Текст книги "Let Me Go"
Автор книги: Michelle Lynn
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
I’VE SEARCHED MY brain all night to figure out how to get Paige to forgive me. It was an asshole move and I knew it the minute I left that stage. The problem is, when anyone tugs at my heart, it’s a reflex to drive that person away. For some reason though, with Paige, I give a shit what she thinks of me.
After we played our set, I left Aces and came back home with the hope she’d be sprawled on the couch watching television. She wasn’t, so I holed myself up in my room, flipping through channels on the television until I heard her car, followed by her footsteps through the back door and trudging up the stairs. Her shadow was visible outside my door, and I hoped for a moment she’d knock, I’d apologize, and we could go back to the budding friendship we started. Instead she continued down the hall and her door silently shut. I lay awake most of the night, rehashing all the reasons to stay away from our escalating flirtatious relationship. To distance myself from her, let her realize the asshole I am.
When the shower starts up, I escape my room and go downstairs. Dex and Chrissy are still sleeping soundly after staying out most of the night with Sadie and Brady. I scramble her eggs runny like she prefers, toast a few pieces of bread and place the plate on the table with a glass of orange juice. Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, I jot down a small note, and disappear to my garage.
Why can’t I allow her to believe in the false persona I mask for everyone else?
With it still being so early, I position my earbuds in and crank up Linkin Park. Rolling under my car, I double-check she’s good for racing tonight. Drag racing has been my release since last year. You’d think the opposite, that after the accident with Carly, I’d never purposely speed, but the high speeds and winning, distract me until the end. The control I manifest with the steering wheel in my palms when I cross that finish line, and the fact my body is intact pisses me off. My therapist says it’s normal, some lame excuse of a survivor’s guilt. She assures me it will end, but I desperately want the imprisonment of my happiness to remain with me for the rest of my life.
Drowning in my problems, I’m abruptly yanked from under the car. Before I practically roll down the damn driveway, my feet skid the wheels to a stop. “What the fuck?” I stand up, tearing out my earbuds, and scowl to the responsible party.
There she stands, smirking while she taps the white piece of paper against her lips. “So.”
As happy I am to see her denying the smile that wants to break from her lips and the fact she’s about to forgive me for last night elates me, the other Rob perches strong on my shoulder to squash it.
I trail back up the driveway, with my roller tucked under my grip. “So? You almost killed me.” I toss the cart against the cement and grab a wrench.
“Deservedly so.” I catch the shrug of her shoulders on the way back over to the car. Opening the hood, I distract myself from her long legs.
“Paige, I’m an ass. What can I say, except that I’ll be one again?” She reads my note word for word and I hide the smirk that wants to break. “Not very apologetic if you ask me.” She raises her eyebrows and sits down in the white plastic chair, propping her foot up, hugging her leg into her body.
From the corner my eye, I spot her upper thigh exposed now and I shift my stance to adjust myself. “I said I was sorry last night, and you still walked away.”
She stands up and leans over the car. “I was mad. I’m not a very good talker when I get angry.” She places her hand on my hand. “Thank you for breakfast.”
I face her; amazed she’s going to let this go. Not dig into it twenty times over. “That’s it?” I ask her and she smiles, nodding her head.
“Yep.” She begins walking out of the garage and suddenly this rush of wanting her near overtakes me.
“Wait!” I call out and she spins around. Jesus, her nipples are practically popping out on display from the morning chill in the air. Breaking the distance, I try to keep my eyes focused on her face. “What are you doing tonight?” Not sure why the question even comes out, but it does.
Her feet shuffle, and my eyes remain fixed on her lips. Her tongue snakes out and I’m positive my dick just saluted. But not wanting to check, I patiently wait for her to answer. “Um . . .” She stalls and can I really blame her.
“I swear to you, I’ll make up for last night.” I reach for her hand but she wraps it around her stomach. Shit, there are her tits again, begging for my attention.
“Breakfast was enough, thank you.” She nods, twisting around and disappears into the house.
