Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

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Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) Page 13

by Shey Stahl


  I pushed against him trying to get away. “There’s something wrong with you.” I laughed once but then gained control over my expression and crankcase who was back to making justifications the rest of me couldn’t play along with today.

  “I just need a day. My ass hurts and my crankcase feels like I let the entire goddamn state of North Carolina align bore me.”

  Jameson growled pushing me down on the bed, my legs automatically spread. “I will be the only one doing any align boring when it comes to your crankcase...only me.” His arms wrapped under and over my shoulders, pulling me snug against his hips.

  Of course, he was already ready and my will power was crumbling for his lift and those damn justifications.

  “Hello Mr. Possessive.” I chuckled trying to squirm away.

  “I’m not apologizing for that either.” His grip tightened. “You will only be my friend with benefits, no one else.”

  “Does that rule apply to you too?”

  Oh god, shut up!

  Despite this, he laughed against my neck. “Of course it does,” Jameson pushed his hips against mine revealing his excitement. “Now let’s see about this valve binding problem you have.”

  “Jameson,” I tried again to push against his chest. “I’m serious I need a break.”

  Pressing his hips against mine one last time, he let out a deep sigh before rolling away. “Damn it,”

  Once he was dressed, we made our way to the garage where Jameson forgot about me turning him down. Instead, he was focused on the race car now and the job he has to do.

  Well until Nancy approaches us. Chipper as always, she bounced into the garage area, her rusty hair pulled back under her Simplex hat.

  “Oh Sway,” She breathed reaching for me. “You’re here again.”

  “Yeah, I’m going home after Sonoma.” I pulled away and handed her the posters Jameson signed earlier this morning. “Just taking a summer break after college,”

  Jameson walked over to sign a few die-cast cars for the Children’s Hospital Nancy brought with her.

  “Jameson,” Nancy said sternly, her green eyes glaring. “Now, I don’t ask a lot from you at home because you’re rarely there but I expect you to respect our home while you’re living in it.” She poked his chest with a black sharpie. “I expect you to clean up your bedroom and fix the closet. What the hell happened in there? It looks like a gang bang took place.” Nancy stood there waiting for an answer.

  Rubbing the spot his mother poked, Jameson let out a loud laugh as my cheeks began to heat rapidly. “Well a “gang bang” implies a group of people. There was only two.” He replied still signing the various items Nancy was handing him.

  I giggled when he said “gang bang” because he resorted to air quotes to get his point across.

  “Well,” Nancy actually looked somewhat relieved that her son didn’t have a gangbang in her house. “just clean it up.”

  Once she walked away, Jameson started laughing walking back over to his car to get ready for his first practice session.

  This weekend they were racing at Pocono Raceway in Long Pond Pennsylvania. It was a two and half-mile track with three turns, each with its own degree of banking, making the set-up tricky at times. Most people call it the superspeedway that drives like a road course. Jameson liked the track but it wasn’t his favorite. He preferred the mile and half and the short tracks saying it reminded him of his dirt track days growing up.

  I sat on the pit box with Kyle when Jameson went out for practice listening to the in-car audio.

  “You copy bud?” Kyle asked when Jameson made it onto the track.

  “Yep,” Jameson confirmed while the radio crackled.

  God I love that radio voice! It’s like the damn whispering thing he does...You need help Sway. Maybe even therapy when you get home.

  “All right Aiden—he’s all yours.” Kyle said. “Let me know how the car feels bud.”

  The first few laps were quiet while Aiden and Jameson talked back and forth guiding him through any traffic that was out there. They seemed better.

  Jameson and Aiden had been friends for the past few years now—I’d hoped that something like this didn’t get in the way of their friendship and so far, it didn’t seem like it was going to. That’s the cool thing about men other than the fact they get to stand to pee. Once they express their anger for someone and get what they need off their chest, they seem to forget all about what went down. Women should take some pointers from them.

