“Julien, are you drunk?”
Not too drunk to give him my middle finger, even with my face smashed in the sofa cushion. Ryder’s booming laughter makes my head throb. “Please be quiet,” I mumble into the cushion. I hear Ryder walk away and then noises from in the kitchen. I want to die. I roll over and make several grabs for my phone in my back pocket.
Me: Never drinking again. Ur evil.
Ten seconds later.
Liz: Poor baby (insert mwah ha ha evil laugh)
Liz: Did you Uber home ok?
Me: Yes. Dying now.
Liz: Get some sleep, pretty boy.
Me: Nite.
Liz: Goodnight, Julien.
I throw my phone across the floor and collapse back again. When I next open my eyes, Ryder is thrusting some nasty green shit in a glass at me and a couple of pain relievers.
“Drink this, followed by the these. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
Feeling like a newborn babe on trembling arms, I sit up halfway to take the stuff. I eye the green liquid for a long time and then say fuck it. Nothing can be worse than the pounding in my head.
“This stuff’s rancid,” I complain as I guzzle it all, and then down the pills. Ryder takes the glass from me and sets it on the coffee table.
“Where’s Jay?”
Ryder sits on the sofa arm next to my head. “At a fight. Where else.”
“That why you’re still up?”
“Among other things. How did tonight go with Elizabeth?”
I had texted him and Jay earlier to let them know we were hanging out. Jay was not happy at all. That’s probably why he went to fight tonight. Lots of anger needing to find an outlet.
“We went to Belly’s. We danced. We sang bad karaoke. She drank me under the table.” Wow. I’m amazed I can actually speak coherent sentences. Maybe I’m not that drunk after all.
Ryder laughs again and stops abruptly. I wince. Okay, maybe I am that drunk. “Wait. You bought her alcohol? Elizabeth doesn’t drink.”
“She does now,” I tell him.
Ry thinks about that new revelation. Just another facet of Liz’s new self that we are discovering and learning about. “I’m glad she had a good time with you. Come on. Let me help you to bed.”
I’m too tired and too dizzy to get up on my own, so Ryder hefts me up and puts an arm around my waist to drag my ass to my room. He tosses me onto my bed and pulls off my shoes. I snuggle down in my pillows. They’re soft like Liz’s kiss.
“She’s a great kisser,” I mumble before passing out.
Chapter 7
Ryder
Fallon’s leaning back against the pit wall when I pull in with his Radical RXC. Driving cars on a track, whether it’s dirt or paved, has always given me a rush and this time is no different. I remove my helmet after getting out of the car and shake out my sweat-soaked hair, then unzip the coverall until the top part hangs down from my hips.
“How’d it feel?”
“Traction isn’t the best, but otherwise drives pretty well.”
I could have told him it was the best car ever and he would still buy a new one in a week. It’s just how Fallon’s made. Sometimes I wonder if my family was as wealthy as his, would I be the same as Fallon, spending money left and right, never settling on one thing. Never happy.
“Thanks for letting me drive it.” I pull off my gloves. My watch lets me know Elizabeth should be arriving soon. She and I planned on her meeting me here at four.
“Hey, Fallon. Can you do me a favor, man?”
“Possibly. Whatd’ya need?”
However I say it, I’m going to sound like a dick. Fallon used to make Elizabeth uncomfortable. He was always watching her at the Fields or at parties. I never could figure out if he liked her or what, but she told me on more than one occasion that he acted weird around her. Perhaps it’s because Elizabeth was one of the only girls who never showed any interest in him. Maybe he thinks she’s a challenge. Who knows? Regardless, I want her to feel at ease today and have fun with me.
“Elizabeth is stopping by and I don’t want you to freak her out.”
As soon as I mention Elizabeth’s name, he stands up straighter, his eyes get brighter. He’s not so relaxed anymore.
“You found her I take it?”
“Yeah. We found her.”
“And?”
“And she has amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything.”
