by Chelle Bliss
“If we’re going to work together, we have to at least learn to be friends,” I say, figuring that’s the best thing for both of us.
“Faith, I don’t want friends.”
“You’ve made that quite obvious!” I throw my hands up in disgust and shorten my strides, turning every few feet and following the same path.
“You don’t understand,” he says in a soft and gentle tone.
“I do. I got the message loud and clear.”
“I want to be more than your friend, Faith. I want it more than anything in the world. I can’t lie to your father anymore. You’ll never understand because you’ve always had a dad in your life. I was going to tell him tonight. Did you know that? If I wanted to be your friend, do you honestly think I’d risk everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve?”
“I don’t know, Brooks. I barely know you.” I stop walking and stare at the door.
“For the first time, I felt like someone truly cared about me. Not just because of what I could do for them but because they like me.”
“My daddy has a soft spot for you,” I tell him, but I leave out the part that I do too.
There’s something about Brooks that sucked me in from the moment I saw him, and I haven’t been able to shake it. I still could’ve strangled him five minutes ago, but now…I don’t know what to feel about the guy.
“He’s not going to like me much when I tell him I’m falling in love with his daughter.”
My eyes widen, and I cover my mouth with my hands. Brooks is falling in love with me? I can’t believe he just said those words and into a door instead of to my face. “You’re what?” I ask because maybe I didn’t quite hear him right with the whooshing of blood through my ears.
“Open the door, Faith.”
BROOKS
“Hey,” she whispers as she cracks the door so I can see only one side of her face.
I’m leaning against the doorframe and trying to be cool. “Hey.”
She doesn’t say anything else. She’s just staring at me with one green eye hidden behind the door. I want to rush inside, scoop her into my arms, and steal her breath in a kiss, but I don’t want to ruin the moment. “I’m falling for you,” I say. And then I repeat it. These are the words she needs to hear so she can break apart this wall she’s built around herself to keep me out.
“You can’t.”
I place my hand against the door but don’t push my way inside. “Let me in.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I miss you.” I step forward and shove the door open. “I miss us.” Faith lets go of the handle and walks backward as I step inside. “I can’t keep doing what we’re doing. I want you, princess. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”
She stops moving and stares up at me with her big, beautiful eyes.
I close the space between us and slide my hand against her cheek. “I want you so badly my chest hurts. Being with you is the closest I’ve come to pure absolute happiness.” Her eyes widen, but I don’t give her time to answer. “I can’t go on ignoring you. I can’t pretend nothing happened. I can’t stop the knot in my stomach when you walk out of a room or the butterflies that fill my insides when I see your face.”
“Brooks.” Her voice cracks. Faith presses her hand against my chest but doesn’t push me away.
I lean forward, bringing my lips close to hers, and want nothing more than to kiss her. “Don’t make me leave.”
Her gaze dips to my mouth. “I can’t.”
“I need you, Faith,” I admit, and saying the words isn’t as hard as I imagined. I’ve always been the type who never needed anyone, even as a kid. I learned to fly solo and keep myself busy, but after being with Faith, I couldn’t stomach the thought of being alone again. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I press her body against mine.
She slides her hand up my arm. “Kiss me.”
My eyes do not leave hers as I close the space between our mouths. Tightening my grip, I fuse my lips to hers. I drink her in, soaking up every smell and taste as she moans into my mouth and tangles her fingers in my hair. There’s something so perfect about the way she kisses me, like she craves my touch just as much as I crave hers. I slide my hand down and cup her ass, squeezing it gently in my palm. I’m lost in Faith, drowning in her.
“What the hell?” a familiar voice says from behind me.
I freeze, and my eyes fly open to find Faith’s panicked eyes staring back at me.
Oh fuck.
This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go down. Hell, this isn’t how I wanted our relationship outed. The last person in the world I wanted to first find out about Faith and me is Roscoe, but here he is standing behind me, probably ready to pounce.
I release my hold on Faith and turn to face her brother and explain myself. “It’s not what it looks like.”
His nostrils are flaring, and his hands are balled in fists at his side. “It looked like you were kissing my sister.” There’s no amusement in his voice. No smile on his face. The hatred I saw coming from him when I first hit town is nothing compared to the murderous look he’s sporting now.
Faith grips my wrist and steps around me, putting herself in the line of fire. “Roscoe. Calm down. It was innocent.”
A vein running down the middle of Roscoe’s forehead pops as his shoulders bunch and his lips flatten. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, even with Faith standing in front of him. “There’s nothing innocent about the way he was touching you.”
She takes another step toward him and places her hand on his chest. “Okay. So, it was just what it looked like, but it is not what you think.”
Roscoe’s eyes dip to Faith for only a second before coming back to me. “This is between me and Brooks.”
Besides being head over heels in love with his sister, there’s one other thing I know for sure: I’m not getting out of this apartment without Roscoe laying hands on me. There’s nothing that can be said to defuse the situation or alleviate his anger. Not only was I manhandling her, we lied to him about it, hiding it behind his back.
