I made a sound, still watching the race. Drew was in the lead, Jace was in fourth, but I knew just by looking, he’d have third after the next turn.
“Trust me; it could have been a lot worse,” I murmured.
All the things I wanted to say, the words and emotions I sometimes felt were choking me, were all right there. Stuck.
Because I was afraid.
Afraid what would happen if I opened my mouth.
“And what’s this about Lorhaven? That cover, J, it’s been a PR nightmare. Everyone thinks you’re crossing over because of some guy.” He was clearly exasperated trying to manage me and keep my father happy as well.
I laughed.
It isn’t just one guy. It’s a whole lot of them.
“Look.” I ripped my eyes off the track and laid them on Hopper. The bite in my attitude fell to the wayside when I saw the expression in his blue eyes. He wasn’t trying to be a jerk. He was my friend. He was concerned, and he was also my manager. I knew Hopper cared about my career. He was the only one in the pro circles that treated me like I belonged there.
I sighed and looked back out, craning my neck in time to see Jace take third place. A feeling of pride filled me. They sped out of sight, and I started toward a big monitor where I could see the section of the track I couldn’t view from here.
Hopper grabbed my wrist, not roughly, just enough to get my attention. I didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” I said, using his first name, hoping to show him I really meant it, and shifted closer. “I just… He pissed me off in the beginning, trying to goad me. It’s like they all want me to snap or something. So they can say I don’t belong. And then the stuff with Jace…”
“Jace?”
“Lorhaven.” I corrected.
“Was that a joke for the media about him asking you out, or were you serious?”
I rolled my eyes.
He made a sound. “You like him?”
I shrugged. “He’s not as bad as I originally thought.”
Hopper nodded and glanced over toward Jace’s pit crew. His attention seemed to focus on something there and off of me. I started to turn to see if something was wrong, but he looked back. “Is that his brother?”
I glanced around at Arrow, who had a headset already over his blond head. “That’s Justin Bieber.” I joked.
Hopper grinned, but not the kind of smile that usually graced his face. This one was a little… fonder? Charmed? I stared at him, but he didn’t notice; he looked back in Arrow’s direction.
“Yeah, that’s his brother. Arrow.”
“He’s a driver, right?” There was definite curiosity in his tone.
I nodded.
Hopper crossed his arms in front of him, a thoughtful look coming over him. “Is he any good?”
“I haven’t seen him drive, but if he’s anything like Jace, then yeah, probably.”
“He looks young,” he said, almost to himself.
I tilted my head. Was Hopper checking out Jace’s brother? Like checking him out? Interesting.
He must have noticed my scrutiny, because he focused on me and cleared his throat. “Next time you’re in front of a reporter, maybe be a little less…”
“Myself?” I finished for him.
He laughed. “More yourself. That wasn’t you back there, Joey. That was the woman you want everyone to think you are.”
Ouch. That hit its mark.
I mumbled a reply, then went off to watch the race.
Maybe I’d been lying to myself all along.
Maybe I wasn’t fighting stereotypes… Maybe I was hiding behind them.
Lorhaven
My second, as I liked to call him, was Arrow.
You know the guy whose voice filled my ear when I was racing. The spotter. When I first started learning more about driving racecars (like besides on the street) the idea of anyone in my ear while I drove ticked me off.
I didn’t need some prick standing on the sidelines with a shitty view, telling me how to drive. I was in control of my car, my race. Not him.
I learned it was necessary. Guess even the stubbornest of dogs could be taught new tricks.
Or maybe I just really wanted to win.
My manager and head of my pit crew on race days technically would fill this role. He was a good guy, we got along, and he was invested in my career, so I liked him.
But he wasn’t my brother.
Trust and loyalty wasn’t something I handed out on a silver platter to anyone who smiled. It would take a lot more than working with him for several months and even traveling to tracks, interviews, and work shit to get me to want him as my eyes.
I only trusted Arrow with that.
He might not be the most experienced spotter, but that kid knew how to keep his eyes open for trouble. He learned that the hard way.
He also knew a lot about driving. I’d taught him everything I knew.
For months and months after he first moved into the hangar, that’s all we did. Drove, worked on cars, and drove some more. It was his sanctuary, his savior, and in a lot of ways, his revenge.
Because of that, he learned a lot fast, and he was a natural.
There was no one else I’d rather have on the top of my trailer today.
Currently, I was in third place.
I fucking hated third place. It was the worst place to me, and I wasn’t going to end up placing here again. Third place was lame. It denoted I wasn’t lousy enough to come in at a lower position, but not good enough to come in higher.
Second wasn’t my choice (obviously), but it was a hell of a lot better than third. At least second spoke to talent, to the potential to overtake the top at any given moment.
Basically, third place meant I, as a driver, was mediocre.
Fuck mediocre.
We were driving down the clock, there was only one lap left, and I was riding number two’s bumper like a heat rash in summer. He was gonna have to powder himself for a month after this shit was done because I was not backing down.
Not too far up was the gravel section. I could use it to my advantage. I spent one entire summer a couple years back driving on a gravel section of my turf near a lake no one ever really went to.