  I watched as Jameson got loose in turn three, the car jerked sideways and brushed the wall, Kyle cringed beside me. “Damn it.”

  “Brushed the wall, turn three.” Aiden announced. “No damage.”

  “Looks like you got your hands full there.” Kyle looked over the lap times on the computer. “What’s the car doing?”

  Jameson was quiet for a moment and then came on. “I’m all over the fucking place. I can’t keep the damn thing straight. I can’t drive in as hard in three but I can go anywhere I want in the other turns.”

  “Bring it in.” Kyle told him. “We’re gonna put it on the scales and change the springs.”

  After another two laps, Jameson brought the car in the garage and the crew went to work on the adjustments.

  Lounging around in the garage area, he talked with Tony, the tire specialist, for a few moments. He thought something felt off about the tires they were using but Tony assured him they were the same.

  Jameson was involved in all aspects of the car. That stemmed from Jimi. Growing up Jimi made it clear Jameson couldn’t just drive the car. He had to understand the cars, be able to build them and fix them when needed. In a way, that’s what made Jameson the type of driver he was today.

  Most drivers just drove these days but Jameson could do just about anything to a race car and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t drive the wheels off. His understanding for how everything worked together and his ability made for a lethal combination on the track.

  While I waited for him to finish-up explaining the handling of the car to Kyle and Mason, Alley walked into the garage, her heels clicking against the concrete.

  “Is he done yet?” she asked annoyed. She looked pissed.

  “I think he will be in a minute, why?” I leaned back against the wall trying to appear calm.

  She glared towards Jameson. “I just have a bone to pick with him.” She turned towards me. “When did you get here?”

  Shit, don’t panic and be sneaky.

  “Oh...I never left.” I tried to act all nonchalant about it so she wouldn’t catch on but I still hadn’t improved on being sneaky. “I traveled with Jameson from Charlotte.”

  By the grace of god, Jameson walked over right about the time she was starting to figure it out.

  “You’re an asshole!” Alley yelled pushing him into the wall beside me.

  Jameson smirked steadying himself by reaching for me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He put his arms around my shoulders wrapping around my chest and then used me as some sort of defense mechanism against the “Alley wrath” as he frequently called it.

  “Oh, I think you do, Jameson.” Alley got right in his face. “My son called a one year-old little girl a ruthless bitch because of you.”

  Both Jameson and me started laughing at that point.

  I know it’s not supposed to be funny that Lane called a little girl this but it is funny. I only wish I could have seen it. Lane had the cutest little chipmunk voice. It was probably adorable like those Subway commercials with the kids talking.

  “Stop laughing, both of you.” she snapped changing her focus into work mode. “Jameson you have an autograph session in an hour. I suggest you get to it. After that, you have a meeting with Simplex and an interview with Track Pass at six.”

  Jameson just nodded to everything she told him pulling his drivers suit down around his waist.

  Alley started to walk away but turned when she reached the bay doors at the edge of his car. “
Oh and Jameson,” she glared directly at him when he glanced up at her. “Paybacks are a ruthless bitch.”

  Jameson rolled his eyes imperviously sitting on some tires before pulling me onto his lap.

  “Uhh...should I be sitting on your lap here in public?” I asked glancing around the garage. The crews were all distracted by their duties; I still thought this was rather public of him.

  “Fuck what they think.”

  “Hmmm,” Part of me wished Chelsea would walk by right about now. Punching her just didn’t seem like enough. I wanted her to see this, Jameson and me together, in public.

  Now you really do sound like you’re in high school.

  “Have dinner with me tonight.” Jameson whispered pushing my hair off my shoulder to reveal my bare skin that wasn’t covered by my tank top.

  “Friends with benefits go to dinner together?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He nodded his head once. “Well,” he leaned forward and put his lips at my ear. “We are exclusive friends with benefits. And I say we make our own rules to this.” He kissed my neck softly before pulling away. “So if I want to take you to dinner, I think I have every right to, as your exclusive friend with his determined benefits.”