Faith shoves him backward with her hand. “This is none of your business, Roscoe. I’m an adult. Brooks is an adult. What we do has nothing to do with you.”
“Like hell,” he growls. “Move, Faith.”
Roscoe grips her below her shoulders and lifts her into the air before setting her to the side like she’s a decoration. “You’re a real motherfucker. You’re going to pay for this!” Roscoe yells and charges at me. His fist is already pulled back, ready to strike as soon as he’s within range.
I’ve never had a sister. I don’t know what the rules are when it comes to shit like this. Do I stand here and let him beat me to a pulp to get his anger out so we can deal with the situation like men, or do I charge forward and fight back?
In a split second, I stand my ground, not backing up or rushing forward, and wait for his attack. He moves fast, hurling his fist through the air with so much rage in his eyes I should be scared, but I’m not.
My head snaps back as soon as his fist connects with my jaw, and my bones crunch under the pressure. Pain radiates across my face as I right myself. I don’t wait for the next blow. I see it coming. He already has his hand in the air, but I duck at the last second, making him miss.
“Let’s talk about this like men,” I say and rub the pain from my jaw.
“A man would’ve said something to me before trying to take my sister to bed.”
There was no way in hell I’d ever tell him I already had. What he walked in on was nothing compared to the things we did after the bar.
“Stop!” Faith yells, trying to come between us again, but Roscoe pushes her out of the way without even looking at her.
“Touch her again, and we’re going to have a bigger problem,” I warn him. She may be his sister, but I’ll happily lay him out for putting his hands on her. No man, not even me, has a reason to touch a woman that way, especially not Faith.
My words se
t him off again as he moves toward me with more determination than before. Before he has a chance to pull his fist back, I step forward and slam my knuckles under his jaw. His body lurches backward as he stumbles to find his footing. “Want more?” I taunt. I’m ready to do this until he gets it out of his system, because there’s no way in hell I’m leaving Faith alone or cutting her out of my life.
Faith jumps in her brother’s face, poking him in the chest with the tip of her finger. “Get the hell out of my apartment before I call the police,” she hisses.
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She squares her shoulders and leans forward. “Try me, brother.”
He holds his jaw in his palm and glares at me over her head. “This shit is not over.”
“Leave,” Faith says, pointing at the doorway and not moving.
Roscoe stares at me and growls before he takes a few steps back toward the open door. He cracks his knuckles and laughs like a psycho. “Wait until Daddy hears about this, Miss Priss. He’s going to lose his shit,” he says before turning his back and jogging down the stairs.
If he’s anything like Roscoe, I think he’s going to run me over with the race car he spent months fixing up just for me. Probably criss-cross my body more than once at maximum speed and still not feel satisfied afterward.
I place my hands on Faith’s arms and hold her. “I’m sorry, Faith.”
She turns to face me, on the verge of tears as her bottom lip trembles. Her eyes skate across my face, taking in the damage. “Jesus,” she whispers and touches my cheek.
I wince but try to play everything off. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Uh-huh.” There’s a hint of a smile on her face. “Just like us kissing wasn’t exactly what it looked like.”
I brush my mouth against hers as lightly as possible because my jaw feels like it’s on fire. “I better go. I don’t want your daddy finding me here tonight.”
She sighs as her shoulders sag. “I don’t want you to leave. He’s not going to tell my father anything. At least not tonight. Roscoe needs you in that race tomorrow. Afterward”—she grimaces—“all bets are off.”
“Great,” I groan, knowing my day of reckoning is coming.
Chapter Thirteen
Brooks
One of the crew looks up from the hood of my car and catches sight of my bruises. “What the hell happened to your face?”
I spent all night icing the damn thing to avoid swelling and bruising, but it was a losing battle. No amount of concealer I’d borrowed from Maud could cover the red and purple marks from the bottom of my jaw to my cheek. “Nothing,” I say and turn my face away from him.
“Who’s the girl?” he replies with a whimsical smile.
I pull the brim of my hat down and keep walking, ignoring him entirely. So far, I have been able to avoid Mr. Ridley, but I know he is not too far away. Roscoe’s probably already ratted me out, and chances are I will be off the team immediately after today’s race.
“Brooks!” Mr. Ridley yells in the distance. I freeze and think about hightailing it in the other direction. “Get your ass over here.”
My stomach sinks when I see Roscoe standing next to him with his arms crossed, glaring at me. The little prick ratted on me. I know he said something because he couldn’t be a man and let me tell his father first. Walking in their direction, I stare at the ground as an enormous knot forms in the pit of my stomach and bile rises in my throat.
“Let me see your face,” Mr. Ridley says when I’m only a few feet away.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, waiting for the words that will inevitably come from his lips. Slowly, I lift my eyes to his and brace myself for what comes next.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head as his eyes roam around my face. “I don’t know what happened last night between the two of you, but leave it off the track. You got me?”
“Yes, sir.” I nod with confusion as my eyes flicker to Roscoe.
