Revved: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by A. M. Mahler

  My bladder felt like a dam about to burst, but I was too comfortable to upset the balance and get up to pee. One of Simon’s arms was under my head; the other curled around me. Wrapped up in Simon seemed like a good way to spend the day.

  Somewhere in the apartment, a clock ticked. My phone was on the end table charging, so I couldn’t see what time it was. My Fitbit was, of course, at home charging—where it’s been for a few weeks now. Simon had a Fitbit on his wrist, but it was the one resting on my shoulder. I was in an awkward position to read it. I crooked my neck to see the clock on the cable box, but without my glasses, it was just a fuzzy mess. Given the light coming in through the curtains and the volume of the birds singing outside, I thought it might be about six-thirty. Right about the time I normally got up.

  Not being able to resist the call of my bladder any longer, I eased myself up from Simon, grabbed my bag from the side of the couch, and headed to the bathroom. I’d save the showering for a little later but would clean up a bit now and get dressed, brush my teeth. When I opened the door once I was finished, Simon was leaning against the wall in the hallway, adorably rumpled and rubbing his eye with his palm. He looked like he had absolutely no idea what was going on, so I stepped aside for him without a word and headed to the kitchen in search of coffee.

  The shower turned on, and I smiled to myself. Of course, Simon showered first thing in the morning. I was a little sad because I wanted to see the disheveled Simon for a little longer. Coffee was already brewing in the kitchen, so I searched for mugs. One stood out to me in the cabinet. When I took it down, I saw that it looked like an elementary school project with a child’s drawing all over it. The names Simon and Marcus were written on it in a child’s scroll, along with what were probably smiley faces, but with the big ears on them, they looked more like flying monkey heads.

  Setting the mug down gently and wondering who Marcus was, I retrieved a plain black mug. By the time Simon wandered into the galley kitchen in lounge pants and a t-shirt, I had the bagels and cream cheese out with plates and knives.

  “Morning,” he said, walking up to me and pressing a kiss to my forehead. We both froze. That felt so natural after being so intimately entwined last night, but it was also a very relationship-y thing to do, and we weren’t in a relationship. But I got just a small taste of what a relationship with Simon could be like.

  Acting on instinct, I went up on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. His arms circled my waist in response. “Morning,” I said softly and settled in against him. I knew Simon would give good hugs. He pretty much had to, right? His arms provided just the right amount of pressure and security and created a cocoon of warmth. Gently pulling away, I returned to the counter to slice my bagel. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine,” he said. “A little sore, and I’m afraid to take the band aid off and lose all the skin on my head, but fine.” He paused and uncertainty crept into his voice. “Does that mean you’re going to go to work then?”

  Did he not want me here? “Well, I kind of thought that I’d stay here with you to make sure you’re okay today and don’t get any worse. But if I’m going to be in your way, I can go.”

  “No,” he said quickly, stepping forward and taking my hand. “You won’t be in the way. I’d love it if you stayed.”

  “Okay.” I gave his hand a squeeze, and he looked relieved. Quite frankly, so was I. I wasn’t used to putting my faith in people, outside of my family. But as I got to know Simon more, I felt like I could give him a little and see what he did with it.

  Simon pulled away, and I started slicing my bagel. He picked up the Simon and Marcus mug and poured coffee into it. He took it black like I did. Why wasn’t I surprised?

  “Who’s Marcus?”

  “Marcus, Travis, and Gavin are my brother’s sons. They’re pretty much my life. My brother is a cop and does shift work. He’s a single dad. Since I worked at home, I would take them when they got home from school and on the weekends. They slept over all the time. I, um, well, I lived with my mom before moving here, so there were the two of us to ride herd on three crazy, very-energetic boys. I miss them like crazy. I’m actually going to head down there tomorrow after work for the weekend.”

