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The vest, a gift given long ago, peeled away from Steve’s skin like Velcro. The road had ripped a wide, raw path down his back. On Main Street, between the circling cop cars, a path of flesh probably ran from a pothole to the flaming wreckage of Steve’s bike.
A foot to the left and he would have died.
“No more,” Eddie said. “I mean it, Steve. I’m through with this.”
“I’m almost done,” Steve said. “I wiped out pretty far from the finish, but people were still talking. I just need an invite to the next one, and then I’m practically racing for the pot.”
“Did you not hear me?”
“Just a few more, I promise,” Steve said.
Eddie shut his eyes and withdrew his hand from Steve’s back. The cool press of a wet rag and antiseptic already left Steve wincing with every pass. He didn’t need to make it worse by adding anger to the mix.
“Are you joking?” Eddie asked. “Are you that much of an adrenaline junkie? Can’t get used to living without your parent’s money? Or is it a jock thing? Bunch of people cheering on the street is the closest you can get to the glory days?”
“What are you talking about?” Steve asked.
“I’m trying to figure out why you keep trying to get yourself killed! What’s wrong with you?”
Steve’s eyes did a terrible thing when he was hurt. They went watery and impossibly wide, a clear window to the bruised heart in his core.
“It’s a lot of money,” Steve said quietly. “We could live in an apartment that isn’t a complete shithole. I could replace your guitar. Take you out to a nice dinner.” He fiddled with his thumb, self-conscious in all the ways Eddie liked least. “I just want to take care of you like you deserve.”
Eddie sighed and spun around to sit on Steve’s miraculously unharmed lap, suffering through a beautiful view of those lethal, puppy-dog eyes.
“Sweetheart, I grew up in a trailer park,” Eddie said. “I don’t need any of that.”
“Don’t you want it?” Steve asked.
“Maybe,” Eddie said. “Not like this, though. A life full of fancy shit isn’t worth anything without you in it. No more, okay?”
Steve raised his arms, gasping when he couldn’t manage it without a stab of pain. Racing put a simple hug out of reach; that seemed to reach him as effectively as anything Eddie said.
“Okay. No more.”