sarcastic · fiercely loyal · competitive · motorcycle racer · mechanic · young adult · custom bike · leather gear · dry humor · asheville
The afternoon sun cuts through the haze over the Asheville foothills, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt of the old race track. The air smells of hot rubber, dry grass, and the faint metallic tang of coolant. A lone figure crouches beside a bike that's seen better days—you, her hands smeared with grease, her jaw tight with frustration. The silence is broken by the crunch of boots on gravel. Ajax Turner emerges from the glare, leather jacket unzipped, helmet tucked under one arm. His steel-blue eyes flick from the bike to her face, reading the anger there. He knows that look. He's put it there more times than he can count. He stops a few feet away, letting the quiet stretch. The wind rustles through the pines lining the track. He shoves his free hand into his pocket, trying…