  He looked concerned about revealing that he lived with his mother, but I didn’t care. It was sweet. Some women might see it as a red flag that maybe he had mommy issues or something, but I had an unconventional outlook on close family. Sure, after I got a job out of college, I moved out on my own, but I brought my brother with me.

  “You must miss them.”

  “It’s like the loss of a limb.” He looked down at his mug. “Literally. There was always at least one hanging off me.” Once my bagel was prepared, I stepped to the side so Simon could take care of his. “You don’t talk about your brother much. Are you two close?”

  I paused while raising my mug to my mouth. What an odd question. He just saw us together the other night.

  “Yes, very.” I said.

  “Do you miss him? Does he live far?”

  It occurred to me now as I quickly went over our past conversations that I never actually told him who my brother was. I never actually said his name. I guess I just assumed that whoever had introduced them had mentioned it. But why would they? “Simon, you know my brother.”

  “I do?” He frowned as he slathered his bagel with about half an inch of butter. That is something we don’t agree on. Bagels get cream cheese. Butter is too greasy.

  “Jesse is my brother.”

  I startled when he suddenly dropped his bagel and knife onto the plate and spun around. “What did you say?”

  “Jesse, the mechanic, the guy that was in my office that night when you stopped by. He’s my brother.” Simon’s eyes widened, and I continued. “When I got this job, I worked out a deal for him, too. Growing up, we only had each other, and we’re still very close. He’s got an engineering degree, as well, and he often helps me work out problem areas. But he’s happiest working on the cars and with the camaraderie with the other guys. Unlike me, he’s extroverted. I’d rather be holed up in my office by myself.”

  Simon leaned back against the counter and grasped the edge with his hands. A brilliant smile lit up his face, and I really hoped I got to see more of him looking that happy. “So, is there any other guy in the picture?” Were we really having this conversation?

  I shook my head slowly. “Any girls back home I should know about?”

  “Just my mom.”

  I nodded and lifted my mug to my lips. Simon turned back to his bagel. I guess we just had the relationship discussion. What happened next? Were we seeing each other? We just admitted that there was no one of interest in either of our lives. So, I guessed we’d see where this went. We stepped around each other as we prepared our own breakfast—reaching around each other and keeping an odd distance between us. For two people that just admitted we were romantically interested in each other, we were suddenly awkward and skittish.

  Once our breakfast was ready, we headed back to the living room and sat down on the couch, side-by-side, socked feet propped up in front of us.

  “So, you don’t have a desk or a table,” I noted, taking a bite into my bagel. “How are you going to work from home?”

  “I didn’t think of that.” He looked around the room, as if noticing for the first time he indeed had neither desk nor table. “Is that going to be a problem for you? Do you have one at your place? Maybe we can head over there.”

  I scanned the current state of my apartment in my head. There was a basket of laundry on my unmade bed that I never folded or put away. I did recently clean the bathroom ... right? I had a desk and a table, and there was space to work on both of them. “We can do that if you want. We’ll just bring the lunch over there. I can drive you back later.”

  “I can drive myself over.” Simon said. “You don’t have to go back out. I really do feel fine. I think the doctor was just acting out of an abundance of caution. I didn’t say anything
yesterday because once you volunteered to stay with me, I really wanted you to stay over.”

  Well, at least he was honest, and I did suspect as much last night. After the initial injury and confusion, which I thought was mostly over seeing my breasts, he really did seem fine. At least we were both on the same page now about wanting to hang out. That was a step further than we were yesterday. And I found myself feeling a little less guilty about missing the first overnight checkup.

  I probably should have felt more guilt about not going into the office when Simon was perfectly fine to work, but, well, Ryan did say I needed to work less and get out of the office more. I’d still be working, but I’d be out of the office. Sixty percent of my job I could do from anywhere; the other forty percent was spent under a car. Until Colton test-drove the prototype and I knew whether he wanted any changes, there wasn’t much for me to do anyway.

