Revved

by Samantha Towle

  Since Carrick.

  “What’s everyone else drinking?” Carrick asks.

  A multitude of drink orders are shouted at him, mostly beer.

  “I’ll give you a hand at the bar,” Ben offers, laughing.

  I feel a hand—his hand—on my shoulder, and I freeze.

  “What about you?” Carrick asks, his voice low.

  Tipping my head back, I glance up at him, making sure to keep my expression blank. “What about me?”

  Something flickers through his eyes, but it’s gone before I can get a read on what it was.

  “Drink—can I get you one?”

  “No. I’m good. Thanks.” I point at my beer on the table.

  He stares at me for a beat. “All right then.” He gives me a sharp nod and walks away.

  Without control, my eyes follow him inside the bar.

  Berating myself for staring, I do a quick glance of the table to make sure no one saw me watching him. Then, I relax in my seat. Well, relax as best as I can with Carrick and his girl here.

  I can feel the presence of her sitting beside me like a thorn in my side.

  I know I’m flat-out ignoring her, and my mother didn’t raise me to treat other women this way.

  She always says, “As women, if we can’t respect one another, then how can we expect men to respect us?”

  Treat someone how you want to be treated, Andi.

  Being in the modeling industry, my mother encountered a lot of bitchy women, and it taught her not to be the same, and that’s what she taught me.

  But right now, I am acting like one of those bitchy women, and I don’t like myself for it.

  So, even though talking to Carrick’s girl is the last thing I feel like doing, I force the politeness in me, push my phone into my pocket, and turn to her.

  Seeing how pretty she is up close makes me feel even worse.

  Suck it up, Andi. She hasn’t done anything to you, and she doesn’t deserve for you to be a bitch to her. Your issue is with Carrick, not her.

  “Hi,” I say, smiling.

  Turning her head, she gives me a blank look. “Er, hello.” Then, she turns away and gets her phone out of her bag.

  Okay…that was a little odd. Maybe she’s just shy.

  I scramble around my head for something else to say. “So, are you on holiday in Monaco or just here for the race?”

  She pulls her eyes from her phone to look at me again. She gives me a stare that can only be described as stupid—as in, she thinks I’m stupid. “Um, both.”

  Ignoring the stupid stare, I smile again and say, “Cool. So, when did you get in?”

  She sighs loudly, giving me the impression that I’m annoying her. “This afternoon with Carr.”

  She came in from the UK with Carrick?

  I feel like I’ve just had a defibrillator to the chest. I actually jolt in my seat, and my breath whooshes out of me, right along with these words, “You came with Carrick? From the UK? On the plane? Together?” I know I sound a little odd, but I don’t care.

  “Didn’t I just say that?” She gives me a sharp look. “Of course I came with Carr. I am his girlfriend. And he practically begged me to come, couldn’t bear to be away from me. So, I said, ‘What the hell?’ I have a few days off work, so why not?” She lifts her hand and starts to examine her nails.

  His girlfriend? I feel like I’ve just been punched in the face.

  How long has she been his girlfriend? I didn’t know Carrick did girlfriends. Was she his girlfriend when he had sex with me?

  Something strange, solid, and cold settles in my stomach.

  I pick up my beer and take large gulps just for the need to do something aside from vomit or maybe scream.

  I’ve just finished swallowing when I hear the rattling sound of disgust come from my neighbor.

  “Ugh, I don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”

  I drag my eyes to hers. I see that she’s staring at my beer like I just drank rat poison.

  “Beer?”

  “Yes, it’s so…disgusting. Just having it near me makes me want to be sick.” She wrinkles up her nose.

  And I have the sudden urge to punch it.

  So much for me respecting other women.

  I’ve just lowered my glass to the table, when she says, “So, who are you anyway? I mean, why are you here? Are you someone’s girlfriend or something?” She wafts a hand at my friends around the table.

