Had the player stopped playing?
I tried another search engine, sure I'd find something. I'd been following news on Axel ever since he started racing professionally, and there were always pictures of him with his dates. But today? Nothing.
Was it possible that my comments to Axel had changed him?
I'd had the television on mute while I browsed online, and when I saw that the race coverage was starting, I put my laptop down and turned up the TV's volume.
Because it was the first race of the season, there were several interviews and commentator reports prior to the race. When they got to Axel's team, I realized I'd been holding my breath. In a pre-taped segment, the reporter talked with him in the garage sometime after qualifications. Axel was wearing his uniform, and he looked so damn sexy. I experienced a sharp twinge of regret. I'd kissed that gorgeous man. I'd felt his arousal pressing against me, and I could've had more. Suddenly I wished I had gone ahead and had a fling with him, heart be damned. Because I knew deep down it probably would've been worth it.
I sank back in my chair and exhaled, then sat forward again to focus on the interview. There was all the usual stuff about how practice had been going, how fast the track was, and how well Axel expected to do today. Then the interviewer changed tone, and told Axel that there was "talk about you getting more serious and being more focused than ever on racing." It seemed an innocent comment, but it also seemed weighted in something more, and I wondered if it referred to the sudden lack of gossip news. Axel definitely had a reputation in that area, and his big female fan base was frequently referred to, if only in a roundabout way.
Axel himself seemed to become more serious and thoughtful when answering. He said that a couple of people who were very close to him had caused him to reexamine his priorities, and that he "had some things to still work out" but that he was "moving in a forward direction."
I rewound the broadcast several times to take in his response. Was I crazy to think he was referring to me and our conversation? Had I possibly affected him that much? I'd dismissed his phone and email messages as him being overly persistent or playing games, but he wouldn't be on TV talking about life changes if it was all a game to him, would he? Or, maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe I was hoping for something that wasn't there.
At a commercial, I caught the recording up to the live broadcast, and saw that the race was about to start. The drivers were lined up, and I found Axel's green #27 in the third row. I silently wished him luck and a safe race, and then turned up the volume for my favorite part.
A signal was given, and the engines roared to life. It wasn't quite as exciting in my living room as it was to experience in person, but it still gave me chills, and this time, with Axel's touch so fresh in my mind, the power of the engines aroused other parts of my body as well. Racing was such a sexy sport: the sleek curves of the cars, the drivers in their uniforms, the raw determination, the speed.
The cars started into their pace laps, then the green flag was waved and they were flying around the track, vying for position. It was an exciting race, and a couple of hours later it was over, with Axel edging out another driver in a close finish to take third place. Though I'm sure he was disappointed not to come in first, he looked pleased with his finish and I knew it would set him up well for the rest of the season. I was so happy to see Axel in the winner's circle, and I wished I was there with him to throw my arms around him in celebration. I was both surprised and frustrated by this impulse.
* * *
The next morning, still a swirling ball of emotion after watching the race and seeing Axel's intriguing pre-race comments, I received a handwritten letter in the morning mail at work. My stomach fluttered as I got a few lines in.
Dear Kayla,
Please read this. I don't know if you've gotten my other messages or if you're still upset, but I have two things I need to tell you, and then I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want.
First, I want you to know that you've changed me. The words that you said, and even more, the way you looked at me in the bar that night, set me on a path of soul searching. I realize that I've been afraid, and I've been limiting myself. Since you opened my eyes, I've been working on making changes in my outlook on life. Thank you for that.
The other thing I need you to know is that I can't stop thinking about you. Please keep reading, Kayla. I know this may be hard for you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I truly feel that we can be good together. We can be great. I know who you are as a person, and you seem to have a better understanding of me than I have of myself. If you would be willing to take a risk, I think we deserve a chance to get to know each other even better, and to see where things can go. I'm ready to have an open heart. Can you do the same?
Yours,
Axel
My eyes were filled with tears when I finished reading. It was like a dream. Axel wanted me. He wanted to have a relationship with me. Even though I believed him and his intentions, getting closer to him still felt like a risk. But if I didn't take a risk, wouldn't I be guilty of the same limiting behavior I'd accused him of?
I knew I'd respond to him, but I needed time. I wanted to have a cool head, and I wanted to give him a thoughtful response.
I went about my day the best I could, considering that my head was off somewhere in the clouds, and my heart was beating much faster than usual. While I managed to get some work done, I ran through options in the back of my mind. I couldn't imagine responding to Axel by email; that seemed too impersonal. And I didn't know what I would say to him in a phone call. He was in the midst of his racing season, and who knew where he'd be and what he'd be doing when I managed to reach him.
I decided that I needed to see him in person. I needed to be able to look into his eyes when I spoke to him, and I needed to be able to reach out and touch him. I knew he'd be heading to the location of his next race, and it was only a short plane ride away from me.