Out of all the reactions I expect, his hysterical laughter is not one of them.
“What the fuck, man,” I glower at him.
He looks at me, tears of mirth in his eyes. “Oh that’s fucking awesome,” he cackles. “She seriously has no memory? Like none?”
Getting pissed, I answer no.
“I bet Jay has lost his fucking mind. Am I right? Oh, yeah. I’m right.” He laughs again. “This is good, no?”
“What the hell do you mean, good? Her life is a blank. It’s nothing to be happy about. Her doctors don’t know if she’ll regain even partial memory. She’s starting from scratch. We’re all starting from scratch.”
“But that’s a good thing.” He slaps me on the back.
Is it a good thing? Before I can respond to what he said, a text from Elizabeth pops up telling me she’s here.
“She just arrived. Please don’t be here when we come back. We’ve already scared the crap out her once this week.” I can tell Fallon wants to ask about that but I cut him off, “I’ll explain later.”
Fallon holds his hands up in the air like he’s at a stick up. “Got it. Tell kitten I said hi,” he adds and saunters to his car. With a power slide and a hand salute out the window, he drives off toward the exit.
Me: On my way. Will meet you at front.
Elizabeth: So excited!
Me too.
I make my way to the front of the building where Elizabeth is waiting for me at the glass entryway doors. She’s bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet like an excited puppy. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tank top; her long hair is twisted in a low bun at the nape of her neck. Elizabeth has always taken my breath away and today is no different. She sees me heading her way and rushes over to throw herself in my arms.
“Thank you for inviting me. I’ve been looking forward to today all week.” She pulls back from her hug. “Drew and Daniel want pictures and videos.”
“They aren’t worried about you driving on a racetrack?”
“Compared to what I’ve been through, this is nothing. They want me to experience every new thing I can. Including today. So, where do we start?”
“First we need to get you a helmet and coveralls. Just to be on the safe side, I would also like for you to wear a HANS device to protect your head and neck. You might find the HANS a little weird, but you’ll soon get used to it. Come on.” I take her to a counter where an older woman is flipping through a catalog. “Hey, Georgia. This is Elizabeth, the girl I told you about.”
Georgia looks up and her wrinkled eyes crinkle. “Oh my. Ryder, you never said how pretty she was. You are just a looker aren’t you, darlin’?”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth politely replies, holding her hand out in greeting.
Georgia takes her hand between both of her much older ones and squeezes. “I’ve got the perfect helmet and coveralls for ya, darlin’. They’re pink and everything. You’ll love them.”
“Could you grab her a HANS device as well?” Ryder asks her.
“No prob, darlin’. I’ve got ya covered.”
While we wait for Georgia to return, Elizabeth takes the time to scan the building we’re in. Racing paraphernalia, clothing, gloves, helmets, anything and everything a fan of racing would want, is stacked, piled, placed, and hung throughout.
“How many women come here to drive?” Elizabeth asks me.
“Believe it or not, more than you’d think. They do private and group lessons, public event days where anyone can bring their own car and drive it around the track. Race nights where you can do the same
and pit your car up against someone’s else’s. Then there’s the professional circuit races that happen here.”
“So how long have you been racing?”
“Since I could reach the gas and brake pedals. Dad taught me. You used to come out with us a lot and would passenger in the back.”
Her eyes get big. “Wow. We must have had a lot of great times.”
“The best.”
“I always wondered why I was so drawn to my red beauty. Is yours here?”
“It’s out by the track.”
“I can’t wait to see it in person. I have a feeling the pictures you showed me don’t do it justice.”
Georgia comes back out and hands Elizabeth a bright pink helmet and matching coveralls which Elizabeth gushes over saying they’re the most awesome things in the world. After Elizabeth finishes filling out a lot of liability paperwork, I thank Georgia and escort Elizabeth outside to get her car.
“Wait. Don’t I have to pay or something?”
