So here we go.

He fits behind me, placing his hands on my hips. Kaleb shifts off to my left, and I think Jake steps in, stopping him.

I lean back into Noah, the air hitting my bare stomach as I arch my back a little.

“Not too close,” someone tells Juno. “She’s his cousin.”

Noah snorts, his chest shaking against my back.

I clench my teeth. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

I roll my eyes. I guess I should laugh, too, or I’ll cry. The cousins in this house are so much closer than they realize. My hips are the least of what Noah has touched.

Before I can stop myself, my gaze flashes to Kaleb. He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, and his expression more pained than I’ve seen it. He stares at us—at me—like something he’s already lost, and he hasn’t the slightest clue how to get back what he wants most in the world.

All he has to do is talk. Find a way to communicate.

I let my eyes fall as I cock my head to the side and turn it for a candid shot, because I can’t look at the camera in case I’ve ruined my mascara.

“I love that, Tiernan,” Juno coos. “You look amazing, honey.”

I rest my hands on my thighs, lifting my chin a little. I guess the point of this is to feature the young faces of Van der Berg Extreme, and Noah knew this wasn’t Kaleb’s thing. I’m glad it’s Noah behind me, though. He’s who I’m safe with.

“Look at him now,” Juno tells me.

My throat tightens, and I’m overwhelmed. I take some deep breaths, trying to get my head back in the game.

“Look at me, Tiernan,” Noah whispers.

Slowly, I look up, meeting his eyes over my shoulder.

The photographer snaps some shots.

“We’re not letting you go,” he murmurs to me, so no one else can hear. “This is family.”

I can’t help but smile. For better or worse, I’m not escaping them, am I? This is family.

They won’t run from me, and no matter what happens with Kaleb and me, I love Jake and Noah, too. They lend credence every day to what happened to me and to my need to be in this. They validated me when I had nothing.

Jake was holding onto his past and punishing himself, just like me. Noah had no one to talk to, just like me. Kaleb struggles to connect, because of his pain of being forgotten by someone who should’ve loved him enough never to forget.

Just like me.

They lend truth to the fact that I was lost, and it was okay to be hurt. We found each other, and no matter what anyone would say about what happened up here this winter, I’m the only one who needs to understand.

“Lean into him, Tiernan,” Juno instructs.

I do as she says and lean into Noah, looking up at him, a small grin I can’t help but feel spreading across my lips. He winks at me.

“That’s good.” A few more snaps go off. “Now, Noah, look off to the side and down.”

He hesitates, but finally, he looks away, looking like Kaleb as he stares off like the tortured hero.

“Oh, that’s great. You both look great!”

I slide off the bike and climb on behind him now, spreading my knees and placing my hands on his waist.

“Looking good,” Juno says, moving around us to take more shots.

I hear someone giggle and look up to see a few more people have arrived, racers and their girlfriends whom I vaguely remember hanging around the shop last fall.

One girl stands next to Kaleb and stares at him, looking nervous but smitten.

I gulp. At least he’s not paying her any mind.

“Now, Noah, off the bike,” Juno says. “Tiernan, I want you to lean forward and grab the handlebars. Noah, do the same from the other side, straddle the front wheel, and challenge each other. Kind of like siblings.”

Noah laughs again but follows orders. I scoot up in the seat, both feet on the ground, while Noah plants both legs on either side of the front wheel and leans into me, holding the handles.

“Tiernan, can you arch your back?” she asks.

I do, jutting out my butt a little more as the muscles in my thighs flex.

“More, honey.”

I sigh, trying to lean forward more and stick out my ass.

But Noah urges me further. “More,” he whispers. “Like you’ve got a man behind you.”

I arch an eyebrow. Leave it to him to make some sexual joke right now.

I dart my gaze to Kaleb, seeing his eyes crinkled at the edges as he watches us. The girl has moved away a step, but she’s still swooning.

No short supply of women to take his mind off me once I’m gone, I guess.

“You ready to go to L.A.?” I ask Noah as Juno takes our picture.

“I’ve been ready. You?” he challenges. “You ready to get the fuck out of this dump?”

I want to shoot him a look, but I don’t want to lose the shot.

“I don’t want him to be angry with you,” I tell Noah, referring to Kaleb.

If I leave with Noah, Kaleb will assume the wrong thing.

“If he wants to follow us and bring you back, then maybe that’s what he needs to do,” Noah retorts. “If not, I get you to myself. Win, win.”

I fluff my hair and adjust my stance. “You don’t want me. You want to race.”

“I’d love my family with me, though.”

Yeah.

I can do that.

“I’m not letting you go,” I tell him.

He smiles. But then he stops, remembering himself.

He glances off toward Kaleb and then back to me. “He’s five seconds from rearranging my face.”

I could care less if Kaleb is angry.

“Ugh, doesn’t that just take the cake?” someone says somewhere by the doors. “I love women in that position. All she’s gotta do is hold it like that.”

Someone chuckles, but I don’t know who. I ignore them.

“She’s carrying herself a little hotter than last fall,” the same guy says. “Wonder what changed?”

“I don’t know, but I’m wishing I was locked up here with her all season,” the other man adds.

There’s a shuffle, a gasp, and then all hell breaks loose as a table topples over and shouting ensues.

“Kaleb!” Jake shouts.

I shoot up, watching as Kaleb throws one of the racers down on the floor of the shop and Jake rushes in to haul his son back. Juno and the stylists rear back, out of the way, and the girls who came with the guys stumble out into the driveway.

I climb off the bike, seeing Noah rush over and keep Kaleb back as his dad picks up the guy off the ground.

“Motherfucker!” the guy growls at Kaleb.

But Jake pushes him and his friend out of the shop. “Hit the road,” he tells them. “Closed shoot, you little shits!”

Those must’ve been the jerks making remarks.

Kaleb goes after him again, but Jake is quick to catch him. “Stop!” he yells. “Stop it right now.”

He points in his son’s face, but Kaleb is seething. The racers take their girls, climb on their bikes, and speed off, everyone in the shop standing around, shaken.

Finally, Jake just waves them off. “Alright, that’s enough,” he bites out. “We’ve got what we need.”