  Which meant I could work on my secret project. One I hadn’t told Ryan about yet. It was for him, but since I didn’t know how he would react, I was keeping it to myself. There were a few ideas I had that could take WRR to the world stage. I’m loyal to Willis-Reilly, but I still had my own dreams and goals. Since I had no life and I was paid well, I had a pretty sizable nest egg. I could fund at least one of the projects on my own, but I was banking on getting Ryan excited. Racing was in his blood, and speed is speed, right? Only Jesse knew what I’d been working on because he had been with me every step of the way. I felt comfortable that I could work on that design with Simon around. I kind of liked the idea of sort of sharing it with him. Really, I just liked the idea of him.

  Simon

  S

  ilently, I crept into the mudroom of my mother’s house. It was strange that I couldn’t say my house anymore. I still considered this home. Would that always be the case, or would I eventually just think of this as my mother’s house? They say home is where the heart is, but my heart was now torn between two places.

  I was quiet as I could be so as not to wake anyone. I knew my brother and the boys were here because Dev’s car was in the driveway. I toed off my shoes at the door to make as little noise as possible as I walked through the living room. Right before I turned the corner into the kitchen, I heard the whispers. I got up really early this morning to make it here in time for breakfast and surprise everyone by sitting in the kitchen when they got up, but it seemed certain monsters were already up and plotting something.

  Careful not to make any noise, I snuck right up to the archway leading to the kitchen and peeked in. The boys had their faces stuck in the refrigerator and were debating peanut butter and jelly for breakfast or ice cream. They couldn’t see me where I was, but I could see three little pairs of socked feet—two with holes in the toes.

  Slowly and quietly, I inched to the side of the refrigerator. They were going to flip their shit when they closed the door. They were too busy with their breakfast mission to notice anything nefarious afoot. Mom, Dev, and I were constantly lecturing them about being aware of their surroundings, but being in their grandmother’s house, it didn’t occur to them that it could ever be unsafe—and nor should it. They should expect that the adults in their lives would keep them safe—and I always would.

  Except now, I was going to scare the ever-loving shit out of them.

  Slowly, their feet started backing up, and I leaned against the refrigerator, crossing my arms. Just as they slammed the door shut, I said as casually as I could, “Hey, boys.”

  It was perfect, a vision of art. Their faces drained of all color, they jumped six inches off the floor, screaming bloody fucking murder. I raised my arms like a monster and roared at them. Just as they started cackling when they realized it was me, there was a thundering on the stairs. My brother hauled ass into the kitchen with his gun drawn. I didn’t notice it was him at first. My brain only registered the gun. My stomach fell to my feet, and my chest started to feel like a wild horse was running around in it. I turned and tackled the three boys to the floor, covering them with my body.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Simon!” Devon yelled. The boys were laughing like a cackle of hyenas, and my elbow hurt like hell from where I banged it on the counter on the way down. I rolled off the boys to see Devon setting his service revolver on top of the refrigerator out of the boys’ reach. They knew not to touch it, but Devon took no chances. He’d bring it back upstairs to lock up in a few minutes. He wiped a hand down his face as he struggled to calm down.

  “Note to self,” I said from my position laying on my back and sprawled out on the kitchen floor as the boys started to jump all over me. “Give cop brother a heads up before sneaking into the house to terrorize his children.”

  “Yeah.” Devon glared at me. “I nearly blew your fucking head off.”

  “Devon, stop swearing.” My mother entered the kitchen in her robe, calm as you please, and slapped my brother upside the head as she passed. If she was at all frightened by the commotion, there was no sign of it now. But she probably wasn’t. My mother was made of steel.

  She propped her hands on her hips and gave me the look of death.

  “Well, boys, since Uncle Simon is here, I think he should make us all his French toast for breakfast. What do you think?”

  The boys cheered, pushed off me, and jumped around the kitchen. I stood up after them and kissed my mother on the cheek. Devon smacked me on the head as he walked to the coffee maker, and Gavin went shooting out of the room.