I made plans to take a few days off of work, and the more I thought about it, I decided it would be best to make contact with Axel after the next race. Prior to the event, there would be practices and time trials, and I didn't want to distract him. I managed to buy a ticket to the race online, and I arranged for a press pass. I would attend as an anonymous spectator, then use the pass to find Axel when the race was over and, with luck, share in his victory celebration like I'd wanted to do when watching his win on TV.
I felt like I'd be walking on clouds until that day.
Chapter Eleven - Cold, Hard and Empty
Axel
Reporters wanted to talk about the new focus I had this year. There was some truth to it, but in reality I was struggling to retain focus.
I'd done all I could. I had poured my heart out to Kayla in a final attempt to get through to her, and now all I could do was wait. But I was losing hope with each day that passed. I checked my email and voicemail too frequently, and there was nothing. Maybe I would never hear from her. I needed to come to terms with that possibility.
I traveled with the team to the next city on the schedule, where I threw myself into practice and preparations with as much concentration as I could manage. Enrique Velasquez, who I'd just barely edged out for third last week, was talking shit about me, and though I thought he was being childish, at least it gave me something to think about besides Kayla.
A few days after arriving, my manager brought a bundle of mail for me that had been forwarded from our main office. A large envelope from Kayla's magazine was in the stack, and of course I opened it first. I was hopeful as I tore into it, but all that it contained were two copies of the magazine and a post-it note saying, "Thanks for the interview. –Kayla"
A cold, hard, empty feeling came over me. Was this how she responded to my letter? I flipped through the copies and even shook them, holding them by their bindings and hoping some longer note would fall out, even though I knew that was not going to happen. I had bared my soul to her, poured my heart out, told h
er how she'd changed me, and I got a cold, professional "thanks" in reply? Unbelievable. Maybe she wasn't the person I thought she was.
I sat down and read through the article Kayla had written. Anger burned in me, though there was nothing objectionable in her piece. Actually, what I was feeling was more like disappointment and bitterness about the situation and Kayla's response, and anger at myself for obviously misjudging her and her feelings toward me.
In a fortunate coincidence of timing, I had a practice session scheduled for the afternoon. It was time to lay my anger down on the track and leave any thoughts of Kayla in my dust.
Chapter Twelve - Racing
Kayla
I flew in on Saturday and was excited to find out that while I'd been in the air, Axel had won the pole position in the time trials! He'd be leading the pack in the next day's race, and all of the racing news was buzzing with his name. He was suddenly the driver to beat, and I couldn't have been happier for him.
I was nervous about seeing him, but I was also hopeful and determined. I thought about what I might say to him, but I soon decided it was impossible to plan and I knew I'd have to just say what was in my heart.
On Sunday, I had to hold myself back. I wanted to rush to the track, but I knew getting there earlier wouldn't help me see Axel any sooner, and I didn't want to be tempted to use my press pass to try to find him before the race. I reminded myself that seeing him after was going to be worth the wait.
Finally, I headed out, took a cab to the track, did a lot of walking, and got to my seat with half an hour to spare. I'd been to this track once before. The first year Axel raced Indycars, I quietly attended two races. A friend went with me to one, but I didn't tell my mother, and of course I wasn't in touch with Axel then. I was thankful for my familiarity with this venue, and for my great luck in getting the last minute ticket. My seat wasn't far from the tunnel that led to the infield, and my plan was to make my way there during the final few laps of the race, regardless of how Axel placed.
From my seat, I could see Axel's car lined up for the start. I couldn't see it well, but the green was unmistakable, and I watched him climb into the cockpit, though I couldn't make out his features before he put his helmet on.
Then the engines were growling and revving, and I felt like I was melting into a puddle. This sound had somehow become linked to the memory of Axel pressed against me, kissing me, and today, knowing, hoping, that I'd be experiencing that again soon was almost overwhelming.
I don't think I could've been more excited if I'd been out on the track, climbing into one of the turbocharged machines, about to fly around the oval at 200 miles per hour. I was screaming inside my head, "Go, Axel!" My stepbrother, my lifelong crush, was about to race, and it always seemed a little unbelievable to me, even though I'd seen him do it before. He'd come so far from dirt bikes, and I was proud of him.
Soon the cars started rolling toward me. They weren't going fast yet; a pace car led them around for two parade laps before the official start. I watched Axel drive by in the lead spot and sent out a silent wish that he'd continue to hold that spot and win. Two rows back, I noticed Enrique Velasquez's bright orange car. According to the news, a fierce rivalry had sprung up since the last race. I didn't know how much of the talk was true and how much was media hype, but I was sure Velasquez would be jockeying for a better position, as would all of the cars behind Axel.
The drivers went by for one more pace lap and you could both see and feel their impatience. It mirrored mine. I was eager for Axel to win, and eager to celebrate with him after.
Then I saw the green flag waving, and the cars came flying by. Axel pulled out ahead of the pack and I jumped up and cheered.