I don’t go after her; instead I stand in the driveway regretting every decision I’ve made when it comes to her. When I finally come back to present, I step into the garage and throw the socket wrench at the wall. “Fuck,” I mutter. Pacing back and forth along the length of my Mustang, I contemplate what the hell to do. Maybe a drive out to my hometown, talk to my mom would do the trick. Something to confirm the nightmare I made and convince me to stay the hell away from Paige. Leave her intact for someone else to love instead of the torment I’m sure to drag her through.
Noticing Dex’s truck blocking my way, I sit on the chair, my leg bouncing a mile a minute. Fuck, what am I supposed to do? I want her to come with me, watch me race.
“You’re thinking pretty damn hard there.” Brady runs up the driveway, panting.
I roll my eyes at the sweat dripping down his face. “Did you turn the wrong way?” I don’t peer up to him, and he walks over to the fridge and grabs a water. “Help yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He twists the bottle open and I really hope he doesn’t lecture me today. I’m not in the mood for it. I swear him and my mom have phone conversations about me.
He sits down on the garage floor and stares up at me. “So, I have a question for you.” I glance through the corner of my eye and suck in a deep breath.
“What?” I sigh and sit up straighter in the chair.
“Will you be a groomsman?” He smiles and I do to. Although marriage might not be in the cards for me, it suits Brady. He and Sadie had that ever after thing lined up a month after meeting.
“Really going through with it? The whole forever until death thing,” I razz him and he chuckles. I’m envious of the guy, no qualms whatsoever. He’s a different guy than me though, that’s for sure.
“Yep. I am.”
“Sadie okay with it?”
“Yeah, she’s fine with it. There’s only one thing.” His lips straighten and I know the favor before it leaves his mouth. “Grant is my best man.”
I scratch my head, knowing I need to make amends with Grant and Jessa eventually, but the thought of doing so is as welcoming as an electric chair. “I’ll go over there this week.” Brady’s done way too much for me not to reciprocate.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He stands up, stretching his legs. “It’s about time we get it all done with anyway, and my wedding is the perfect occasion.” He laughs and I don’t.
“You do know it’s the event of the year. I mean people can’t stop waiting by their mailboxes for the invitation,” I joke, because Sadie has gone overboard on this wedding planning. When I lived over there, I swear she was on the phone everyday with someone about a mundane detail.
“She just wants it perfect.” Brady excuses his fiancée’s bridezilla mannerisms.
“Yeah, I know.” I stand up, stepping toward him. “Thank you, I’m honored you asked.” He nods and smiles.
“Sadie had so many girls, I had to fill in.” A small smirk crosses his lips and we both know neither one of us are going to be sappy about this shit. He asked and I accepted. The end.
“I’ll take care of it.” I inhale a deep breath, running my hand over my face. “I may bring Sadie with me.”
His eyes light up. “That’s a good idea, actually. Let me know when you—”
I wave him off. “No, I got this,” I assure him and he nods.
“Okay, well now you’ll be added to the email list. Prepare yourself, you get info daily.” He shrugs his shoulders because he has no control of Sadie’s actions.
Never wanting to give him too hard of a time with his fiancée, I shout down the driveway. “I’ll welcome them.”
He lifts his arm up and waves at me while continuing to jog down the driveway.
I watch Brady disappear into his house, and Paige exits ours. Not allowing her out of my sight again, I steadily stride toward her, and her steps quicken to her car. As her hand reaches for the handle, I step in front blocking her. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out to the street. “Truce?” I offer and she huffs.
She gives me her attention and her eyes pin me to the car. “Rob, I’m not into playing games.”
I hold my hands up. “Me either. Please come tonight, I’d love to show you what my racing is all about.” I shoot a cheesy smile her way and she weakens slightly.
Biting her lip to keep from smiling, I laugh. “Come on.” I pout my lip out and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She pokes me in the chest. “This is your last chance Rob, got it?” she pokes again and before I can grab her finger she yanks it back.
“Be ready at six.” She arches her eyebrows at me. “Please.”