  “Hey!” My mother called after him. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to change my underwear!” Gavin shouted back.

  My heart warmed knowing I got at least one of them to pee their pants.

  My mother turned back to me. “Looks like Uncle Simon is also on laundry detail today.”

  AFTER THE BOYS FINISHED breakfast and settled down in the living room for their morning of cartoons or videogames, Devon, Mom, and I sat around the table amongst all the dirty dishes and relaxed with our second cups of coffee. I was likely also on dish duty. I didn’t mind. Any chores thrown at me were worth it for the show the boys put on earlier.

  “So.” My mother looked at me, and I prepared myself for the inquisition. “First of all, what did you do to your head?”

  “I fell and cracked it on a door jamb on my way down. Doctor thinks I gave myself a mild concussion.” All of that was the God’s honest truth, but my brother, of course, sensed there was more to the story and pressed.

  “That doesn’t sound like you,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table and raising his mug. “You may be socially awkward upon occasion, but you’ve never been physically awkward.”

  I waited until just before he took a sip to say, “That was before I unexpectedly got to see Maggie Dalton’s breasts,” and I watched him sputter and choke. Ha!

  My mother slammed her hand on his back before turning to me and locking her eyes with mine. “Normally, I’d give you hell for speaking so crassly at the table, but I’m just overjoyed to find out you’ve had any kind of encounter with a woman. Did she intend to show you her breasts?” Only now did I realize that breasts really was a word I didn’t ever want to hear coming out of my mother’s mouth. We were close, but I didn’t discuss my sex life with her.

  “Not really,” I confessed. “She was changing in the corner of her office, but she was trying to do it quickly because the door was open. I was coming to see her.”

  Devon set his mug down with an annoyed glare in my direction. He knew I timed my words that way on purpose to trip him up. I had a feeling I’d be getting a beat down from him at some point this weekend for all my shenanigans, but really, that’s what brothers do. We may have been adults now, but that didn’t mean we grew up. He did the same kind of thing to me. It was just how we rolled.

  “So, she’s someone you work with?” my mother asked.

  “She’s the lead engineer, and she’s brilliant.” I told them all about when we met, how I felt when I first saw her, and how I’ve felt since then. They listened quietly
for fifteen minutes as I went on and on about Maggie, her brilliance, her beauty, her sense of humor, her kindness, her occasional awkwardness. They said nothing. I finally stopped speaking when I realized just how long I rambled for.

  “Well, it certainly sounds like Grayson Falls is working out for you,” my mother said with a knowing smile.

  “It’s okay,” I said, looking down at my mug. “I miss the boys like crazy.”

  “They miss you, too,” my mom said. The familiar tug of guilt settled in my chest, making me wonder for the hundredth time if I made the right decision. I liked Maggie, a hell of a lot more than I anticipated on such a short acquaintance, but if my family needed me ... well, I’m not sure what decision I would make if my family needed me long-term. Of course, if it was an emergency, I’d be there immediately. But as far as moving back to ease the burden, I just wasn’t sure anymore.

  “I’m sorry this is the first time I’ve come home.”

  “The fuck?” Devon said. The annoyance in his voice caused me to look up at him in surprise. “Simon, you’ve been gone three weeks. The whole point of moving away is the new experience. You should be settling in and exploring. You almost sound like you’re trying to apologize for finding positive things about it there. Yeah, the boys miss you. We all miss you. But nobody expected you to live here forever. I told you this before. We’ll come to see you, too.”

  “I don’t want that to be a burden on you.”

  Devon looked stupefied. “Going to see my brother isn’t a burden. The boys haven’t shut up since you left about going up to see you. I have a weekend off in a few weeks, and I was going to see about coming to visit you then. I need to get out of here sometimes, too. Mom would probably love a weekend of silence. And I want to meet this paragon of wonderfulness you’ve just described before you inevitably scare her away.”