by Lindsay Becs
I think I just found my new pre-race routine.
Chapter 6
Tatum
Things feel so tangled and odd with Benton. We’re hot together when we both give in to the pull between us, but other times it just feels weird. Like now, it’s race day. Today is the big day, for both of us. I haven’t seen or talked to him since he came to my room the other night. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, he was gone.
On my nightstand, my journal was open to a fresh page with a note from him with his number. I haven’t used it though.
My eyes are scanning for him in the crowd. It’s insane here today. All the people—fans, crew, racers, press, Paddock Girls. I knew this was big, but I didn’t realize it was this big. It’s loud with engines roaring, tires squealing, fans yelling, and music playing. Like I said, insane.
I’m in Royal King’s area where I was directed not to leave unless escorted. I’m standing at the entrance with another girl I recognize from weeks before. We’re in our matching Paddock Girl attire and matching hair and make-up. Men stare and take pictures. Racers walk by, giving their looks of appraisal. This is nothing new to them, but I’m sure they appreciate some girls more than others.
“There you are,” a deep, raspy voice that I’ve come to love says from behind me.
I turn to face him, tamping down the smile threatening to break across my face. “Hey. I’ve been searching for you, too,” I tell him as we begin to walk to the track together.
“I’ve been stuck in here. Dad doesn’t want me walking around,” he grumbles.
“You nervous?” I ask
“A little, but soon you’re gonna be standing next to me, and then I’ll feel better. And after this thing, when I’m full of adrenaline, I’m going to kiss that red lipstick off those fuckable lips,” he all but growls, turning me on right as the camera pans to us. Well, shit.
Stacy, the girl working with me, and I are told to walk with Benton as he makes his way around the track. I don’t miss the cocky smirk he gives me when our eyes collide, knowing exactly what he did to me earlier. Raising a challenging brow at him, he bites back a laugh.
We all manage to do our jobs together, posing for pictures and standing there looking pretty. Stacy and I finally get the opportunity to sit after being on our feet for hours and watch on a screen as the race gets ready to start. My feet are throbbing and I’ve got blisters forming, but I still can’t take my eyes off the screen, watching for number thirteen.
He did well yesterday in preliminaries. His starting position is at sixth, which is amazing since it’s his first race. With the bikes all in position, they start their warm-up lap, and the air around the track and in the room shifts. My eyes follow the RK logo with number thirteen on it as he makes his way around the track.
IMR race tracks aren’t like NASCAR. Instead of being an oval, these tracks have crazy turns and curves and straightaways, and each one is very different from the next. Each race varies the number of laps, too. This one, The Piston Ring, has the racers making twenty-six laps to finish the race.
I watch as Benton comes back to the start after completing his warm-up lap. He’s poised and ready to take off. I feel so excited and nervous for him. One by one, all the racers take their starting positions. The lights begin to change colors, and when they hit green, they’re off.
The bikes roar to life as they all try to pull ahead at the start. Benton has already managed to get from sixth to third, but I know this is only the beginning. The next hour has me biting the inside of my cheek with nerves as I watch him. It’s the first time I’ve really watched a race like this. The whole thing has me in a bundle of stress, the way they pass so closely to each other and weave in and out. Not to mention them doing it all at over a hundred miles per hour. These guys are certifiable.
Benton had fallen back to fifth, but with five laps to go, he’s still making his way up. The crew and announcers are going crazy for this new King on the race ring. The last lap has him going head to head, back and forth, with number sixty, Rocco Moretti, but when they pass the finish line, Benton has the advantage and beats him for third place. I’m on my feet screaming along with everyone else. The energy in our Royal King area is explosive.
Travers takes first, as expected, and Alfie, Benton’s friend, takes second with Benton in third place. Benton placing in his first race is going to make quite the stir. Everyone is going to be looking out for this rookie rider to see what he’s going to do next. I’m so excited for him I’m buzzing.
When they finally tell Stacy and me that we’re up, I can’t get there fast enough. He doesn’t miss a beat when our eyes meet, and he rushes to pull me into a hug. “This day just got crazy, Sugar. But I want it to end with you,” he whispers in my ear before pulling away. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch a little, wanting to smile, but I can’t let that happen. Not here. Not now.
“You did good, Benny,” I tell him as I raise my umbrella over his head to shield his highness from the sun. He raises a brow at me in an is that all I get kind of look.
When he takes the podium, I stand behind him to hold his helmet as they give him his medal and trophy. When we move to leave, he takes my hand and pulls me around a corner behind the podium stage.
“What are you doing?!”
He answers with a kiss, pushing his greedy tongue in my mouth. I moan into him and almost drop his helmet. Thank God for stay-all-day lipstick.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he says breathlessly when he pulls away. “Come on, we have to get back. But I mean it. I’m spending tonight with you.”
“OK,” I say, allowing a genuine smile to form on my face for the first time today.
