Next To You

Walker Ashe never turned on the analytics on his phone. As in, he would prefer not to know how much time he spent scanning social media for his favorite cyclist.

@ezektorz

Looking forward to competing today at the next round of the National @USABMX Freestyle Series! Think I can beat @piercethegovernment?

>>@piercethegovernment

>>I mean, you can hope [winking emoji]

>>>>@ezektorz

>>>>You might offend me one day

>>>>>>@piercethegovernment

>>>>>>Love you! [heart emoji]

Walker liked the post before scrolling over to Instagram to check for a new video. Ezekiel Torrez was never really wordy online, but he always had videos—videos teaching kids how to bike, videos of him learning new tricks, videos training with his friend Pierce Govern.

And Walker watched them all. Sometimes multiple times.

“Walker!”

Sometimes when people were trying to get his attention. Oops. Walker pocketed his phone as Nash Renner sidled over to him with a smirky grin.

“Stalking your biker babe again?” his friend asked, opening his locker to grab his clothes.

Walker did the same, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “Bikers are for motorcyclists, not cyclists.”

Nash gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, just skip over the fact that I called him your ‘biker babe.’ Someone has a crush on him,” he finished in a singsong voice.

“His freestyling his amazing!” Walker insisted. “I mean, in his last competition, he—”

“Okay, so you know that I would normally love to hear about your massive crush,” Nash said, ignoring his noise of protest without missing a beat, “but you were planning on seeing him compete today, right? Probably should shower and get going then.”

Walker jumped to attention. “Thanks, Nash,” he said quickly, shedding his training gear and cleats at lightspeed while wondering how long exactly he had spent on his phone.

Playing soccer professionally for the past six years meant that he was practically an expert in the art of the quick shower, which gave him enough time to not stalk his not crush the second he was dressed. Ezekiel was just a good cyclist who made really impressive videos that he liked to watch.

And Walker was so excited to see him compete as he rushed out of their training facility.

It was hot underneath the September sun, especially in Los Angeles. His car was hot too. But Walker was even hotter as he got closer and closer to combusting from excitement the closer he got to the skate park.

With a baseball cap now settled over his dark hair—more to block the sun than to blend in—he scrambled to his seat in the stands. It was amazing, he thought as he stared down at the skate park with its various ramps and dips and jumps. Amazing that people could actually do this without breaking every bone in their body, that is.

At least with soccer, he always had his feet right there on the ground.

But Ezekiel had his bike. Walker watched as the man stood there with it, chatting idly with a few of the other competitors. Underneath his helmet, Walker knew that he had brown hair. His pale skin reflected the sunlight. He had a lithe body type, but with the tricks he did, he had to be pretty fit.

He looked good. Really good. Which was a perfectly acceptable thing to think platonically.

Admiring his legs as he hopped on his bike was a little less platonic, but oh well.

Walker waited excitedly for Ezekiel as the first few competitors went. Pierce Govern was one of them, showing a few impressive jumps. Walker clapped along with everyone else, ignoring the heat surrounding him and the sun baring down on his shoulders and thanking his genetics for skin that tanned rather than burned.

Then Ezekiel was there with his bike and Walker was on the edge of his seat with every jump and flip. He was doing great, probably well enough to make it to the finals—

Until he fell. It was a heavy fall too, heavy enough that Walker winced and more than a few others gasped, but Ezekiel got right back up to continue. And he fell again. He was probably aching and hurt, but still, he hopped back on his bike.

Walker clapped. Even when Ezekiel fell for a third time, he clapped and cheered. Because he knew that the man was a good cyclist. He knew that no one had good days all the time. And, well, after years spent watching every competition Ezekiel participated in, he also knew that sometimes this happened—the falling.

Whether he was preoccupied or nervous or something, Walker still believed in him and cheered when the man finished and Pierce Govern patted him consolingly on the back. Ezekiel deserved the applause. It took a lot to get back up after making a mistake, and a hugely public one at that.

Walker would know.

A few fans online knew that too.

@nnnoonday

Looks like @ezektorz had a hard time out there today. I mean, three falls?

>>@jayal7

>>What, like you never had a bad day? He did great! [heart emoji]

>>>>@nnnoonday

>>>>Great? He literally ate shit

>>@MetaMet

>>sounds like someone is jealous that they would fall 10 times

>>@CyndyLynn

>>he got up every time I thought it was really inspiring and he can still compete again

>>@jUstinE

>>Lmk when you manage to even ride a bike lolol

Walker scrolled through the comments with a smile. People really knew how to find the most creative gifs to roast someone.

He darkened his phone to refocus on the other cyclists, clapping and watching and otherwise waiting for the crowd to clear. He stood with a stretch, feeling warm underneath the sun as he looked around. The other cyclists were talking now that the competition was over, but Ezekiel was nowhere to be found.

Walker frowned. He hoped at least that wherever the man was, he had an ice pack with him.