  “No!” I let out a little laugh, shaking my head. “I work for Rybell.” I can tell from her expression that she has no clue what that means, so I clarify, “I work for Carrick.”

  That gets her attention because I see her gaze sharpen, and she starts to appraise me in a whole new light. I’m pretty sure, in this moment, if she didn’t before, she now sees me as competition for Carrick’s attention, and that makes her instantly dislike me.

  I feel like telling her not to worry. I’m definitely not competition for her. Carrick is barely talking to me, let alone anything else.

  I can see she’s about to question me further, but Carrick and Ben return with the drinks, halting all conversation.

  “Sienna, here’s yours.” Ben hands her a fancy-looking cocktail.

  Sienna—so that’s the girlfriend’s name.

  “Thank you,” she says in a sickly sweet voice.

  After handing everyone’s drinks out, Carrick pulls up a chair beside Sienna and takes a sip of his beer. Seeing that he’s drinking beer tugs a smile onto my lips, knowing just how much his girlfriend hates it.

  Girlfriend. The word keeps crushing my insides to dust.

  As I move my eyes away from him, I see Sienna is staring at me.

  She knows I was looking at him.

  Feeling uncomfortable, I say the first thing that pops into my head, “So, what do you do for a living, Sienna?”

  She gives me a confused look. “I’m in The Diamond Babes.”

  The Diamond Babes?

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is.” I give an awkward smile.

  I hear a covered laugh, and I’m pretty sure it comes from Carrick, but it’s hard to be sure as I can only see the back of his head because he’s faced away, talking to Robbie.

  Sienna makes a sound of total disgust, her face screwing up. “You don’t know who we are? How is that even possible?”

  I’m kind of feeling stupid right now, like I should know who these Diamond Babes are.

  “The Diamond Babes are a girl band from the UK,” Ben kindly informs me. “They’re quite popular.”

  “We’re not ‘quite’ popular.” She air quotes.

  I really hate air quotes.

  “We’re the biggest girl band in the UK,” she corrects him very loudly.

  “Right…” Ben utters before sipping on his drink.

  I give an awkward smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t know who you—the band are. I only recently moved back to the UK. I’ve lived in Brazil for the last fourteen years. And I’m not very up on your kind of music.”

  “My kind of music?” She lifts a perfectly plucked brow. “I’m assuming you mean the good kind.”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I mutter before picking up my beer and taking a drink.

  I hear another catch of laughter, and from the tell of Carrick’s shaking shoulders, I definitely know it’s coming from him. Sienna seems oblivious to the fact. And I know it’s wrong, but I like that I can still make him smile even if it was through a dig at his girlfriend.

  But then, I just feel mean. So, I say, “I’ll have to check your music out. I’m sure it’s great.” When I actually mean, I’d rather poke my eyes out with needles than listen to your music.

  The compliment works, and her face relaxes. “You said you work for Carrick. What exactly is it that you do? Are you, like, his maid or something?”

  Maid? Do we live in the nineteenth century?

  Ben splutters out a laugh from beside me. I have to hold back a shock of laughter myself.

 
; I expect Carrick to laugh, too, but surprisingly, he doesn’t.

  “No, I bloody well am not his maid!” I exclaim, injecting humor into my voice.

  Carrick turns his face in my direction, and he catches my eye. He’s looking at me liked he used to—like I’m his friend, like I matter—and it hurts like a mother because I know he no longer feels that way.

  Ignoring the ache in my chest, I force my eyes back to Sienna. “I’m a mechanic,” I tell her.

  “You’re a mechanic?” She screws her face up with what can only be described as total disgust.

  Seriously, you’d think I’d just told her I was a serial killer. That, or I wipe Carrick’s arse for a living.

  “But isn’t that a man’s job?”

  “Depends on who you’re asking.”

  “Hmm…well, yes, I suppose…looking at you now, I can see that you are well suited to men’s work.” Her eyes give me the up and down. “You have the right build and a very”—she waves a hand at me—“masculine vibe about you.”