“Already taken care of. All you have to do is have fun.”
“Thank you so much, Ryder.” She stops me to lift up and press a kiss to my cheek. It’s completely innocent but my body reacts quite differently. I play it cool not wanting her to see how much her kiss affects me.
We approach a shiny red Hellcat, the one I saw in her apartment’s parking lot. “This is it?”
Her car looks exactly like mine except for the paint color. Same exterior mods and all. It makes me curious to see the inside.
“Yep. This is Stella.”
“You named your car Stella?” I practically yell at her, causing her to jump and look at me with confusion.
“Yes. Stella is a good name. Do you have a problem with it?”
“Elizabeth. You named my car Stella.” Her mouth forms the cutest “O.”
“You’re shitting me?”
“You did.”
She throws back her head and lets out a huge laugh. “Jesus Christ, Ryder. You’ve been living in my brain this entire time. Why is it that you’re the one person out of all four of you guys that I can remember in any capacity?”
That’s a great question. Is it just random coincidence or something more? Why me and not Jay?
I’m still wearing my racing gear, so I have her slip on the coveralls and help adjust the pink helmet on her head. I fix the bulky HANS device across her shoulders and clip it into the helmet. She watches my eyes closely the entire time. The focus she has on me right now is a bit unnerving and adds to the already heightened senses her cheek kiss ignited.
“You know, I really like your eyes. You have a bit of green mixed in with the light brown and yellow.”
I mentally warn myself not to do something stupid. The urge to wrap my hand around her neck and smash my mouth down on hers is overwhelming. I make some final adjustments and drop my hands from her helmet, then I put on my own. “Ready?”
Full grin. “Oh, yeah. But this thingy makes it hard to turn my head.”
“That’s the point. With your head injury, I don’t want to have your neck whipping around.”
“That’s very considerate of you, Ryder. I promise not to complain anymore about it.”
She gets in the driver’s seat of her car and I get in the opposite side. And just like I suspected, she has bucket seats that are black with a red stripe down the middle. The dash is a bit different than mine, which is a custom job I did myself using swirled steel. It takes a while for Elizabeth to get comfortable in her seat with all the racing gear she’s wearing. I hand her some gloves.
“Okay. Let’s start her up and drive to the start line. Did you remember to bring the red key I texted you about?”
Elizabeth holds the red key up. “I left the black key at home.”
I give Elizabeth instructions on how to set her Hellcat up for the track. “First, turn the engine on, then hit the Track button on your menu screen.” Once she does this, I show her how to fully turn off her traction control.
“Is that it?” she asks me.
“Yep, you’re good to go. You’ll want to drive through that open gate over there,” I point out. “Keep in mind that your car will now have a bit more power than you’re used to. The first part of the course is a straightaway so you can let her go as fast as you’re comfortable with. Then I’ll teach you how to drift.”
We drive through the gate and onto the track. “This is going to be so good.” I can feel her excitement and enthusiasm. It’s contagious. “Alright,” she says, shifting into first gear while applying the brake. “Here we go!”
She stomps on the gas, drops the handbrake, and does a few wheel spins before her tires find some grip and we speed off down the straightaway. I watch her handle the car like a pro, her grip on the steering wheel perfect, her reaction times excellent, her shifting from one gear to the next smooth. Could her brain subconsciously recall all the times she was with me in the car watching me do the same things? She never drove like this before and I’m utterly fascinated by it all.
Elizabeth keeps the gas pedal down until the car reaches a hundred miles per hour before she lets out a whoop and slows down to a steady fifty.
“Ready to try drifting?” I ask her.
“Hell yes. Bring it on.”