Stepping down from the stands, Walker detoured around the crowds. It was even hotter with so many people moving close to each other, so he was definitely sweating by the time he decided to cut through the skate park to find his car.

Which meant that he surely looked like a mess when he spotted Ezekiel Torrez again.

The man was leaning against a handrail watching the cars go by. His bike sat nearby, but he had shed his helmet and pads. The waning afternoon sunlight fell over him in waves. Most people had walked the other way, leaving him in silence. Well, relative silence—the city was never truly quiet, especially not with the spectators talking in the distance.

Walker knew that he should just keep walking. Ezekiel had just had a really bad day and obviously came here looking to be alone.

But he had walked over to the man before he could really process the thought, and was speaking before he could think about why it was a bad idea.

“I thought you were great!” he said a little too loudly. “I mean, I think you always do great when you ride, like you move so well and you have so much energy in everything you do! It makes me want to watch all your videos and things, and I mean, your technique is amazing, and… uh…”

That was when his brain caught up and he realized that he had been rambling. And when he fully processed the fact that Ezekiel was now looking at him with a surprised frown.

Walker was sweating now. Actually, he had been sweating before, but now—yeah.

He was trying to think about how to excuse himself and how fast he could realistically run away when Ezekiel smiled widely.

“Walker Ashe? Wow, I love watching you!” In a flash, Ezekiel was in front of him and chattering excitedly, “I mean, I knew you were in the city for training and games and stuff, but LA is kind of huge, you know? Never really expected to run into you, but wow, you were amazing in your last game! I think I can only move that fast when I’m on a bike.”

He chuckled jovially. They were about the same height. Huh.

Honestly, Walker was so busy just staring that could only think to say, “You watch my games?”

“Sure, I do,” Ezekiel smiled. “I started watching when you were in college. Mostly because my sister was trying to impress a guy who liked soccer, but I was the one who ended up getting into it. You really are amazing,” he said kindly.

Walker had heard the same thing countless times since he was eighteen and just starting out. But nine years and so many compliments later and this was the one that made him feel like jumping like an excited schoolgirl.

“Me? You’re the amazing one,” Walker countered. “I really do watch all your videos.”

He watched Ezekiel flush bashfully in real time. “Really? I guess you saw me fall today then too? Well, of course you did if you’re here.”

“I would be your fan even if you fell ten times,” he insisted without hesitation.

It earned him the sweetest smile. “Ah, well, ah,” he stammered, his face even redder. “That’s just so nice. Man, makes me wish even more that I did better, but my stupid advisor just had to send that email right before the competition today and I just had to read it and get distracted.”

For a guy who always struggled to remember names and dates, Walker sure remembered the most random things. Exhibit A: “Oh, right, you’re getting your Masters.”

Pierce Govern had mentioned it in a post once. Once, as in, probably a year or two ago. And Walker definitely sounded like a stalker now.

Ezekiel didn’t seem to mind though. He nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. And my advisor has really been on my ass about lately. Makes me wonder if I should quit, but ah—you don’t need to know about that. Anyway, thank you. For supporting me, I mean.”

Walker offered him a smile. “Hey, I should be the one saying that.”

“Guess I beat you to it,” Ezekiel smiled back. “Hey, would—”

“Ezekiel! There you are!”

Walker turned to see Pierce Govern running over with barely concealed worry in his cheery expression. The guy more or less raced over to them, already talking before he even skidded to a stop, “I thought you might be hiding somewhere. I know how you get, Ezekiel, so how about we—”

That was when he finally noticed Walker there. It took a second, but his face broke out into a smile. “Hey, Walker Ashe, right? Okay, so Ezekiel just loves you. Like, he buys the shirts with your number on them and watches every game like three times. Oh, and once—”

“Oh my god stop before I rethink our friendship,” Ezekiel interrupted all in one breath, properly red this time.

Pierce placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “Did our time as roommates in college mean that little to you?”

“Yes,” Ezekiel deadpanned. “You spend half your time on social media anyway, so I can just relive it any time I want.”

“My heart,” Pierce said with a choking noise.

Walker smiled, more than a little flattered to hear about the shirt thing and the game thing. It made him feel a little better about religiously watching absolutely everything Ezekiel ever competed in or posted or appeared randomly in. Randomly, as in, there seemed to be a bet or something at the skate park to see who could get the best photo with him in the background.

“Anyway,” Pierce said, abandoning the crocodile tears to ask, “Ezekiel would love it if you—”

“See you later, Walker!” Ezekiel exclaimed, shoving his friend. “Um, message me online? If you want to talk more!”

“You should be proud, Walker—he might actually turn on notifications for you!”

“Keep walking, Pierce!”

Walker was left standing there as Ezekiel waved goodbye and gave Pierce another shove. He was so awed that it took him a second to remember to wave goodbye too before he practically skipped away with a goofy smile on his face.