  “His determined benefits,” I repeated.

  “Yep,” he said popping the “p” at the end.

  “So what are his determined benefits anyways?”

  “I can’t give my secrets away just yet.” His eyes sparkled. “What would be the fun in that?”

  “Does it involve more race cars?” He piqued my curiosity when he said his determined benefits.

  Jameson winked. “I would say race cars could be arranged.” He smiled wickedly leaning into me again. “Do you wanna go for a ride in my race car?”

  “Actually, I’m dying to go for a ride. I’m being serious. I really want to take a ride in your race car.”

  “Really, you want like a real ride in my car? As in that race car?” He gestured towards his car parked beside us.

  I nodded my head like a five-year old wanting candy or a pit lizard in heaven, either way, I was ecstatic at the possibility.

  “Let me talk to the officials and see what they say.”

  He acted as if this wouldn’t be a problem but I wasn’t getting my hopes up. I knew the NASCAR track officials had rules against this kind of thing. It could potentially be a huge liability if something were to happen on the track.

  Jameson went out for another practice session after the crew finished the changes, so I went with Emma and Nancy to set up his autograph session.

  Emma and I talked and of course, I forgave her.

  How could I not? She was the closest thing I had to a sister.

  “I just want you to be careful with him.” Emma looked close to tears again. “I know that he cares for you, that’s evident. I just...he’s focused on his career right now and Jameson doesn’t know how to do both. He doesn’t want to get hurt either.”

  I just nodded because I knew. I knew he was incapable of offering me anymore than his exclusive friend with his determined benefits but at that point, I didn’t care.

  My logic was so messed up it was becoming hard for me to even realize how far we were really getting into this. It had only been going for a few days now but with every touch, every kiss, every tender word spoken between us, my heart was falling deeper and deeper in love with him. Before long, there’d be no going back. Therapy would be my only answer, and lots of ice cream.

  “I can handle it, Emma.”

  Walking towards a box of t-shirts, I began taking them out of the box, one-by-one, to avoid anything more details into my stupid logic.

  I was screwed.

  Once I had all the shirts lined up, I stepped back to examine the way they looked. Again, it was entertaining to me to see a boy I grew up with plastered all over the place, as the he was a huge star. The difference, he was a huge star now.

  “So you must be Sway Reins?” a man asked from behind as I daydreamed.

  I turned to see Darrin Torres standing there with a grin.

  “I...uh...yeah, I’m Sway.”

  He reached his hand towards me. “It’s nice to meet you, Sway. I’m Darrin Torres.”

  “I know who you are,”

  “So I see you’re with Jameson’s team?” He hinted looking at the t-shirts I had arranged.

  “Well, no. I’m just helping out. I’m...” my voice trailed off because I couldn’t really say “fuck buddy” in public, or could I?

  “His girlfriend?” Darrin finished.

  “No...we’re...I’m not his girlfriend, just friends.”

  “Oh,” Darrin smiled, his eyes dropped from mine to my lips and then back. “Does that mean I can take you to dinner tonight?”

  Christ he’s bold.

  “No, it doesn’t mean you can take her to dinner tonight.” I heard Jameson’s furious voice from behind.

  Darrin laughed darkly, his eyes focused on Jameson standing behind me. “I wouldn’t advise starting anything here with all your fans around, Jameson.” Darrin suggested motioning towards the crowds gathering around, all waiting to catch a glimpse of Jameson. “I just want Sway to know they’re...other options for her besides friends.”

  You couldn’t miss the way he articulated the word friends, implying he knew exactly what we were doing.

  Turning around, I focused on Jameson instead, pushing his chest. “Jameson, he’s right. Don’t do anything stupid.” I warned attempting to catch his gaze.

  Jameson bypassed me and stood face-to-face with Darrin. “Stay away from Sway.” He snarled, his body instinctively preparing for a fight.