“I guess you’ll find out at six.” She motions with her finger to step aside and I don’t want to push my luck.
She backs her car out down the driveway, and I stand there watching her taillights until the sleek black car whirls around the corner.
I LEAVE THE safety of the shower, wrap a towel around me, and rub my arm against the cloudy mirror. Giving myself a hard examination through the small rounded space, I dig for some reason that I agreed to go with him tonight. Is it how curious I am to the demon he’s fighting, or his flirtatious acts toward me? Whatever the odd sensations he’s drawing out from me, I can’t tell him to fuck off and never speak to him again. Even when he’s given me more than one reason in the past weeks. I know he’s only into me for a fun night or two and maybe that’s exactly what I need. Someone to fuck me so hard, my own problems fade away even if for only a night. But, I’m attached, invested into what the hell haunts him every night.
Last night after I went to bed, I heard his gut-wrenching scream, and I shot up in bed. Staring at the shared wall, I contemplated comforting him, or ignoring him. Not wanting to overstep any boundary, I stayed in my room. I pressed my ear up to the wall, my heart weighed heavy from his small whimpers. What is this boy, who appears to have it all together, fighting? The cocky mouth, arrogant walk, and hot as hell guy is tortured from something. I have to figure it out; he has all these friends and they are blind to his deep layers underneath his facade. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my towel across my body. Should have gone into counseling instead of business.
I open the door and startle back. “What’s up, hot stuff?” Rob slinks in the doorway and I back up until the doorframe presses at my back. He’s got his work pants on, barely hanging on his hips. The waistband of his boxers peek out, and his smooth chest is bare. He clearly doesn’t manscape by the patch of dark chest hair that travels down his stomach. My hand moves up into my hairline, my fingers slowly graze down my neck as I commit to memory every crevice of muscles. “Did you need something?” His voice alarms me and I step back from the small confines.
“No.” It’s low and I wouldn’t even be sure he heard me except for the chuckle as I flee to my room.
I shut my door and rest my back against it, sliding down until my butt thumps on the floor. With my knees folded up to my chest, all those flirting moments with Rob swim through my brain again. What the hell am I doing? As though a lightbulb flicks on, I realize that the fix-it side of me brought out by my mother’s problems just wants to help him. I don’t have to date him. I can be only his friend and hopefully save him from the darkness that surely surrounds him. I smile and my teeth nail down my lip as I nod my head. That’s it. Perfect.
Flittering about my room, I begin the horrible task of getting ready. I decide to wear a pair of jeans and T-shirt with my Toms. One thing that attracts me to Rob is his simplicity of attire. The boy lives in jeans and plain T-shirts in an array of colors. The only thing I’ve seen him change more than his underwear is his watch. Another odd anomaly of his. A watch collector, who would have guessed.
With my curls not cooperating, I pull my hair up in a ponytail just as a knock punches on my door. Standing up from my make-do vanity on the floor, I look at myself one more time and then step over to answer the door. “Ready?” He steps to the side, positioning his arm out for me to take.
I giggle. He’s more dapper tonight with jeans that bear no stains and a Henley shirt that fits nice and snug along his chest, ending right before his black belt. Checking out his wrist, I find a shiny silver watch wrapped around it. By the time I reach his eyes, after thoroughly ogling his body, his perfect white teeth surface from his opened smiling lips. “Good?” he asks and I set myself up for failure when I ask.
“What?” I tilt my head.
“Am I good enough to eat?”
“You know I think you’ve been polite for about,” I raise my wrist like I’m clocking the time. “One minute?” I question and he laughs.
“I tried, doesn’t that count?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, peeking from me to the floor. I desperately want to call him out, but I can’t in good conscious. So, I link my arm through his and tug him to start walking.
“Yes, it counts.” I wait for his eyes to meet mine. The clearest blue I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but imagine him as a little boy every time I look in them. The light contrast to his black hair brings out the exotic and mysterious side of him. “Thank you.” His eyes study my lips and then close briefly before he nods.