I was confident I could take it at an even faster speed than I had even just the lap before. Some of the guys were backing off the gas when we hit the section. I understood why; even I didn’t want to rip up my tires.
It was risky this close to the finish line. If I blew a tire (and they were already getting worn from this race), I wouldn’t be in second. I wouldn’t even be in third.
I glanced up ahead, my foot twitchy on the gas. Sometimes even when I debated a move, when I knew it was dangerous or could even backfire, my gut already knew.
I felt the decision long before I made it. It made my foot happy on the gas.
Clearly, I already knew what I was going to do today. Sometimes you just had to go balls to the wall and do it.
Forrester was holding steady in the top spot. I hated looking at that guy’s taillights. I hated even more knowing he was a damn good driver.
Maybe that’s why coming in second wasn’t as fucking embarrassing as it should be.
I’d never admit it out loud, but I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Forrester win the first NRR championship. That didn’t mean I was going to hand it to him, though. Hell no. If I got the chance to beat him, I would take it.
“I’m gonna take the gravel at full speed, try and lap this tool on the inside and take up number two,” I said into the piece to Arrow. “How’s my blind spots looking?”
“That’s a pretty ballsy move,” came his reply.
Only it wasn’t my brother’s voice.
It was Josie.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, learning the curve of it even more precisely than ever before. I kept my eyes trained on the road even though they sorely wanted to seek her out.
Just the sound of her voice was like premium octane
injected right into my heart. Even though I was starting to run a little low on adrenaline and energy stores, she was like a shot of epinephrine right to my chest.
“You got this, though. He’s getting antsy with you so far up his ass.” She went on like she had no idea what she did to me.
“Josie,” I said, putting the pressure on the guy in front of me. “I like the sound of your voice in my ear when I drive this fast.”
“Had to pry the headset off the Bieb’s head,” she quipped.
I laughed.
“All right, settle in.” Her voice changed, became a little more clipped, more serious. “I’ve been watching him a while. Like I said, he’s antsy. I don’t like the looks of his back passenger tire. He’s gonna have to slow so it doesn’t blow. But you need to be on guard in case it does. He’ll take you out, too, with you so tight against him.”
“Roger,” I said, focusing back in.
She wasn’t a distraction, maybe because I couldn’t see her in spite of knowing she was watching me. Her instructions were clear, concise, and put me in a steady state.
I trusted her.
With my life.
Not dramatic. That’s what this was sometimes, life and death. Right now, if I took a hit at this speed, my time could be over.
“Coming in hot on your blind spot, on the outside,” she warned. “Glide over, smooth, just a couple inches.”
I moved.
“That’s it.” I could hear the grin in her voice. “Way to put him in his place.”
“Gravel coming.”
“He’s gonna swing out a little. He’s gonna have to because of that tire. He can’t drift through gravel, and he can’t take that turn on the inside so sharp.”
I nodded, understanding her thought process.
“Guy behind you is a non-issue,” she said. “Get ready to punch it. I’ll tell you when the tool starts to edge over.”
I grinned even as I sat up a little straighter. If my heart pumped any faster, I’d need meds to bring it back into normal range. Doing this with her, taking this gravel, and trusting her to tell me when to punch it was like foreplay to me.
Hot fucking foreplay.
Her breathing increased. I felt her focus. My front tires met gravel.
“Go, now!” she yelled.
I pushed the gas in so much my back tires made a squealing sound on the pavement just before they transitioned into gravel. The rock spun up, and the sounds of it hitting my car were like the sound of rain on a window at night.
Chaotic but soothing at the same time.
“Inside,” she demanded just as my hands starting pulling the car inward.
“Shit!” she cursed. “He’s not moving over fast enough.”
“I got this,” I said.
“Move over, motherfucker!” she yelled.
I liked her sinful mouth. Especially when she yelled at my competition.
I glided into the inside, farther in than I wanted. My car was going almost at top speed as the gravel curved with the road slightly.
I took a page out of Forrester’s book.
I didn’t curve with it.
My two side tires stayed in the gravel, practically spraying the guy in second place as I pulled up beside him. The two tires on my side hit dirt.
It actually kinda helped with traction.
I manhandled the wheel and forced my car in the place I wanted. The driver beside me backed off just an inch, but an inch was all I needed.
“Pull it up!” Josie yelled. “Take him over.”
My back end fished a little. My stomach jerked.
“You got this, Jace,” Josie whispered in my ear.
I hit the gas.
Fired ahead.
Lapped up my competition and swerved into position behind Forrester’s bright-yellow bumper.
Josie whooped with glee, and I could hear Arrow shouting nearby.
“Fuck yeah!” I roared but tried not to think about it too much. I couldn’t celebrate yet. I still had to maintain for the rest of this lap.
“All right, his tire’s toast. The guy who tried to pass you is coming up on your inside.” Josie warned.
I swerved in a little, holding him back.
I wasn’t giving this shit up. He’d have to shove me off the road.
Which, frankly, wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.
