So did Arrow.
“No worries.” He shrugged. “I paid it.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I growled.
“I’m the one who ate,” he pointed out.
“I’m sorry I ran out like that,” I said, not even bothering to hide the misery in my voice.
“I get it,” he replied, fished the car keys out of his jeans, and started ahead. “C’mon. It’s gonna take my sack three days to thaw if we stand out here any longer.”
I blinked. Watched him walk away.
I wished his jeans were tighter, ‘cause even though they shouldn’t, my eyes searched for a glimpse of his ass.
No questions. No demands. No explanations needed.
Hell, most men would be counting their lucky stars to have a guy (or girl) not want to pick apart their words and actions with a fine-tooth comb.
The rumble of the Camaro cut through the night. The subtle squeak of the windshield wipers brushing away the falling snow was distinct. I started forward, toward the car, toward my ride back to the hotel.
I wasn’t counting my lucky stars tonight.
In fact, I stewed about it the short ride back.
I didn’t want to explain what happened back there. I was relieved he understood enough to just let it go.
Still, at the same time, part of me wanted to explain.
It’s all or nothing. I had to remember that.
If I gave him just a little, he’d end up taking it all.
Pen to paper.
Sign my name.
It wasn’t that easy. Not even when it was something I wanted.
Old habits were hard to break, even harder when those habits were born out of survival. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of the hangar, my eyes roaming over the dips and peaks in the metal as if they held the secrets of life.
The T-shirt under my hoodie carried the scent of pancakes and coffee. I left it on, exchanged my jeans for a pair of pajama pants, and tossed the hoodie on the end of the bed. Every time I shifted against the mattress, a burst of butter and rich carbs mingled beneath my nose. Sometimes I shifted on purpose just so I could inhale the scent again.
I couldn’t get him out of my head. The look on Hopper’s face at the diner when I asked him what broke him or the look in his eyes when I first pulled up to the curb.
He said he didn’t sleep much. I wondered why. When he smiled at me, I wondered when he would do it again, and when he told me he couldn’t do this, I wondered what this was.
Truth was I wasn’t even sure I could do it.
Any of it.
NASCAR, reaching for an actual life, and seeing Hopper without wanting to know everything about him.
Wanting him.
I hadn’t wanted anyone in a very long time. My inexperience was almost crippling. The experience I did have?
Traumatic.
And something more—no one had ever wanted me.
Ever.
Not even my own father.
How could I expect someone to want me now? When I was broken. Used.
Who would choose that? Who would choose half a man when there was an option of someone better, someone whole?
I dozed off eventually. When I woke, the hangar was still dark, but that didn’t mean anything, because it was always dark when the lights weren’t on. There were no windows.
I didn’t bother to glance at the clock. I closed my eyes and wondered what he was doing. If he was wondering what I was doing.
Disgusted with my thoughts, I tossed off the blankets and was slapped with a rush of frigid air.
“Fuck,” I muttered. Once I jammed my feet into my sneakers, I turned on the extra heater and turned up the other one. Then I put on a pot of coffee and grabbed my shit so I could take a quick shower.
There was a small bathroom in this hangar, which was why I stayed in this one. It wasn’t fancy. In fact, it was so basic it was almost a half bath. The shower was small, basically just a corner of the tiny rectangular room, with a plastic shower curtain that drew around to help keep the water contained.
The toilet and sink were rudimentary, and the mirror above the sink was very small.
I didn’t mind it. It might have been nice to have more space, specifically counter space so I could leave my toothbrush and shit out instead of having to keep it in a tote, but whatever.
The water was hot, and that was all that really mattered.
Beneath the spray, I thought again about the contracts in the other room. Once I was dressed, I would sit down and read them. I would make a decision.
You already know what you want.
I grabbed the soap to wash my body. As I scrubbed, the palm of my hand rubbed over some raised scars on my arm. I glanced down. I knew they were there; they always would be. Sometimes I barely noticed them, and other days, they were all I saw. I shoved my arm beneath the spray, watching the suds rinse away to reveal them clearly.
They were a reminder.
Of a dark time.
But also of something else.
Of last night. Of everything Hopper said to me. Of the decision I made to stop hiding, to live instead of merely exist.
What would Lorhaven say? He wasn’t going to be happy, and I wasn’t sure that was something I could ignore.
Once I was completely clean, I shut off the water and dried quickly. After running a comb through my wet hair and doing all the other shit a guy does in the bathroom, I pulled on some clean boxers and the pajama bottoms I had on earlier.
They were thick and soft, kind of like a blanket, a Christmas gift from Joey. They were black with a bunch of yellow emojis all over them. She liked to give me goofy shit. She had told me she liked when I smiled, something I did a lot when she was around.
I kinda liked having a sister. Especially one who liked me for me. I never had to work to impress her or be someone I wasn’t because it was who she expected. In some ways, she and I had a lot in common. We were underdogs. Except she fought against it, but me?
I succumbed to it.
I glanced in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. All I could see was my head in the small square. My hair was a little darker because it was wet, less blond, less wild because I’d combed it down. It didn’t equate to a new me, but maybe someone more improved?