It was an exciting race right from the start. There were several big moves by other drivers, but Axel managed to maintain his lead until his first pit stop. I couldn't see the pits from my seat, and I got nervous when the cars came around and Axel wasn't with them, even though I knew it was about time for him to make a stop for refueling and tire changes. A man behind me was live streaming race coverage on his phone, and I leaned back to overhear confirmation; Axel was refueling. As the commentator speculated about when other lead drivers would make their stops, I saw green #27 fly by me, and I released the breath I'd been holding in.
Axel regained his lead when other drivers made their stops, but somehow Velasquez had made big gains, and soon he was right on Axel's tail as the two cars flew by me. They were neck and neck for two more laps, and then, when I was expecting them again, they didn't come around. I squinted down the track, trying to catch sight of them, but saw nothing. Soon after, I saw a yellow flag waving. Sometimes the yellow caution flag can mean there is debris on the track, and the drivers need to go slow until it's cleared, but with Axel's absence, and the fact that he shouldn't be in need of another pit stop yet, I immediately assumed the worst: an accident.
I didn't bother eavesdropping this time; I turned fully around and tugged on the knee of the man watching the broadcast. "What's happened to Beckers?"
The man glanced at me, then back at his phone. Only seconds passed, but it felt like hours, as I stared desperately at him, watching his face for an indication of what had happened. The crowd had gotten loud and I couldn't hear the commentator on the broadcast. Finally he answered, "Accident," and turned his phone's screen toward me. I went completely cold, my heart dropping into my stomach, when I saw a replay of spinning orange and sliding green.
I was up before I saw any more. I hastily excused myself as I bumped past others in my row and raced down toward the tunnel that would take me to the infield. I flashed my press pass, so grateful that I'd planned ahead to get it, even though this was not how or why I'd envisioned myself using it.
There were people everywhere. When I realized I had no idea where to go, I found a security guard and asked him where I could find the medical center. Then I weaved in and out of the crowd and moved quickly in the direction he'd indicated. I wasn't sure if Axel would still be onsite or if he'd have been taken to a hospital. I'd seen a few terrible accidents while watching races, and I'd heard about many others, even fatal ones. I knew the cars were equipped with safety features, but at two hundred miles per hour… anything could happen.
There were more guards at the medical center, and a buzz of activity. It looked like something important was happening inside; crowds were thick where they were permitted. I pushed my way through toward the building's entrance. I knew my press pass wouldn't work here, and was glad I had another card to play.
I yelled out to the guard by the door, "Is Axel Beckers inside? I need to see him. I'm his sister. Stepsister," I amended.
The guard stepped closer and I repeated my request. He asked for my name and then communicated with someone through a two-way radio. I had no idea if this was going to work, and along with my silent prayers that Axel was okay, I added a request that I be allowed in to see him.
After several long minutes, the guard received notice, waved me toward him, and opened the door for me. "End of the hall. Make a right," he said, before he stepped back out.
There was also a buzz of activity inside the medical center, though it was much quieter and calmer. I hurried down the hall, afraid of what I'd be seeing, but reassured by the fact that I'd been let in, and that Axel was here and not already in an ambulance being taken away.
There were a few people clustered at the end of the hall, and they moved aside as I approached. I looked to the right and saw Axel on an exam table. Two medics were attending to him, but after a quick glance, he appeared to be okay. He was conscious, sitting upright, and the parts of his body I could see appeared unharmed. And he was staring right at me in disbelief.
I wanted to run to him and embrace him, but there was a woman crouched in front of him examining his legs and a man next to him listening to his heart.
"Axel, are you okay?" I was breathless.
"Kayla? What are you doing here?"
I just shook my head. I had to
fight back tears that came with the rush of relief at seeing him alive and seemingly well. I looked down at the medic checking his legs. She was pressing at spots on his feet and gently rotating his ankle. His calves were bare where his uniform had been cut away. Nothing looked broken or bleeding but she was doing a thorough check.
"What happened?" I asked.
Axel started to speak but the doctor at his side interrupted him. "We should be done checking you out in a few minutes. Everything's looking good so far."
"I'm fine," Axel said, his tone quick with impatience.
The doctor turned to me. "If you could wait in the hall, we'll finish up with him and then you can talk."
As I turned, Axel called my name. "Kayla, don't leave."
I smiled at him and shook my head. "I won't. I promise."
* * *
The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. Axel and I were never alone, so we didn't talk about us, though his eyes were full of questions every time he looked at me. I found out what had happened on the track — Velasquez had tried to pass Axel but cut him off and ended up in a spin. Axel swerved to avoid hitting him, lost control and veered off into the infield. Luckily neither of them were hurt badly, and both had walked away from the accident.
Axel was pissed, and I sensed that he'd have been much angrier if he wasn't distracted by my presence. I did my best to fade into the background though, as he attended team meetings, interviews, and other debriefings. He checked in with me when he could, and asked me if I would have dinner with him when it was all over. We made plans for him to drive me back to my hotel first so that I could shower and change.
SPEED: A Stepbrother Romance Page 5