathing hard, he shoved his fingers through his hair. He shouldn’t be so pissed. Like himself, the kid was probably getting in a ride before the storm. Out here, there was no professional dirt track. The closest one was a three hour drive.
    After his grandmother had the track built, kids came by with their dirt bikes. But to ride, they had to get permission from his grandmother. Now that she was gone, he’d have the track bulldozed over. It wouldn’t be safe for kids to ride unsupervised.
    Wiping as much of the muck off of him as possible, he trekked down the hillside to retrieve his KTM. The rain from earlier had saturated the ground causing mud to impede his attempts to get the bike from the bottom of the hillside to the track above.
    He would’ve rode the thing back to the house, but with a sprawl of low lying brush behind him and more deep mud, it was an impossible idea. The only way out was up, and the effort took him a half an hour, maybe more. Once he was back on the track, a light in Asa’s house held his attention.
    Daylight savings meant it got darker earlier, and his position on the steep hillside gave him an advantage as he watched her undress in her bedroom. Her silhouette was smooth, flawless. When she shrugged off her jacket, followed by her shirt, his heart stuttered.
    A memory of her soft body beneath his, from the night he’d made love to her, had him losing his grip on the KTM’s handlebar while a groan slipped out of him. Unforgettable, that night.
    Getting back on the dirt bike, he made his way to Jo’s place. Yeah, he should talk to Asa, but not tonight. Tonight was all about his grandmother.
    Yet, if their conversation went well tomorrow or maybe the next day . . . hell, whenever he could gather the nerves to approach her, would he risk losing a championship to have her as his girlfriend? To be distracted by her laughter or smart ass comments that came from left field, as unexpected as her tears?
    Because that’s how it’d be like if she was his to love. He’d care too much, would wear his emotions on his sleeve for her to see, setting him up to be more vulnerable than he’d ever been. And when Rhys was vulnerable, he tended to let his feelings distract him. Or he said stupid things, like the crass comment he’d made about Asa.
    Securing the dirt bike inside the shed, he tugged the doors shut and locked them. Asa rarely cried in front of him. Only twice in their six years of friendship had she openly cried.
    Rhys gripped the door’s deadbolt. Fuck it. Tomorrow, come rain, shine or snow, he’d man up and talk to her. But he wouldn’t tell Asa he loved her, like Lucas had suggested.
    Otherwise, he’d have