  Masculine vibe? The right build? What the fuck? I’m the same size as her!

  Seriously, who is this chick?

  I couldn’t care less if she is in the UK’s biggest pop band. She’s mean. She might be pretty on the outside, but she’s plain ugly on the inside, and I’m getting that from just spending less than ten minutes with her.

  I’ve met mean girls before, but she is a bitch through and through. I have never met someone so confrontational in all my life.

  My body tenses, my hands balling into fists, and I’m just about to open my mouth and let the pop princess know exactly what I think of her when Ben slings his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.

  “Take it easy,” he whispers in my ear.

  I flicker a glance at him, and he gives me a calming smile.

  “She’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah…” I exhale. “You’re right.”

  Loosening his hold but keeping his arm around me, he leans forward and says loudly, “Actually, Sienna, Andi is our best mechanic. She’s better than all of us put together. She’s the most talented mechanic I’ve ever worked with. Honestly, I don’t know what the team would do without her.”

  I know he’s just saying it to be kind and to stick up for me, but irrespective of why, it works because I feel a hundred times better than I did a moment ago. And I kind of love Ben in this moment,

  Grinning up into his face, I say, “Are you drunk? Because it’s not like you to give me a compliment.”

  His eyes smile at me. “I give you compliments all the time. You just never listen.”

  “Aw.” I grin at him, and then I lean in and whisper, “You’re a good friend, Ben.”

  He shrugs, and then he says quietly, “I can’t have our best mechanic getting sacked because she knocked out Carrick’s latest squeeze.”

  Laughing softly, I pat his arm, which is still around me.

  Ben lifts his arm from my shoulders, and I turn to the table to get my drink, but I freeze at the sight of Carrick’s angry eyes on me. His jaw is set so tight that it looks like it might shatter.

  Then, without warning, the anger in his eyes flames into something else entirely, setting my body on fire. I have to press my thighs together to contain the sudden ache, and I can feel my body quickly stirring to life as memories of our one night together flicker through my mind.

  Coming back to my senses, knowing there’s a table full of people here, I break our stare. Then, I catch sight of Sienna’s eyes swinging between Carrick and me, and I know that she saw the look that just transpired between us.

  Her brows pull together, like she’s working something out.

  And then I see it settle on her face. She knows Carrick and I have slept together.

  Fuck.

  Something really uncomfortable stirs in my stomach.

  She twists in her seat to face me. “So, your name is Andi?” she says, her tone biting.

  “Yes…” I answer carefully.

  “Andi…” she says in a bitchy singsong voice. “Andi, who has a man’s job and a man’s name. Maybe you should just go the whole hog and have a sex change, not that there’s much to change!”

  She belts out a laugh like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. She glances around the table, expecting the others to be laughing with her. But what she’s failing to realize is that these are my friends, not hers. And no one is laughing.

  “Sienna,” Carrick snaps out her name in warning.

  “What? It was just a joke! Can’t you people take a joke?” She lets out an awkward laugh.

  God, I’m so fucking done here that it’s not even funny.

  “Sure it was a joke.” Pushing my chair out, I get my jacket off the back and pull it on. “Just like your face. But the thing is, Sienna, yes, I could trade my vagina for a cock, but sadly for you, you can’t fix ugly.” Throwing a quick glance around the table, ignoring Carrick’s eyes and Sienna’s open mouth, I say, “I’ll catch you all tomorrow.” Then, I turn on my heel and start walking away.

  I hear Carrick calling my name, but I just ignore him, moving my legs as fast as they’ll go.

  “Jesus, Andressa. Just wait up, will you?” He finally catches up with me. He tugs on my arm, pulling me to a stop.

  “What?” I shake my arm free of his hand. My skin is left burning where he just touched me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I turn away and start walking again.

  “Jesus, just…wait!”

  Sighing, I turn back, putting my hands on my hips. “What do you want, Carrick?”

