“Shelby.” God, his quiet, powerful voice never loses effect on me. I shiver and stop, but can’t turn around. “Look at me.”
Unable to resist, I peek over my shoulder and blink into the sunlight that streams around him. When my eyes adjust, I see him, shirtless and commanding at the top of the stairs, waiting for me.
“Hi,” I say lamely. I duck my head and grip the handrail like it will save me if the world continues to tilt on its axis and spin me around like dandelion fluff on the wind.
“What are you doing here?”
I sigh and drop my hand off the rail slowly, testing out my gravity now that I’m in his orbit again. I feel the stairs shake as he descends toward me, and I keep my eyes focused on the step below me until I feel him right behind me. My skin crawls with electricity and my awareness of everything else around me fades until he is all I feel. Smell. Think about.
“I’m sorry.” Apologies have never been my forte, but this one feels particularly difficult. Two words can never make up for all the wrong I’ve done, but I don’t have the slightest idea if he wants to hear any more.
I feel him shift behind me, his fingers lighting up my bare skin where he nearly touches my arms, but holds back. I shiver anyway, chill bumps running over my entire body.
“So responsive. Always.” His voice is low and quiet, not to be mistaken for soft or silky, as it vibrates with a deep timbre that excites and frightens me. “Now look at me.”
I inhale deeply, pull my head up high, and turn around to meet him. I lose my breath in an instant from the hot look he’s giving me, and all rational thought about continuing my apology drifts along with it. He steps down two steps until he’s standing below me and we are eye level. I scan his features, staring longingly at his full lips, tracing the contours of his cheekbones, and finally I make it to his gorgeous blue eyes that suck me in and demolish me completely.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat softly, unsure what else I can say.
“Come upstairs.” He brushes by me, his fingers trailing along my hand in a way that makes me wonder if it was intentional or an accident.
I follow him back up the stairs and through the door he holds open to his apartment. I stand awkwardly in the cool interior and spin around when the door closes. My eyes dart to his big hand as he locks it and then up to his face that is set with an inscrutable look. I wish he were easier to read and I could figure out if he wants to forgive me or not. I guess getting locked in his apartment means he’s at least up for hearing what I have to say. I’d hit my knees and beg for his forgiveness if I were a different person. Instead, I straighten my spine and swallow down the lump in my throat as I meet his deep blue gaze that is tumbling with thoughts I can’t read. I drag in a shaky breath, hold it for a moment and blow it out with my hesitance. I need to get this out.
“You were right, all along. I was wrong to demand only a sexual relationship with you when I wanted so much more. I let you in but refused to acknowledge I felt the same way. And then I ruined everything once I decided it was worth it. I am so sorry. I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”
“That’s it? You’re just back here to apologize? What, you want to make your conscious feel a little lighter by getting my forgiveness so you can leave again? This is still all about you.” He crosses his thick arms over his chest and stares me down, demanding and intense.
My jaw drops open and I shake my head wildly, trying desperately to find a way to explain that this isn’t about me at all. I freeze. Maybe it is. I wanted to feel better knowing he knew I was sorry for what had happened. Again I’ve had selfish motivations.
“You’re right, again,” I grit out, the words like sandpaper across my tongue. “I do want to feel better and clear my conscious.”
He tilts his head and nods minutely, as if confirming his own thoughts.
“But more than that, I wanted this to be about you. About us. If you still want me.” I keep my eyes on his, fighting every instinct to look away from his judging, cold stare. I’m surprised as he steps forward, invading my space and bringing his face within inches of mine.
“Can’t get enough of me, baby?” He drops his arms, his hand grabbing his crotch. “If you’re just looking for a dick to ride, you can get the fuck out,” he says, pointing from me to the door empathetically. “I don’t want to be used by a superficial Barbie who can’t make up her own damn mind.”
I cringe at the flat way he says it, getting mad as hell that he won’t take my apology seriously. But who am I kidding to have expected anything else. I brought this on myself.
I slap his finger out of my face and grab his chin, pulling him down to my mouth. I kiss him with everything I have, holding the back of his head as he stiffens up. He finally relents, letting my tongue into his mouth. I take this kiss from him, not allowing him to back off, even if it feels one-sided at first. But his body responds, even if his heart doesn’t want to. His arms wrap around me tentatively and I kiss him harder, moaning into his mouth as he pulls me into his hard body. He groans, sliding his fingers up my back and into my hair. He finally pulls me away from his mouth by the hair, leaving us both panting. I step back slightly as his hands slacken and slide through my hair.
“I made my choice. I want you. All of you. Give me your best and your worst. I’ll take it, because it’s you. I’m in love with everything that makes you you. The fantastic and the terrible, I love it all. I love you,” I say, my voice raw and throaty and a little tremulous as I lay my feelings bare to him.
I knew I was falling for Griffin weeks ago. I didn’t want to admit it to myself then, and it feels almost traitorous to admit it out loud now. But I am done fighting these feelings, and if I am truly going to go after the things I want that will make me happy, I need him to know how I feel.
“Right, and you’ll be off chasing another driver and another team next week. Tell the next guy you love him, see if that works on someone else.”