“I really wish you’d do that more. You’re so beautiful, Sugar.” He kisses the corner of my mouth once more before we walk back to where the crew and Matthew are waiting with champagne for us.
I barely have the door to my room closed when there’s a knock, and I know it can only be one person. I open it with a big smile on my face and jump into his arms without him expecting it, but he catches me, holding me tight. He takes the few steps forward to enter my room and closes the door before his lips find mine.
I’m getting addicted to his kisses. His expert lips, the way that metal piercing feels running along my lips and tongue. He tastes like salt and energy drinks and victory. He sucks on my lower lip, sliding his tongue along it. I moan from the feel of his mouth on mine and our bodies pressed so closely together. My skirt is now pushed up around my waist since my legs are wrapped around his middle, and I feel his hard dick between us. My hands are in his hair, arms wrapped around his head pulling him closer to me, wanting to kiss him deeper and deeper.
“Sugar, are you ready for this?” he asks, surprising me by asking and not taking.
I lean back a little to look at him. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, “but I know that this feels good. You feel good.”
He slowly sets me on my feet, and I feel confused. I awkwardly pull my skirt down to cover my exposed ass and then harden my face again to look up at him, arms folded across my chest.
“Don’t do that,” he says roughly.
“What?” I snap.
“Don’t shut off from me. Talk to me.”
“Congratulations on your win, Mr. King,” I reply with a quirked brow and pursed lips. My signature look, the one I’ve perfected through the years.
“Tatum…”
I huff a laugh. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name,” I say, walking over to get a bottle of water. I throw another one at him that he catches when it smacks him in the chest.
“Thanks,” he sighs.
“No problem. Glad I could help fill the void for you here. You can go now. There will be more girls at your next stop, and the one after that, and the one after that. I’ll see you around, Benton.” With that, I walk to my bathroom and slam the door behind me.
The door swings open, and he’s standing there looking ready to attack. “What
the fuck?” he grits out.
We have a stare-off for what seems like hours before he softens and relaxes. “I really like you,” he admits. “I don’t want this to be over, but I understand that I’m traveling on and you aren’t. That’s why I stopped.”
“Yeah. So, I guess we’re done,” I say, turning around to wash my hands.
“Tatum, please. Don’t completely shut me out,” he pleads with me. I look up to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I leave tomorrow. My job is done. I won’t see you again. I can’t do this more.”
“That’s a fucking bullshit reason and you know it.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But it’s the truth.”
“We aren’t done yet. I promise you there’s more to come. You’ll see,” he says as he leaves my room.
When I hear the door shut, a sob instantly bursts out of me. I didn’t want to be done with him, but I needed to be the one to push him away before he left me broken. At least this way it’s on my terms. I can’t blame anyone but myself.
I told myself before I got here that I wasn’t making friends or getting close to anyone. But here I am, again. And not only that, but I’ve been an idiot to get so close to Benton. It does—did—feel real, but also fast and confusing. He’s leaving to travel, with girls throwing themselves at him and I’ll be home.
The next day I had one last meeting with Matthew. He told me how much he loved my work and asked me to come back next season. He wants me to not only continue being the face of Royal King, but would also like me to travel with them around the circuit for the season. It’s a contract and more money than I could have dreamed of this early in my career, and an opportunity I can’t say no to. I signed on the dotted line and agreed to be back next year.
I wanted to ask if it was Benton’s idea but decided I didn’t want to know. I needed to look at it as a job and nothing more.
I packed up the room that had been my home for the last three months and boarded the plane to take me back home to Graves. The last few months have been filled with so many emotions and experiences, but I’m grateful to get back to my family. I miss them so much. I’ve talked to them all periodically, but it’s not the same as seeing them. I’m also excited to eat a real meal for the first time in months. My mouth is watering just thinking about pizza.
“We missed you around here, Tate,” Travis, my brother’s best friend and stepdad, tells me when he picks me up at the airport.
Penny, my little sister, jumps into my arms. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she sniffles into my neck, making me feel bad that I will, in fact, be leaving again.
Travis updates me on what I’ve missed, and it’s mostly about my brother, Ollie, and his girlfriend, Bexley. They are coming to stay the night, and Travis thinks they’re engaged. I don’t think there’s any way my brother will ever settle down, so I take his bet.
I lost.
The five of us spent the night, playing games, gorging on pizza and dirt pudding. This. I missed this. They’re the only people I trust and can be myself with. At least they were the only ones until I met Benton. I wonder what he’s doing but then push the thought out of my mind.
“Who’s the dude who was hugging on you and saying dirty things in your ear?” Ollie asks me after everyone else goes to bed. We finished cleaning up and are having a nightcap of hot cider spiked with Fireball. Ok, so, sometimes I drink.
“Yeah, I got your message,” I say with an eyeroll. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
“We became friends, but I cut it off before it turned into something more.” I shrug. “Nothing else to say. He’s racing and traveling, and I’m here.”
“Until you leave for next season and travel with him,” he says with a smirk.