Not anymore, I told myself. No more succumbing.
I pushed my feet into my high-tops (the hard floor was way too cold to just wear socks), grabbed my shit, and walked out of the bathroom.
Cool air brushed over my bare chest, and my nipples tightened. It was warm out here, but not as warm as the bathroom had been.
I dropped my stuff onto the dresser, stepping around to open a drawer to grab a shirt. Movement out of the corner of my eye stopped me.
All the muscles in my body went rigid, adrenaline spiked in my blood, and my entire being went into fight mode. I rotated immediately, my hands ready to strike.
“Whoa,” Drew said, holding up his hands. “I come in peace.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, my arms relaxing. “Don’t you knock?”
Trent moved up beside Drew, both of them dressed casually in jeans and hoodies, but Drew was wearing his signature leather jacket. Trent had on a gray knit cap, pulled low over his ears.
“I thought you giving us the code meant we didn’t have to,” Trent explained.
Drew gave him a sidelong glance and smiled. Trent turned his face toward Drew and winked.
I wasn’t used to seeing such ease in couples. It was like these guys were a TV movie come to life. Like seriously? Did other people actually get along like them?
Yes. They had a whole family of people who were all in love.
It was like the damn Twilight Zone over there. Oddly, I liked it.
“For the record, we honked. And called you. When you didn’t answer—” Drew said, but Trent cut him off to finish the sentence.
“We thought you’d fallen and you couldn’t get up.”
I gave him the finger.
&
nbsp; “Seriously. You should get Life Alert. You live here all alone,” Trent said sagely.
Drew guffawed. “You’d be the youngest dude in history to have it.”
Something in the background of the Trent and Drew Show shifted. My body stiffened again and my eyes sharpened.
Hopper stepped forward from beside the Camaro, where the heater wasn’t blocking him.
My eyesight condensed, almost like tunnel vision, and he was the center of the tunnel. I was surprised to see him. No, actually, I was shocked.
After last night and the way he’d bolted out of the diner and said barely two words on the short drive to his hotel, I thought I wouldn’t see him again until I had a contract to hand him.
But he was here. Now. And he looked good. So good.
No red hat today. Instead, his overly long hair was wild around his head. The dark strands curled out from his neck, flipped out around his ears, and fell over his forehead in waves. There was a shadow on his jawline, and all the dark hair on his head and face only made the lightness of his eyes more startling.
The grey cargo pants looked good on him, accentuating his lower half, not too tight, but not baggy either. With the pants, he wore a white waffle-knit, long-sleeved shirt. It molded against his wide shoulders and draped over his narrow waist. The leather bracelet he always wore on his right wrist was there, thick and dark brown.
I’d never seen him without it (and I looked at him a lot). I wondered if it had some kind of significance.
This unsteady feeling tingled my stomach, and he returned my stare. I watched him swallow, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as his gaze dropped, roaming over my bare chest and farther down my stomach to my lower half.
“Nice pants,” he drawled. His voice was joking, but his eyes were anything but.
I fidgeted under the heat in his gaze. I never knew such icy eyes could produce such warmth. His stare was like a touch, intimate and personal, and it made me hungry for more.
“He was at the gate when we pulled up,” Drew said.
I forced my eyes off of Hopper and back to Drew.
“Thought he was gonna climb the fence,” Trent drawled. “He thought you’d fallen and couldn’t get up, too.”
“I did not,” Hopper muttered.
Trent glanced around at him. “So you were just scaling the giant-ass fence because you planned on robbing the place?”
Hopper muttered something I couldn’t hear, and Trent and Drew laughed.
I watched the three of them like they were aliens and they spoke an entirely different language.
“I honked, several times.” Hopper’s eyes came back to me. A dark cloud passed behind them. “You didn’t answer.”
He’d been worried.
“I was in the shower.”
He nodded, glancing away.
My eyes bounced between Drew and Trent. After a moment, I shook my head and poured some coffee into a mug.
I gestured toward the pot as I took a sip. “Help yourself.” My eyes went back to Hopper, lingering there.
“We came to get you,” Drew announced. “We got plans.”
“Plans?” I echoed, lowering the cup.
“Man stuff.” Trent nodded.
Drew glanced between me and Hopper. “Unless you two are already busy.”
Trent wagged his eyebrows at me.
I wasn’t amused.
“You busy with Arrow?” Drew turned his back to me to fully face Hopper.
“We’re going over contracts.”
“Boring,” Drew declared.
“C’mon. We have shit to do.”
Trent made a sound of agreement. “Dude, put on some clothes, not pants that look like something my granny sent in a text message.”
“Your granny texts you?” I wondered.
“In all emojis. It’s like trying to decode directions in Arabic.”
“Granny’s my favorite person ever.” Drew smiled.
“Dress warm,” Trent ordered. “We’re gonna be outside.”
I glanced back at Hopper. He was watching us all like he was on the outside looking in. I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated it. There was no way I was walking away from him right now. I was shocked he was here, and yeah, he probably did just want to go over the contracts, but I’d take it.