“You stupid asshole.”
I glare at Griffin, working through the anger he brings out in me. This is his way of protecting himself from more hurt and from me. I think I finally have him figured out and I’m prepared to use this knowledge to my advantage. He doesn’t want to make himself vulnerable to another person who will leave him. I don’t plan on making that mistake twice.
“I don’t want anyone else. It’s only you.” I sigh and step around him toward the door. I look back at him as I unlock it and leave my hand on the doorknob. “You know where I live if you decide to believe me. I’m back with S&M. I’m not leaving. You’re going to have to deal with me being here, loving you. Now get used to it, dipshit, because I made up my mind and I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re it for me.” I pull the door open and slip back into the Southern California sunshine, my nerves a jittery mess, but my heart the lightest it’s been in days.
Griffin’s face was priceless. He was shocked into silence and for once he wore an expression that didn’t scare me. It actually made me want to laugh because of how incredulous he looked.
Chapter Thirty-One
Griffin has no fucking clue what to do with me. He is trying desperately to keep me at arm’s length, but I am sticking to him like a spider monkey. He maintains his general grumpy air when he sees me leaning against his car every morning as I wait for him to head to the shop. I secretly delight when he glares at me as I wish him a good morning and call him my love before I sneak in a quick kiss on the cheek or a stealthy hug before he can shake me.
At S&M he ducks his head every time I call him boyfriend in front of the team. I’ve lightened the atmosphere at the shop with my over the top antics trying to win back his favor. Paul just shakes his head and pats me on the back as Griffin does his best to avoid and ignore me.
“You really think this will work?” Ryan asks as we pack up the trucks while getting things ready for Laguna Seca on Thursday morning.
“He’s never experienced anything like this. I’m carpet bombing him with love and affection, eve
n when he doesn’t want it. If this isn’t proving that I want him, and want everyone to know, I don’t know what will.”
“You’re braver than I thought. Good luck to you. And thanks for giving us all something to laugh about. It’s pretty funny to watch Griff duck around corners and stop short in doorways whenever he sees you.”
“Let’s hope he comes around sooner rather than later. I would much prefer him to return the sentiments I’m blasting him with than to keep avoiding me. I’m not giving up, though. I am going after the things that matter. He matters to me and needs that reinforced.”
The most relief I find from Griffin avoiding me is when Trista and Yellow Wheel send over a highlight video to tease the tandem run the guys filmed on Sunday. It’s freaking fantastic and gets the entire team crammed into the office to watch the video when I call for them.
“That’s fucking sick,” Ezra says, throwing his arm around Griffin’s shoulders when the video ends.
“Can you believe they were able to get drones for those overhead shots?” Cole adds in.
“Thanks for setting this up,” Ryan says, pulling me into a crushing hug. “And thanks for coming back,” he whispers into my ear.
“It would have been so rad to have Shelby and the Black Sheep making it a triple. Even just the two of us, that was easily one of the coolest things I have done,” Wyatt says, elbowing my side when Ryan releases me.
“I wish I could have been there,” I say quietly. It sucked missing out on the shoot I had created.
Paul looks over at me with a mixed bag of sadness and gratitude in his expression. “We’ll have to organize another shoot in the future. Yellow Wheel was great to work with and I would absolutely hire them again for other projects. Shelby, you are awesome to have put that together for us. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you to be there on Sunday, but I’m glad you’re back now.”
“That’s a shot from right before the rod blew,” Griffin says angrily, rewinding the video and playing from the specific clip that preceded the Supra breaking down. “I still can’t fucking believe we blew a 2JZ motor. They’re indestructible.”
“Nothing is indestructible. But we’re gonna make it even better now,” Paul says, shutting the laptop and clapping Griffin on the back before he ushers us out of the office to finish our race preparations.
***
The trip to Laguna Seca is nothing short of a clusterfuck. Wyatt has been distant, which makes me think that regardless of what he’s said about being supportive of Griffin and me, he’s having trouble with it. The cars keep having small issues that we have to scramble to fix on the fly, and Griffin is still refusing to accept that my feelings are real and not some act I’m putting on for him. There is only so far he can run during a competition, though.
“Hey, superstar, I missed you.” I wrap my arms around Griffin’s torso and squeeze, surprising him when he steps out of his car at our pit after his qualifying rounds. I bury my face into his neck and inhale deeply, pulling the scent of him mixed with rubber and smoke into my lungs until I’m lightheaded.
“Just stop it, you’re being ridiculous.” His words are full of exasperation as he tries to step out of my grasp, his hands gripping my hips to push me away.
“No.” There’s more venom in my answer than I meant as I drop my arms but stay planted in front of him. I’m doing my best, but it’s hard to stick to your guns when you keep getting shot down and told to stop. Although, I’m getting better at ignoring the very real annoyance in his voice.
“This stupid act isn’t going to work with me, so you might as well quit now.” His hands grip me tighter, betraying his words and giving me more hope than I should have.
“I’ve already told you, this isn’t an act.” I kiss his cheek quickly and step away, giving him space. “I love when you get all grabby and tell me to go away. You’re such a conundrum. I think Cole wanted to go over your rounds anyway, so I guess I can spare you.”