“Just come out and say it, penis breath.”
“That’s a better name for Bex, than me,” he says, making me gag. “But seriously. You like him. I could tell.”
“He was alright,” I say, not wanting to give him any more information.
“Tatum, I trust you. Just be careful. I worry about you.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Ollie. I’m fine.”
He watches me for a minute, waiting for more, but I don’t give him more. “You know I’m always here if you need anything. Love you, Tates.”
“Stop being so mushy. It’s gross, Ollie.”
He laughs and smooshes a wet kiss on my cheek as he gets up and goes to bed.
Against my better judgment, I send a quick text to Benton and then head to bed myself. I crawl under the sheets, but my mind won’t shut up. I don’t know why I sent Benton that message. Now it’s like this thing dangling in the space between us. I’m such an idiot. It’s probably just going to make things even more awkward when I see him next season. Talk about a major palm-to-face moment. Well, it’s out there. Can’t take it back now.
Chapter 7
Benton
I should be so damn happy right now. I should be out celebrating and getting shitfaced but instead, I’m sitting in my hotel room staring at the text message I got from Tatum a few weeks ago.
After that first race, I was on a high like never before. I’d competed in my fair share of races throughout the years, but none of them felt like that. It was incredible. I wasn’t expected to place above tenth. I showed everyone exactly what I was bringing to the track when I took sixth as my starting position and made it to the podium in third. Talk about an adrenaline rush! I came into the bay and all I wanted was her. The second our eyes met, it was like the icing on the cake. Her blue eyes collided with mine, and it set off the fire in me.
I couldn’t wait to get to her after the ceremony. Everyone wanted me to go out, but all I wanted was to see her, claim her, celebrate her. She looked so damn sexy all day, and not being able to touch her and talk to her was torture. Then, I got her and she pushed me away. Maybe I came on too strong, pushed too hard too fast, but I couldn’t help it. I’d had a small taste of her, and now I want more. Not just her body, but her mind and her heart and her fucking smiles. I know I have to earn each and every one because she doesn’t give them out freely, but I’ll gladly put in the effort.
Is that it? Is it the challenge I can’t walk away from? Maybe. I do love a challenge. I think it’s more than that, though. I’m just not sure exactly what.
So, here I sit, alone, after placing second in the last two races since seeing her, staring at my phone.
Sugar: I’m sorry I pushed you away. It’s better for my heart this way. Good luck!
Good luck. Psh! Does that mean with racing or with getting her? I suppose it works in either instance. I’ve read this stupid message over and over in the weeks since she sent it and still don’t know how to respond. Or if I even should, for that matter.
This is stupid. She didn’t want anything more. She pushed me out, quite literally. I need to move on.
Picking my phone back up I call Alfie to see where he’s celebrating. He’s always up for a pint or two after a race. When he answers, I can tell he’s already a few in. After getting the name of the bar, I grab my jacket and head out, joining him and some other mates from the circuit.
I’m going to enjoy myself and not think about her anymore. Racing. That’s where my focus will be.
TATUM
Travis has let me stay with him and Penny since I got back. Originally, the plan was for me to get my own place, but since I’ll be leaving again in a few months, he told me not to worry about it. He and Penny moved into a smaller house while I was gone. It’s not my house, but it still holds the people I love most inside.
I help with Penny as much as I can when she’s not at school, and during the day I help him at Pretty Girl Garage. Travis has worked there for as long as I can remember and bought it a while back. Ollie and I helped him rename and rebrand it to Pretty Girl Garage before I left. I mostly answer phones and do scheduling and order parts, but since I’ve bee
n back, I’ve asked Travis to start teaching me basics. He laughed in my face at first, but then he realized I was serious.
Hell, Penny probably knows more than I do, and she’s only six. I don’t think I’ll ever trade in my heels for coveralls, but I like knowing how to take care of myself if I needed to.
“Penny, can you hand me that order pad over there?” I ask her. She’s here after school with me while I finish up the parts order for the week. I order everything online, but Travis still fills out on paper what he needs me to buy. That guy will never know how to use a computer, I swear.
“Is this one for the new neighbor?” she asks, looking at the name. This girl is so smart, already reading way more than she should for her age.
I look at the form and read the name, Tilly Lane. “Yep, that’s her. She seems nice. I haven’t talked to her much. Have you or your dad?”
“We say hello sometimes. She brought us those cookies, remember?” she says as she puts her hands on her stomach. “They were so good!”
I grin a little watching her excitement. “I didn’t get one. You and your dad ate them all, you little turd.”
“Maybe if I ask, she’ll make more. She seems kinda lonely,” she says, going back to coloring her picture.
“What makes you say that?” I ask while watching her.
She shrugs her shoulder. “Just seems sad like daddy does sometimes.”
I watch my baby sister, who isn’t a baby anymore, color in her own happy world. She has no idea what she’s missing not having our mom in her life. Yet I envy her for not feeling the same amount of pain we all do since she died.