  His voice lowered and they exchanged a few words we couldn’t hear until Darrin shook his head slowly and started to walk away. “Good luck with the...friend’s thing.”

  I turned back to a fuming Jameson and hit him in the shoulder. “Stop it. You have an autograph session.”

  With the help of Emma, we finally got Jameson calmed down enough to have a seat and show his fans a normal human being side and not the crazed lunatic he could be.

  Once around his fans, he began to enjoy himself and gave them the attention they deserved after waiting in line all morning just to see him.

  As with any scheduled autograph session, he was attentive to each fan. He smiled, posed for pictures with them if they asked, and actually stopped to have conversations with them. Still, a piece was missing. I knew him well enough to know this wasn’t him; this was the guarded version he had around his fans.

  The garage groupies annoyed me and disturbed my daydreams.

  They were clingy, way to chipper and just downright slutty for being underage. I didn’t think a twelve-year old could be slutty but today, I was proved wrong by one who was wearing a mini skirt shorter than mine had been and a bikini top trying to reveal her none existent funbags to Jameson.

  He looked up and took a double take when she leaned forward but what I thought was a double take of “Hey, look at her” was quickly squashed when Jameson shook his head, signed her poster and then threw a shirt at her and told her to put it on.

  Emma and I laughed for a good ten minutes when she stomped away over to Paul’s hauler to get his autograph.

  Paul Leighty was another rookie in the cup series this year and yes, I will admit, Paul was attractive with his dark skin, brown eyes and one hell of a body but I was a sucker for my tall beautiful rusty haired hot head.

  Finally, the autograph session was over, practices were finished up, Jameson finished his interview with Track Pass and we were now on our way to dinner at the Tokyo Tea House in Pocono Summit.

  It was strange going out to dinner with him now. Over the years, we’d gone out on many occasions but it just felt different now. I wasn’t sure how to act around him so I stayed quiet in fear I would say something incredibly asinine because of the lack of oxygen to my brain.

  It was all going to my lungs just trying not to hyperventilate.

  Jameson noticed my lack
of conversation and heavy breathing during dinner and threw an arm around my chair as we were sitting at the sushi bar.

  “Why are you so quiet?” he asked leaning into my shoulder.

  I shrugged and gave him a small tentative smile. “No reason.” I lied.

  My heart was pounding in my chest, apparently trying to see if there was a way to pump more blood to my brain. It wasn’t helping though, not in the least. I was pretty sure it was full, but didn’t really have the opportunity to dwell on it before Jameson spoke again.

  “Is it because you’re horny?” holding my gaze, he seductively licked sauce from his thumb.

  “You’re such a pervert.” I took another bite of my spicy tuna roll keeping my stare ahead of me. “Is that all you think about?”

  He wrinkled his nose but nodded. “Sadly, yes.”

  “You never used to be this perverted, what happened?”

  “Mmm...my friend with benefits,” he leaned closer, his lips at my ear when he started with the whispering. “She has seemed to have brought out some hormone enraged fifteen-year old boy in me that can only think about sex...” his voice lowered with a husky edge. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around my chair started at my knee and began to trace lightly up my thigh.

  His feather light touch alone was enough to make me want to rip his clothes off right there in that damn restaurant and make him scream my name in front of this poor man serving our sushi rolls.

  Jameson continued with that damn whispering and I soon realized this was part of his plan he wouldn’t say earlier, his determined benefits.

  “All I think about now is her amazing body wrapped around mine, broken furniture...” his hand traveled closer to the promise land, inching along with both determination but just enough hesitation it was enough to drive me mad. “Race car hoods...” he breathed heavily, his hand reaching my crankcase and then dancing circles around my ignition switch, “and bearing alignment,” His lips pressed to my neck once and his tongue darted out, licking me. “...assembly lube and align boring. God honey, the affect you have on me is...unbelievable.”

  Hot damn.

  My hand flew up in the air as though I had the golden ticket. “Check please!” I suddenly yelled.

 

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