“There’s a wide part of the track coming up in about a tenth of a mile. Drop your speed down until you’re going about twenty miles per hour. What you’re going to do when you approach the corner is come in wide and turn the wheel sharply. As you turn, gradually add power with the accelerator until you feel the back tires start to slide. When that happens, you’ll want to ease off the throttle a tiny bit and turn your steering wheel in the opposite direction. Don’t lose your grip on the wheel or things will get very hairy, real quick. Once you’re in the drift, use the steering wheel to keep yourself pointed where you want to go, and use the throttle to adjust how much you want the car to slide out. When you want to come out of the drift, ease the throttle again until the back wheels come back into a forward alignment. We can try it as many times as you need. No pressure and don’t rush it, and don’t worry if you spin the car because, trust me, you will until you get the hang of it. Got it?”
Elizabeth’s face scrunches up in concentration. She rolls her shoulders a few times and re-grips the steering wheel. “Got it.”
“Here we are. Drop your speed to twenty. Brake and turn, now!”
She listens and follows my instructions, never once complaining or getting upset when it doesn’t happen right away. By the fifth try, she has it.
“Atta girl!”
We circle the track several more times and she executes a drift every time. Some aren’t pretty and one time I think we’re going to fly off the course into the side barrels. We come back around and she puts the car into neutral and lets it idle.
Elizabeth’s smile is wide. “That was awesome!” she exclaims and tries to turn her head to face me but the HANS prevents the movement. She bursts out laughing at herself and my heart does a Grinch where it grows two sizes larger at the sound. “Alright, big man. Your turn.”
“You want me to drive your car?”
“Yes, I do. I want to see what you can do.” No way am I going to pass up that invitation. We get out to walk around and exchange seats.
I feel a little bad when I see that her tires are already shredded. With how much fun she was having, I completely forgot about the damage all that drifting would do to her tires. I send a quick text to Fallon and ask him if he could get some replacement tires sent to the track within the next hour. He responds immediately with a thumbs up. It’s a perk of having a rich-assed friend. I need anything, Fallon will make sure it happens. In return, he gets free car work done at my dad’s garage and knows that no matter what, I will have his back.
I store my phone in her glove compartment. “Buckle up, darlin’. You’re about to have the ride of your life,” I tell her.
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
Chapter 8
Elizabet
h
The CU campus, even in the heart of summer’s unrelenting heat, is vibrantly green and lush. Various fragrant blooming flowers and plants burst with a kaleidoscope of colors. Old beech, cedar, oak, and poplar trees expand their top canopies to give plentiful shade throughout the grounds. I like it because it’s a great place to write music, and today, I’m inspired to do just that.
As I strum my guitar, my thoughts keep going back to Ryder. What is it about him that I am so drawn to? It’s ridiculous how often I look at my phone hoping he’s texted me again. When we were at the track last Saturday, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. There is just something about him that causes my body to react, my stomach to flip, and my heart to race. And the man put new tires on my car. For me, that’s way better than getting a bouquet of flowers. I was shocked to see the damage the tires endured at the track, but it was so worth it.
A hot breeze eddies around the tree, ruffling my hair. Pulling my long locks over one shoulder, I readjust the guitar in my lap and play a few measures. Closing my eyes, I hum a melody to go with the notes my fingers are playing.
“I thought that was you.”
Opening one eye, I squint up to find Ryder standing next to me. He’s wearing a dark gray T-shirt with a Randy’s Garage logo across it. A curl of his hair falls over his forehead as he looks down at me, and I feel that stomach flip.
“Hey,” I manage to answer.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all. Please,” I reply, motioning for him to sit down beside me. I can smell the soap he used this morning wafting off his tanned skin and my damned stomach does yet another little cartwheel. My verbal acuity goes all tongue-tied and I don’t know what to say to him. It’s like his close proximity is a cue for my hormones to go haywire.
“What were you playing?” Ryder asks, thankfully interrupting my sudden social awkwardness.
“To be honest, I don’t really know. I was just messing around.”
“Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful. Then again, I always loved to hear you play.” The smile he graces me with captivates me and I just stare at him. What the hell is wrong with me?
Paper Stars Rewritten: Fallen Brook Series: Book 2 Page 7
