by Chelle Bliss
I stand completely still as I stare at my mother and try to figure out if she’s pissed at me or not. Knowing her, she’s going to have a lot to say, and some of it won’t be pretty. That’s the thing about her. She’s honest and blunt but never cruel. She’s never been one to hold her tongue, especially when it involves my brother or me.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ridley.” I can hear the tension in his voice.
I glance in his direction as he walks away, and the pained smile on his face as his eyes meet mine tells me he knows we’re in for a world of hurt. When I tear my gaze away from his, I find my mother staring straight at me without a smile or any hint of amusement.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” She sets her champagne glass on one of the stairs and steps closer.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I play dumb because I’m not ready to admit a damn thing. Not yet at least.
“You were upstairs for far too long, and your hair…” She reaches out, brushing a few of the strands over my shoulder that fell free during our kiss. “You’re playing with fire, Faith.”
“Mamma.” I squeeze my eyes shut, dropping my head forward, and know when to wave the white flag. “I’m sorry. I swear nothing happened up there.”
She places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Don’t be sorry.”
I lift my head, shocked by her words.
“But you know he works for us, and your brother is having a hard time with this. What would your father think if he knew about you two?” She raises an eyebrow.
“You can’t tell them.” I grab her arm and start to beg. “Please, Mamma. It won’t happen again. We only kissed.”
Technically I wasn’t lying to her. Just now, we did only kiss. It would’ve led to a lot more if the lady hadn’t interrupted us, though.
“He’s only been here a few days, Faith. I’d hate for you to have your heart broken.”
“I won’t get hurt. We were just talking, and things got out of control for a second. Whatever happened is over. It was a momentary lapse in judgment and won’t happen again.”
“Do you like him?”
“Yes. I don’t know how.” I grit my teeth and clench my hands at my side, because admitting the truth for the first time is harder than I ever imagined. “We just met, but I like him too much.”
“Don’t string him along unless you’re willing to love a man like that. From everything your daddy has told me about Brooks, they sound like two peas in a pod. Men like them love fierce and hard, just like they drive, baby. You’re playing with fire if you make him fall in love with you and try and walk away. I tried it with your daddy, and I ended up pregnant.”
My mouth falls open and I gawk at her. “I thought…wait.”
My mind’s reeling, and I do some quick calculations in my head. “I thought you were married and got pregnant on your honeymoon?”
She tips her head back and laughs. “We talked about marriage, but I wasn’t ready to fully commit to your father. He was a race car driver with big dreams, and I didn’t want to hold him back. He wasn’t stupid. He knew well enough that if he knocked me up, I’d have to marry him.” She smiles so big. “Back then unwed mothers were not looked upon so kindly here in Buxton. I should’ve been mad, but I couldn’t be. I could’ve never loved another man the way I loved your daddy.”
“Wow,” I say, too shocked to say anything else.
“All men are fragile creatures, even your daddy and especially young ones like Brooks.”
“It’s been forty-eight hours. We’re not in love.”
“Keep lyin’ to yourself. I loved your father from the moment I laid eyes on him.”
“I think you’re wrong, Mamma. Brooks doesn’t care about me.”
“I saw the way he was looking at you as you came down the stairs.”
I want to tell her we called everything off and decided it was best if we didn’t put ourselves in any situation that may lead to us falling into bed together, but I couldn’t.
“Daddy’s coming.”
“We’ll talk about this later. For now, spend time with our guests and not so much time upstairs.”
My dad joins us, wrapping his arms around my mother’s middle and burying his face in her hair. “My two favorite girls in the world. People are asking where you ran off to.”
She places her hand over his and tilts her head toward his. “Faith was just helping me with something, sweetheart.”
“Are you done?” His eyes meet mine. “Faith, is everything okay? You look a little disheveled?”
My mother answers before I have a chance to open my mouth. “Yes. Don’t worry, Beau, everything’s fine.”
“Um,” I mumble and run my hands down the sides of my dress. “My truck broke down on the back road, so I was later than I planned. I had to walk the rest of the way here.”
“Well, shit, baby girl. Why did you not call me?”
“I forgot my phone. I’m sorry I missed the auction, Daddy.”
“It’s okay. We raised a ton of money thanks to your brilliant idea.” He’s practically beaming when he tells me the news.
I smile even though the entire thing has backfired in my face. “That’s great, Daddy.”
All I can think about is Ms. Constance and her greedy little fingers all over Brooks because of my lame idea. Every dime goes toward a great cause, but I’m not sure I can stomach knowing she’ll do everything in her power to sleep with Brooks. I may not be able to have him again, but that doesn’t mean I want someone else to have him either.