Josie’s thoughts seemed to be in line with mine. “Put some distance between you.”
“On it.” I did. I could practically hear my tires groan.
“These tires are done,” I bitched.
“Just focus,” she said, calm. “I can see them. They’ll hold.”
She was right. They held. They carried me all the way over the finish line, right behind Forrester.
Second place.
Fucking right.
In my ear, Josie and Arrow were yelling and cheering. She laughed at something he said, but I couldn’t make it out.
I grinned, elation making me almost dizzy.
“I’m handing it back over to your commander,” she said, a smile in her voice.
“Hey, Josie,” I said as I slowed.
“Jace?”
“Don’t go too far when this is over. I’m coming for you.”
“I’ll make sure I’m easy to find.”
Slow enough now I was able to glance over toward my pit, dust rose up in the air, creating a veil in the sky. But there she was. Standing on top of my trailer, my brother right beside her.
Dark strands of long hair flowed out behind her like a flag waving in the wind.
Now that was a woman. One who could drive as well as she could ride… (my cock, that is).
Yeah, I would definitely be coming for her tonight.
Joey
I’m coming for you.
So ominous. So delicious.
The promise Jace whispered into my ear thumped just beneath my skin like a second pulse. I felt it there hammering away beneath my outer layer, but it wasn’t annoying. I reveled in it.
By the time he made good on his promise and found me, I’d be so worked up I wouldn’t need foreplay. God, I wanted him. I wanted the overwhelming size of his unbending cock pounding inside me.
I wanted his hands in my hair, his lips on mine, and more than anything, I wanted to hear him say my name about a thousand times before the night was done.
By the time the race was wrapped, the equipment and trucks were packed, all the fans had left the stands. I knew some would be loitering out in the parking lot; some with special pit passes still milled around. But this place was about eighty percent emptier than it had been before.
The scent of burning fuel, hot rubber, and exhaust still lingered. Dust still drifted across the wide-open spaces to occasionally hit me in the face, and the sound of laughter still echoed.
Drew was celebrating his second victory. He was now two for two. My father was going to be happier than a pig with organic feed and fresh mud to roll in. Everybody in the pit was sky high, and most of us were hoarse from cheering so loud when they handed Drew his shining trophy.
Right up on the podium, Jace stood beside him, his grin less smirky and his eyes less broody than I was used to, but he still made my heart race.
The longer hair on top of his head was all mussed and crazy, his face was streaked with sweat and dust, but his smile was genuine. The way he and Drew shook hands and posed for pictures was honest.
After a while, we made it back to the hotel, this great place that had a lodge feel. Even though it was summer, the huge stone fireplace crackled with a fire at the main entrance. I was pretty sure they were running the AC and the fireplace at once, but I understood why. The ambience of the glowing fire was a wonderfully welcome sight.
All the floors in this hotel were hardwood, something I didn’t see much. Usually, it was carpet or tile, but the distressed wood floors were perfect for this place. Everything was neutral, done in warm tones with pops of red.
My suite was on the same floor
as Drew and Trent’s. We rode up the elevator together and parted ways down the hall.
“We’re gonna stay in,” Drew told me when I stopped at my door. “Order some room service, chill.”
I nodded. “Of course. You’re probably both exhausted. I’m probably going to do the same.”
They both looked a little guilty standing there, feeling like jerks for leaving me on my own. I thought they were cute and obviously still so wrapped up in each other they still needed alone time. “Go.” I shooed them off. “Have some guy time.” I winked. “We’ll have breakfast in the morning.”
“Not too early,” Drew grumped.
Trent laughed.
I nodded sagely. “Just knock on your way down, and I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
I was mildly surprised when Trent stepped forward, kissed me on the top of the head, and whispered, “Good luck.”
I glanced up at him, and he winked.
He couldn’t possibly know what Jace said. He couldn’t conceivably know I was waiting for him.
Could he?
I watched the guys walk to their room. Drew opened the door, let out a long sigh, and went in. Trent stopped in their doorway, glanced back, and chuckled.
He totally knew.
Perceptive or psychic?
I made a face. He laughed again, then disappeared inside the room.
Inside my own room, I glanced around, noting the large king-size bed in the center. It was done all in white with a red throw at the foot of the bed. The room was pretty much standard for any hotel, just with a lodge feel.
I glanced over at the room service menu, my stomach growling. But my skin felt gritty with a fine layer of dust. Shower first, food after.
With my shower shoes in hand I went into the bathroom, kicked off my race day clothes, and slid on the shoes. Once the water for the shower was on, I brushed out my hair, surprised it was still straight and sleek. I wasn’t about to wash away the style. Instead, I wrapped my hair in a small towel and secured it with a clip from my bag.
The water felt good, the soap even better. I loved the track, but it was dirty, and I didn’t love feeling grimy. It didn’t take long to clean up, especially since I didn’t have to complete the task of my hair. Soon as I was toweled off, I smoothed some freshly scented body lotion into my skin and completed the rest of my routine.
#Swag (GearShark #3) Page 19