  “I just…” His eyes go to the ground. He looks unsure for a moment. Then, he lifts his eyes back to mine, his confidence back. “Where are you going?”

  “To the hotel.”

  Then, wouldn’t you know? Little miss pop princess comes marching up in her pretty heels. “Carrick!” she cracks his name out like a whip. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  He turns his head to her and gives her such a stare that I even shudder. Seriously, his look could take down a bear. I’m not surprised when she shrinks back because I probably would at the level of anger emanating from him.

  “I’m making sure Andressa is okay.” His voice is like granite. “So, go back to the bar, sit the fuck down, and try not to offend any more of my friends before I get back.”

  Friend? Oh, so now I’m his friend.

  “Ugh! Whatever!” She throws up her hands, swivels on her heel, and sashays back in the direction of the bar.

  The moment she’s gone, I turn and start walking.

  Goal—get away from Carrick.

  Plan—catch a cab and go to bed.

  And possibly cry.

  Carrick falls in step beside me.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I flash an angry look his way.

  “Coming with you.”

  “Well, I’m going back to the hotel and then straight to bed, and you’re most definitely not invited.”

  He lets out a throaty chuckle, and I have to fight hard to keep the smile from my lips.

  “Habits” by Tove Lo and Hippie Sabotage starts to hum from the speakers of one of the bars we pass.

  I love this song. The lyrics. Just sometimes…I wish I could numb the pain.

  Out of nowhere, I suddenly feel exhausted and sad. Really sad.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I say in a quiet voice, “Go back to the bar, Carrick. I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “Andressa, I know you think I’m a total bastard, but there’s no way I’m letting you walk around late at night on your own. Anything could happen to you.”

  “Like you’d care.” I regret it the moment I say it.

  He grabs my arm. Pulling me to a stop, he stands in front of me, way too close. I can practically taste his aftershave on my tongue and feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

  His hand is still on my arm, and it’s burning me from the outsid
e in, right down to my core.

  I need him to stop touching me…and never stop touching me.

  I’m so confused, and it hurts like a physical pain.

  “Of course I’d care,” he says low. “You’re—” He cuts off. Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his free hand, he takes a step back.

  He drops his hand from my arm, and I’m more than relieved for the space.

  “You’re my friend, Andressa.” He sounds resigned.

  I just don’t know to what he’s resigned.

  I laugh, and it’s a hollow sound. “We’re hardly friends right now.”

  His face tightens, and I see his jaw start to work angrily.

  Not wanting another fight, I step around him and start walking again.

  A moment later, he’s back beside me, keeping pace, but he says nothing more, and silence ensues.

  “How have you been?” he finally asks in a soft voice.

  I keep my eyes fixed ahead. “Good. You?”

  “Same.”

  We lapse back into that horrible silence. It’s heartbreaking being in such an uncomfortable silence with him. From the moment I met Carrick, finding something to talk about was never an issue for us.

  Just everything else it seems.

  I hear a noise behind us. Glancing over my shoulder, hoping it’s not the pop princess, I see a man. It’s the same man, I now remember, who was lingering outside the bar we were in. I also remember seeing him hovering nearby when Carrick first caught up with me. I just didn’t register it in my anger.

  I only noticed him before because he’s such a big guy, and now, in the darkness of the harbor, he looks even bigger and a little menacing. He’s walking way too close to us for my liking.

  “Carrick…” I hiss. “I know this might sound a little crazy, but I think we’re being followed.” I jerk my head back in the direction of the huge dude.

  Carrick looks back and chuckles. “Don’t worry. He’s my security. Dad assigned me a guard while I’m here. You know, it being Monte Carlo, race crazy, and with me being—”

  “You.” I smile.

  “Yeah.” He laughs again. “And with the press attention being a little more intense because of Sienna—” He cuts off.

  The lightness that I was just feeling is obliterated.

  He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry about the way she spoke to you.”