Rob and I have small talk and he gives me the low down on the car racing scene among a little about him during our hour trip. After learning Rob is an only child, his parents own a family printing business in the small town he grew up in, I’m wondering what on Earth his demon could be. He’s open with any question I ask and by the time we drive down the long secluded road in the middle of nowhere; I’m stumped to why this guy poses such a persona. The questions of this other Rob that emerges on occasion is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t ruin tonight. I’m enjoying my time with him too much to spoil it with whatever he does fight on a daily basis.
“This is it?” Car mufflers roar and breaks squeal as we wait in line to pay the fee to get in. Reading the sign that there’s a spectator fee, I reach down for my purse. “Let me,” I begin, but Rob places his hand on my arm and goose bumps shoot up my skin.
“I have you covered.” When I peer up at him, he retracts his hand back as though my skin was on fire. It is, but he doesn’t know that.
I straighten back up in my seat. “Thank you.” Did Rob ask me out on a date? I wrongly assumed this was just a friend thing. My heart skips a beat and butterflies fill my stomach that this was his step. He crossed over and allowed himself to have faith in me.
Shock must fill my face because he chuckles. “I’m not always an asshole.”
“Oh, no . . .” I try to somehow convey to him he isn’t an asshole. I imagine my eyes glossed over with stars bursting out of them from how happy I am that there is something more to us than just attraction.
Thankfully, before I embarrass myself further, he has to pull up to the small red shed with a drive-thru window.
“Hey Wild Card, what’s going on tonight?” A man in his fifties greets Rob while taking the money from Rob’s hand. He leans down to check through the window when he counts the money. “Oh, you got a lady friend with you tonight?”
Rob looks my way and we share a look of amusement. “Yeah, I do.” He faces the guy again.
“I’m hoping to be off to see you race at least once. Last week was just . . . fucking spectacular.” The guy continues priding on Rob. He nods, trying to appear cool and nonchalant, but the small sneak of a smile curling at the edges of his lips signals different. He’s clearly proud of his accomplishments here and he’s made a name for himself. Another side of Rob I’m guessing not a lot of people see.
“Thanks, Jim. See you out there.” Rob shifts his car back into first gear and he’s ready to pull away when Jim places his hand in the car.
“Hold up. FYI, Xavier’s here tonight.” Rob stops the car and tilts his head up to Jim.
“When?” Whoever Xavier is, it’s clear this is not good news to Rob from the scowl across his lips.
“About a half hour ago. The whole group of them.” A loud gruff escapes and his fist slams into the steering wheel. “Hey now. Talk to Dan, he’ll keep you guys separated until you race.” Jim brings out a walkie-talkie and presses the little button. “Dan, Wild Card just arrived.”
A crinkling of static flows through the line and I can’t help but detect the tension encompassing the car now. A deep gruffly voice speaks over the talkie. “Tell him to go around back. Garage four. Tell him eyes forward and don’t start any shit until I get there.”
Jim holds up the walkie-talkie, shrugging his shoulders. Obviously, Dan is the boss from the way he has both men willing to do what he instructs. “Got it. Thanks for the heads up, Jim.”
Rob’s car zooms out of the gate and he roughly slams the brakes. As we wait in traffic to drive wherever Garage four is, he’s touchy on the break and gas, practically giving me whiplash. “Who’s Xavier?” I ask, because I have no filter and I’m a curious being.
“Nobody.” He shakes his head. “Just someone that I don’t get along with. I know, shocker.” His head never spins my way and I stare out the window thinking I shouldn’t have come tonight. “When we get to the garage, I have to talk to Dan, but I’ll be right back. You can wait outside or if you want to, go to the bar and get something to drink.”
I nod. “Okay.” I’m a little uncomfortable about the whole situation.
He reaches over and grabs a hold of my hand. “After that though, I won’t leave you unless I’m racing. I just have to take care of this with Dan first.”
“Oh, I can’t ride with you?” In my mind I was thinking I’d get to experience the thrill he does by just being a passenger.
He shakes his head. “No.” It’s a short word with a lot of punch.