I smile and walk back to our booth. I hear him sigh as I go, knowing he’s shaking his head at me. Again. I glance over my shoulder and lift my skirt over my ass to flash him quickly when I see he’s still watching. That at least gains a crooked smile, which is success in my book.
I man our booth the rest of the day, talking to fans and connecting with other shops and vendors. Our last competition is a week away, making time of the essence for ensuring we have enough support and money flowing in to get the team through the next season. It’s so cool to see Wyatt and Griffin wearing their Mas Boost fire suits and helmets, their cars proudly displaying our hard earned sponsors with custom wraps and decals. We can always use more. I have renewed my vigor in capturing attention and finding a way to keep S&M going, talking up different vendors and exchanging information I will follow up on when we get back to Newport Beach. The videos I’ve posted today with the event hashtags are killing it on our social media pages. I had to politely decline comments on the TW Motorsports debacle enough that I finally made a video apologizing for the miscommunication and straightened out my status as a part of Smoke and Mirrors, for good. I hope.
I’m deep in thought wondering about the future of the team when Terrance Wheeler himself sidles up and catches my attention. My heart thuds violently against my rib cage, the threat of confrontation causing anxiety to rise up within me. I can’t run away to avoid him, and really, what good would that do? Instead, I try to find confidence in my decision to stay with S&M and remember that I have taken control of my life and I am going after what matters most to me. Just thinking about my S&M family, and Griffin, helps reinforce my resolve.
“Hi, Terrance, how’s it going?” I ask, casually crossing my arms across my bared stomach as I straighten up to my full stripper heel enhanced height.
“It would be better if you were standing with TW Motorsports, that’s for sure,” he says, his smile sickeningly sweet.
Oh, jeez. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to hash this out, but it seems like I need to be definitive and very clear about my decision so he doesn’t get any ideas that I will change my mind.
“Look, I really appreciate your offer to join the team, but it’s just not the best fit for me. Smoke and Mirrors is my home. This is where I belong and where I’m going to stay. So thanks for the offer and for helping me see that.”
His mouth pinches into a frown before he can conceal his displeasure at my dismissal. “You don’t have to explain or get defensive, girl. I’m just making a comment. God, women,” he adds under his breath. He looks at his watch, as if my time isn’t important to him, but continues to stand in my booth space, underhandedly insulting me.
I bristle and bite my tongue, knowing that getting into an argument with him would do nothing to help the situation. I search for a pleasant topic as quickly as I can. “I heard Mason qualified for top sixteen. You must be so happy that he’s doing really well. The FR-S is killing it. Good luck with the rest of the races.” I smile, genuinely happy for Mason and pat myself on the back for finding a nice, neutral topic.
“That could be you, in a few years. All you need is the support of a winning team behind you, getting you through the Pro-Am circuit and qualifying for the ADL. It’s not too late to change your mind. We have a place for you, as a driver. S&M can’t do that for you, or else you would be driving already.” He strokes his goatee and smiles in a way that makes me think he’s enjoying pushing my buttons.
Dammit. I tried to keep things pleasant, but he’s not taking the hint. “I already went over this pretty clearly in my email. There is nothing you can say that will convince me to join your team. Short of S&M throwing me out as I kick and scream, I’m not leaving. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t able to support a third driver, or want me to stay in this position, I like it here and I’m staying. If I want to drive, I’ll find a way on my own.” And that’s the end of that.
“Stubbornness will get you nowhere, Shelby. You know where to find a winning team when it gets old being
the mediocre tits and ass drawing in attention for other drivers and never knowing what it would be like to be on the other side.” Terrance gestures to the booth and our trucks and trailers behind me. “This team is volatile, immature, and plagued by mechanical issues. There’s no way it can make it in the American Drift League outside of the California Circuit. If you think they’re going to even have a chance at competing nationally with one main sponsor, you are delusional. Just remember I offered you a way out while things were still good. I won’t be so accommodating later when this all falls apart.” Terrance takes a step back with a smug expression, having said his piece.
Shit-talking motherfucker. “God, you can just kiss my ass.” I roll my eyes and place my hands on my hips, staring down at little, hairy Terrance Wheeler with the big mouth and bad reputation. “I’ve made my choice. I’d rather be a loser than drive for you.”
I poke at Terrance’s chest and feel myself getting heated with animation and animosity. I have to take a physical step back or risk punching him when he sneers at me.
“You’re pissed off because you can’t convince me to leave and your scare tactics prove what a dirty player you are. I want nothing to do with a team that has a person like you running it. I love the S&M team and everyone on it. I’m happy here and that’s what matters. We are going to be just fine in the ADL because we’re fighters, so no matter the outcome of a race or a circuit, this team will be successful. Why don’t you head back to your team now and talk shit over there?”
I dismiss Terrance with a flick of my wrist in the most disinterested way I can muster. I may be seething inside that he would have the audacity to smack talk about my team, at our booth, but I’m truly done with him. He wants a reaction and to plant all sorts of seeds of discord and give me something to think about when things aren’t so great. But he can go to hell for all I care.
Drift Heat Page 25