Chapter Eight
Brooks
Ms. Constance sits across from me at Bella Donna, the best Italian restaurant in Buxton, wearing a sleek black cocktail dress with so many diamonds around her neck that no one’s looking at her cleavage. She’s sipping a glass of the most expensive champagne on the menu and, surprisingly, being a perfect lady. She barely even flirts with me. She insists we only have the best of everything, and I wasn’t about to argue since she is picking up the tab.
“Do you ever get lonely?” She holds the champagne flute against her lips and stares at me over the rim. “You know, being on the road as much as you are?”
“Not really.” At least I didn’t think of myself as lonely. Sure, there were times when I wanted someone in my life to share my victories with at the end of a hard-fought weekend. But I’d never had that, not even as a kid, so I wasn’t sure how not being by myself even felt.
That is…until Faith. We’ve successfully kept our distance after work hours, only interacting when completely necessary for the last few days. I leaned on the guys in the garage more, picking their brains and asking for their guidance when I needed help. It has been the slowest few days of my life.
Ms. Constance sets her drink on the table and touches the diamond necklace draped around her neck. “I do.” She strokes the diamonds slowly and stares at the bubbles rising in her glass. “I was married once. Did you know that?”
I shake my head, settling back in my chair. “No, ma’am.”
“I loved my husband.” She giggles for a moment and covers her mouth with the back of her hand. “Husbands,” she corrects herself. “Each one was very different. My first husband, Daniel, he was the best man I’d ever meet.”
I toy with the napkin next to my plate but keep my eyes on her. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
She waves her hand and smiles softly. “No. I love talking about him, about us. We were only married a few years before he passed.”
“I’m so sorry.” For a moment, my heart aches for her. The loss she must’ve felt losing someone so soon after promising each other forever had to be unbearable.
“The hurt is still deep even after all these years.”
I nod as I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. For all her flaws, sleeping with Mr. Peabody and her gossiping nature, I could see the woman dying to be loved underneath. “I’m sure it is.”
“They say that eventually the sadness fades, but it�
�s not true.” She lifts her glass and takes a sip, staring into the distance.
“I can only imagine.”
“I hope you never have to experience that kind of loss.”
The Constance across the table is an entirely different version of the woman I met at the charity auction. There’s no innuendo or flirtation spilling from her lips. “I’m sorry I’m not acting like myself. This day is always hard for me. He’s been gone thirty years, but it never gets any easier.”
“We didn’t have to go out tonight. We could’ve rescheduled.”
She cracks a smile and shakes her head. “I needed to go out tonight more than ever. I wanted to sit across from a handsome man with my favorite necklace and just pretend for a little while. Does that make sense?”
“No. No. It makes perfect sense, Ms. Constance.”
“I couldn’t bear to sit at home alone tonight like I’ve done every year for the last three decades.” She leans back in her chair as the waiter approaches with our dessert, but she waves him away. “Enough about me. Do you have a special lady in your life?”
“No one.” I’m being truthful. Whatever small thing Faith and I had going is off, dead and buried. Not forgotten, though. I could never wipe the memories of how she felt, tasted, and smelled from my mind.
“A good-looking boy like you has to have women all over the country.”
I laugh at how completely wrong she is, but I can see how she’d think that. Especially since she knows Roscoe as well as she does. I’m not a playboy. I don’t bang anything with two legs just because I need sex. “I try to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible. My only focus right now is the long racing season ahead and nothing more.”
“Smart kid.” She pushes her empty champagne flute to the middle of the table. “Sometimes it’s better to not fall in love. Less heartbreak that way. It’s better to bury yourself in something you can control.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh.
“The pro circuit is the real deal. You’ve made it to the big leagues, and I’m sure you’ll have to beat the ladies off with a stick once they get a look at you.”
I hadn’t thought about the groupies and how things could quickly spiral out of control once the season started rolling. I was already seeing women camped out, dressed in Roscoe Ridley gear and following him around town like lost puppies. I wouldn’t even know how to handle their nonstop flirtations, but Roscoe relishes that shit. He eats up every bit of it and takes what he wants without remorse. But I don’t want just any girl. I only have eyes for Faith Ridley.
When we walk outside, Constance stops near the valet stand and hands the gentleman her ticket. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Brooks, and for being a gentleman.” She turns to me, and I brace myself for a kiss or at least an unwelcomed ass grab, but she does neither. She holds out her hand, much like she did when we met in the foyer for the first time.
I sweep her hand up to my lips and kiss her softly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “Thanks for everything, Ms. Constance. Not just the donation to the Children’s Hospital but for an enjoyable evening and good company too.”
“Do me a favor, kid. Don’t tell anyone about tonight or say nice things. I know I have a reputation in town, and I’d hate to ruin their image of me.”
I laugh as I help her into her car.
FAITH
I’ve been lying in bed, staring at the same spot on my ceiling for an hour. I can’t stop thinking about Brooks’s date with Ms. Constance. I’m torturing myself over a man I’m not even dating. I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. With Marcus, I never thought about where he was or what he was doing, and he ended up right between the legs of my sorority sister.