We drive past the lit up strip of pavement with a huge crowd corralled with a gate and a girl excitedly climbs into one of the racing cars, obviously being a passenger. Thinking it might not be the right time for me to argue his rules; I remain quiet, searching the garage doors until number four appears.
The garage door is open and Rob drives right in. A big burly man is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, staring us down as the headlights beam on his body. After he turns off the ignition, he faces my direction. I’m leaning down to grab my purse. “I’m sorry, Paige. If I’d known he was going to be here, I wouldn’t have brought you. I promise this won’t take long.” I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him so sincere. The guilt of him having to desert me is clear in his eyes.
“It’s okay, really. I’m a big girl.” I plaster a smile on my face and he nods.
“So, where will you be?”
“Um . . . the bar?” I shrug my shoulders. I’m not going to stand outside like a moron with the groups of guys and friends all through the area.
“Great. I’ll come and get you.” We each climb out of the car. He never introduces me to Dan, but instead they remain silent until I exit the building.
The door shuts right after I pass under and I gulp, taking in the scene around me. The guy to girl ratio must be ten to one. Sporadic groups of people are huddled around cars as their engines roar to life. As I weave my way through the crowd over to the bar, I see a few guys check out my ass, one even hollering over to me, but I set my eyes on the light-up sign that says Bar. Upon walking in, it’s clear they took a garage and converted it into a bar. Distracting myself while I wait in line, I pull out my phone, noticing I don’t have much of a signal.
Sitting at the bar with a beer in my hands, I take in my surroundings. Guys razz each other about whose car is faster and foreign terms that I assume are car parts are talked about. Competition is at max capacity around here, but there’s a friendly comradery at the same time. Then I spot Rob’s picture on the wall. There’s a corkboard with a variety of snapshots pinned to it. It must have been last weekend when Rob won. He has a trophy in his hands, but not much of a smile. More of a cocky grin, but his face lacks any enthusiasm for winning. Especially with how much he invests into this.
“Xavier!” A girl screams and my eyes follow her direction.
A red-haired guy looks up at her from the table in the back and shakes his head. “Fucking go, Mindy.” He reaches over to grab another beer the waitress just set down.
“Just thought you’d want to know, Wild Card’s here.” Chairs slide out and people begin fleeing the small bar. I watch a creepy smile form on Xavier’s face while he stands up, leaving his beer in place.
“About fucking time. Let’s get this show on the road. Show him the piece of shit he is.” He saunters out, swinging his arm around Mindy’s shoulders.
Knowing I’ll get no information from Rob, I stop a blonde following the masses. “Who’s this Wild Card everyone wants?” This is my time to get answers from the questions I’ve accumulated during my short time here.
She stops, scrunching her eyebrows at me. “He’s the best. The one to beat.”
She begins to bolt but I lightly tug on her elbow. “Who’s the Xavier guy?” I ask and her lips crinkle in annoyance from my questions.
Looking back and forth between the people leaving and me, she stays grounded. “Xavier and Wild Card have history. They don’t like each other. Wild Card disappeared from the scene for years until last year.” She leans in closer, her eyes flitting around. “I heard Xavier just found out Wild Card won last week. He made the trip up here just to beat him and hopefully make him disappear again.” She backs away and I don’t understand all the animosity, but I’m fairly sure this girl doesn’t either. “The feud has been going on for five years or something.” She shrugs and walks out of the bar.
I assume part of this is gossip, but from the reaction at the pay gate to Rob meeting some Dan guy, to now this, there’s a lot more to this story than what the gossip rings know.
Quickly my feet move to catch up to the crowd, but my phone dings. When I stop walking to check it out, it’s from Rob.
Rob: I’m about to race. Watch me from the stands. I’ll be the one in the lead. ;)
More confused than ever, I follow his directions and as soon as I hike my way over to the drag strip, Rob’s engine roars and he’s positioned at the start line. What the hell is going on? Who is Xavier? What’s the beef between them? I came here tonight to figure out answers on Rob when in fact all I have, are more questions.