“I don’t give a shit if you two want to beat the hell out of each other, but don’t mess with the team. You hear me?”
“Yes, Dad,” Roscoe says, glaring at me.
“We’ll figure this mess out later. You two need to be able to work together. I can’t have you beating the piss out of one another and jeopardizing our entire season. I want you to keep it clean out there and bring home a title. Don’t bring your personal shit into my cars.”
“Yes, sir,” I repeat.
“We won’t.” Roscoe’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“Shake hands like men.” Mr. Ridley dips his chin and looks between the two of us.
Neither of us move until Mr. Ridley crosses his arms and grumbles. We shake, but nothing about it is comfortable or natural.
“Now go get ready. We have a race to win. You’re teammates, and you’d better damn well start acting like it, for Christ’s sake.”
I’m in shock and confused as Roscoe mutters something under his breath and walks away. I would’ve bet everything I owned on the fact Roscoe would run straight to his dad and tell him everything, but I don’t think he did. I’m sure he’s waiting for the perfect moment, but he actually surprised me.
Pulling my hat back down, I head toward the company trailer to change into my suit and prep for the long race ahead of me. I got to get my head in the race and focus all my energy on winning—or at least trying like hell to beat Roscoe and not think about what’s going to happen afterward. Whether or not I have a future on this team, today’s race is more important than any I’ve ever driven before. Once Mr. Ridley finds out, I need to make sure I’m not expendable or easily replaced.
“Does he know?” Faith asks as soon as I close the door, and I nearly trip backward.
“Damn, girl.” I clutch my chest and exhale. I’ve already had enough stress thrown at me this morning that Faith’s little ninja act only makes things worse. “You scared the shit out of me.”
She pushes off the couch and walks toward me, looking petrified. “Does he know?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t think Roscoe told him.”
Her eyes widen. “You sure about that?”
“Yep. Your dad doesn’t know anything besides Roscoe and I have matching bruises. But he made us promise whatever shit went down stays off the track.”
Faith laughs, tipping her head backward as her red hair cascades over her shoulders. “Roscoe is not going to let it go so easy. He’s going to try to bury you today.”
“Should I let him win?” The thought alone makes me sick, but this is not only my livelihood, this is Faith’s family.
“Never,” she says quickly as she wraps her arms around my middle and rests her head against my chest. “Whatever will be, will be. You do what you have to do on that track and let me handle Roscoe.”
Holding her close to me, I press my lips against her hair and breathe her in. “I was out of line last night when I hit Roscoe.”
“He hit you first. I can’t blame you for that.”
I should’ve ducked again and tried to de-escalate the situation instead of hitting him back. The grown-up in me knows that fighting doesn’t solve anything, but the other part—the one who’s still willing to risk a beatdown to stand my ground—loved getting a lick in. In reality, his face looks worse than mine, which probably drives the dagger deeper into his back and only makes his hatred that much more intense.
“I wish I could’ve stayed last night. I slept like shit.”
“Mom troubles?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“No,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I put her on a bus back to Tennessee last night before I came to your place.”
“Oh,” she says and frowns. “Are you okay? We never got to talk about what happened.”
I grip her shoulders, trying to stop myself from kissing her. “I’m fine. She’s gone. I want to pretend like she never came to Buxton.”
“We’ll talk more about her when you’re ready and we have time.�
� She glances over my shoulder at the clock. “I better let you get changed.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. “Good luck today, tiger,” she whispers against my lips.
“If I beat Roscoe, he’ll kill me in my sleep.” I laugh and am only partially kidding.
“He’s so blind with rage he won’t have his mind one hundred percent in this race. If you can beat him, do it.”
“What if I beat him? Will you be there when I cross the finish line?”
“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.” She smiles and touches my face but avoids my bruise.
I kiss her once again. This time deeper, longer, and harder than before. For the next four hours, I need to put my feelings for Faith aside and focus on one thing: kicking Roscoe Ridley’s ass.
When Faith leaves, I sit on the bench, staring at my uniform, and wonder if this will be the last time I’ll ever wear it.
FAITH
“Breathe, baby.”
My mother squeezes my shoulder tightly as I stare across the track. I gasp, totally unaware I had stopped breathing, or blinking, for that matter. The race is so close between Roscoe and Brooks, I can barely see straight, and I’m worried if I close my eyes, even for a second, I’ll miss the most important moment.
They have switched positions at least half a dozen times, and fans are going berserk in the stadium, cheering and hollering for the newest sensation and the man I’m quickly falling in love with. My body tenses as the realization finally hits me.
That’s exactly what I’ve been doing—falling in love with Brooks Carter.
“Fuck,” I groan and glance at my mother with wide eyes.
My mother turns to me, her eyebrows drawn down in confusion because she heard that clear as a bell over our headphones. Usually we listen to the pit crew, but today I can’t take the stress of overhearing Brooks and Roscoe as they race. Instead, my mother and I tuned into the same channel so we could talk, but we’ve been so engrossed in the race, we’ve barely spoken.