“You busy today?” Drew asked him before I could decline their order to dress.
He shook his head.
“When do you have to be back at headquarters?” Trent asked.
He glanced at me. “When I have a signed contract.”
“So you got time,” Drew said. “You can come, too.”
“Come where?” he asked, suspicious.
“To have fun.” Drew pulled his keys out of his pants and walked toward the door. “We’ll wait outside.”
Trent followed along behind Drew but stopped by Hopper. “Might wanna borrow a shirt or two from Arrow. It’s cold as hell outside.”
“Five minutes!” Drew called, and then the pair were gone.
I was still standing there in my pajamas with no shirt, wondering what the fuck was going on.
“I, ah, hope it’s okay they let me in,” Hopper said, slightly awkward.
“It’s cool,” I said, turning toward my dresser. My stomach was bunching up beneath my ribs. Suddenly, the garage felt twice as small with the two of us standing in it.
“I’ll be at the hotel. You can come by when you’re done with them if you want to go over the papers.”
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked, glancing up.
“I’m pretty sure that was a polite invite.”
I made a sound. “Trent and Drew aren’t polite. If they invited you, it’s because you’re welcome.”
He hesitated like he wasn’t sure what to say. I felt the war inside him. He wanted to come, but at the same time he didn’t.
I cocked my head to the side. “Were you really gonna climb the fence?”
His eyes flashed. “You didn’t come out. I waited and waited. I don’t have your number. I thought something might be wrong.”
He was worried. Worried enough to consider breaking into this place. I set down the coffee, closing the distance between us until I could touch him if I wanted.
“Let me see your phone.” I held out my hand.
He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me, screen up. I pulled up the contacts and added in my cell. When I was done, I handed it back. “Here. Now you have my number.”
It took him a minute to take the phone. His gaze lazily perused the sleeve of tattoos down my arm, caressing my chest and my still-tight nipples. But I wasn’t cold, not anymore. Now they were hard because of him.
No one had ever wound me up like this before. No one had ever been able to make me forget all the reasons I didn’t like to be touched with just a look.
His eyes still on me, Hopper took the phone. Our fingers brushed together, something I thought might have been intentional.
“So you’re here until I sign?” I asked, moving back across the room.
“Yeah.”
I opened my dresser drawers and pulled out some jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a thick hoodie, and a knit hat.
I glanced back at Hopper. He was watching me. I found a blue hoodie and tossed it his way. “Here.”
He snagged it out of the air and looked between me and the shirt. I smiled and quickly dressed, pulled on the hat, and then reached for the waistband of the pajamas. “You mind?”
He shook his head.
In one quick movement, the pants were gone. You could have heard a pin drop in the room when I tossed them aside and picked up my jeans.
My heart was beating rapidly; a fine tremor shook my hands. I wanted to turn and glance at Hopper. God knew I could feel his stare.
But I was afraid to look. Afraid of what I’d see.
Instead, I ignored the desire in my veins and hurried to dress.
Once the jeans were on, I busied myself turning off the coffee pot and the two heaters
. After that, I found a pair of gloves, shoved my phone in my pocket, and picked up the blue coat on a nearby workbench.
“C’mon. You can ride with me,” I said, still avoiding his stare as I moved toward the door.
He caught my wrist. His strong hand pulled me around. “Hey.”
I glanced down to where he held me. He didn’t let go.
“You sure you want me to come?”
“No.”
He didn’t seem surprised or even offended. I knew he wouldn’t. I could see the same feelings reflected in his eyes.
Beneath his grip, my wrist rotated. I lifted my hand and wrapped it around his, long enough to give it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go.”
He pulled back and slid my hoodie over his body. It fit him a little more snugly than it did me, but just about all my clothes were baggy on me. I liked it. It made me feel possessive, sort of like a part of me claimed him.
“Where the hell are we going?” he wondered as the garage door slid up. Inch by inch, the winter’s day view revealed itself to me.
More snow had fallen since last night. Even though the sun was high in the sky, it just wasn’t hot enough to melt any of it. There were several inches now. It created an undisturbed white blanket over the entire airstrip. Off in the distance, it glistened where the sun hit it, making it reflect light like an expensive diamond.
Trent and Drew sat in Trent’s steel-colored Mustang, and they gestured for me to follow them. I waved and slid into the driver’s seat of the Camaro.
Hopper climbed in beside me. I didn’t resist the urge to look at him.
“I have no idea,” I answered his previous question. “With Drew and Trent, it’s hard to say.”
In all honesty, I didn’t care where we were going, not when Hopper was riding shotgun.
Yes, I debated scaling a large fence.
Yes, I got caught by two bigmouths.
No, I didn’t want to talk about it.
And now?
Now here I was on a huge piece of private property, standing in front of four snowmobiles.
My stomach was churning. The cramps twisting my guts were uncomfortable as hell. In fact, they made it near impossible to stand still.
Sure, for most anyone—especially four guys in the racing business—a day spent zooming over freshly fallen snow on top-of-the-line snowmobiles sounded like hella fun.
#Blur (The GearShark Series Book 4) Page 15