I picture Constance touching Brooks, putting her hands on him—and more—so many times, he finally caves. I squeeze my eyes shut, force back the acid crawling up my throat, and try to wipe the disgusting image from my head.
I groan as soon as I start thinking about them again. Somehow, I’ve become that girl. The needy one sitting by her phone, waiting for a guy to call even though he won’t. Why would he? I’m the one who called the whole thing off and made sure to put as much distance as possible between us. I promised myself I wouldn’t dwell on what they could be doing, but no matter what I do, I can’t get them off my mind.
I jump straight up when my phone buzzes at my side. I scramble to find the damn thing buried under a pile of blankets. “Shit,” I hiss, throwing everything off the bed, and slide onto the floor when the phone thumps against the hardwood. I stare at the phone, reading each word from Brooks slowly.
My obligation you so kindly put on my shoulders without my knowledge or approval is complete.
Did she touch you?
I hit send and immediately wish I could delete the message. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to really ask him that. It’s been on my mind all night, but I had no right to pry.
You really wanna know?
I gawk at the screen as my stomach turns. Shit. She touched him. He doesn’t even need to answer because I know what kind of woman she is, and Brooks…well, he’s a man.
OMG. You kissed her!
* * *
No. Don’t tell me. It’s none of my business.
I smack my head against the side of the mattress over and over again as he types his reply. I’m expecting a long-winded response because he’s taking forever, but all I get back is…
Jealous?
“Asshole!” I yell at the screen like he can somehow hear me. I rest my arms on my knees, drop my head forward, and take a deep breath. He’s not yours.
I’m being irrational. We’re nothing to each other. We shared a few kisses and had sex a couple times, but people do that and move on without a problem, right? I’m lying to myself, and I know it. I’m not the type of girl to have a physical relationship without my feelings getting involved. Brooks isn’t any different. It may have been short-lived, but it was hot and consuming.
Did you really kiss her?
Are you going to admit you’re jealous?
The man is impossible. But the problem is, he’s right. I am a little jealous Constance was able to be seen in public with him while I sat at home alone. Even when Brooks and I were together, everything we did was in private. I’ll never admit my jealousy, though, especially when it comes to Constance.
I’m just concerned. I’ve known Constance my entire life.
She’s really not that bad. She’s actually a nice woman when you get to know her.
My mouth falls open, and my fingers hover over the keys as I read his message again, figuring I hadn’t read them right the first time. She’s not that bad? I don’t even know how that’s possible with the shit she’s pulled over the years. The woman is as rotten as they come.
Now admit it… You’re a little jealous.
Of Constance? Never.
Faith.
Brooks.
I thought about us tonight.
The butterflies in my stomach flutter just like they did the first time I saw him.
Me too.
I’m smiling like an idiot, and then fear washes over me. What if he went out with Ms. Constance and realized he didn’t want the complication that goes along with me? Maybe that’s what he was thinking. He never said he was thinking good things about me, just that he thought about me.
Want company? I could be in your bed in under a minute.
I rush to the window and peek through the blinds. Brook’s truck is parked down the street in front of the bar that led to our first night together.
I type Come here.
And then erase it before sending my real message.
Go home, Brooks.
I walk away from the window and hesitate for a moment before pressing send. I want nothing more than to tell him to come up and spend the night. But too much is on the line, and we need his head in the race more than I need my Brooks fix. I hold my breath, switching my phone off because I can’t bear to read his response. I c
rawl under the covers and bury my face until sleep pulls me under.
Chapter Nine
Brooks
The place cleared out two hours ago, and no one else is around. I couldn’t leave. My adrenaline is off the charts for the first time in years. I knew if I left, I’d never get a good night’s sleep and would end up partying with the fans at the RV park or banging on Faith’s door until she finally let me inside. I figured the best place for me was right here, alone, not doing anything to fuck up my future. I’m hunched over my car, checking under the hood, when Mr. Ridley walks into the garage.
“You ready for the race?” he asks, resting his arms on the frame and looking under the hood with me.
I’ve been gawking at the engine for hours. I haven’t touched a thing because there wasn’t anything that needed doing. The team made her purr after my practice run. She would be perfect for tomorrow’s qualifying race. “Ready as I’ll ever be, sir.”
“I remember my first big-time race like it was yesterday.”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to have fun tomorrow. Don’t worry about winning. I don’t expect that right out of the gate, but I want you to give it your best and enjoy the moment.”
“I will. I promise.” My heart’s racing just thinking about tomorrow. I’ve dreamed about this moment for so many years, the fact that the day is already here is surreal. I’m itching to get on the track, bumping against the competition and proving I belong out there. The last thing I want is to make Mr. Ridley regret signing me to the team.
