Fearless

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Fearless Page 17

by Katie Golding


  Sophie sputtered. “I’d rather delete my entire Instagram of Natalie Dormer pics before I went anywhere near what’s between the Ice Queen’s legs.”

  I leaned forward, suspicions more than confirmed. “Sure you would.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were tinting a little darker as she waved a hand in front of her face. “Whatever. I’m off. Cowboy Billy, it was lovely to have met you. Even if your girlfriend is a posh tosser.”

  I gasped playfully, but Billy was a perfect gentleman as always. “Very nice to meet you, Miss Sophie.”

  “Ugh.” Sophie got up from her seat. “They need to clone him. Twice. And make the second one a woman. Yeah, that ought to do it. Cheers!”

  I snorted, watching her walk away and absently teasing my nails along the defined lines in Billy’s back, my cheek resting on his sturdy arm. He felt as stable as home, like nothing bad could ever happen as long as he was around; he made me laugh too much for the monsters to be real.

  “So that’s Sophie.” He peeked at me, his eyes full of the stories I’d told him about our years racing together.

  I nodded. “That’s Sophie. And thank you again for flying out here with me.”

  “There somewhere else you think I’d rather be?”

  “I just… You don’t get to be home much, not as much as I do anyway. And you’re spending one of your weeks off to be here with me, and I…want you to know I appreciate it.”

  Billy’s smile deepened, his voice lowering privately. “Taryn, I don’t think I can take much more of your appreciation without an IV to keep me hydrated. Honey, it’s fine.”

  Heat flamed my neck, and I knew he’d said it was okay a dozen times already. But I still felt bad about being so selfish with him. I didn’t want to share Billy with anyone. Least of all his ever-attention-demanding brother.

  I was starting to get really attached to being alone together, especially for longer than a few hours at a time. Billy and I had been glued at the hip for days now—except when I was practicing or racing—but him traveling with me, staying together in my RV, and keeping me company in my pit box and on the paddock…it had all started making so much sense.

  How easy it could be to love him. Not just infatuatedly but committedly after the newness and the goose bumps and the giggles wore off. The peace from knowing it would be his arms that would cradle me in my weak moments, strong enough to protect me and gentle enough to comfort me.

  I trusted Billy implicitly. And it was getting to the point that no matter where we were or what we were doing, somewhere in the back of my heart, a part of me was already on a ranch in a someday. My palms teasing the tops of tall grass as I walked in forever fields, Billy mending wire fences in the distance, and our horses roaming together.

  Billy took a sip from his water bottle, nudging me a bit and pulling me from my fantasy. A grin was teasing the corner of his lips as the California sun glistened off his arms, golden and rippling with untapped strength. “Something you wanna share?”

  I sighed, shaking my head and not finding big enough words. Not when he was in every vision of my future and not when I couldn’t wait to start it all. Full throttle, forget the brakes, and with the endless sky above promising us forever. “Fucking crazy about you.”

  Billy chuckled, picking a piece of chicken off my plate. “See, to me? That sounds crazy.”

  Whatever. He was always terrible at taking compliments, the ones that mattered anyway. I let him go so I could pick up the last of my garlic chicken lettuce wrap and take a bite. Which was just another item in the endless list of things I had to give Billy credit for: never once had he glutened me, accidentally or otherwise.

  He glanced over, a satisfied smile teasing his lips and nearly glowing in the sunshine. “Good?”

  I nodded as I shoveled the last of my lettuce wrap in my mouth, wiggling happily over my lunch and gorging on tangy chicken bursting with flavor, water chestnuts, and crunchy sprouts, and God, I loved him. I had no idea where he even found this. “Mm-hmm.”

  “Good,” he repeated, taking another sip of his water.

  Then the worst happened—one of the monsters found me.

  “Tear-tear-Taryn it up,” the voice I hated most in the world called out.

  Fuck, here we go.

  I hurried to finish chewing, wiping my mouth with a napkin. Billy’s brow scrunched up, his eyes flicking behind us. But there was no time to explain. Not two seconds later, Colton was next to me, leaning onto the table with his face way too close to mine.

  “Hey, sweetheart, whatcha eating? Aww, salad again?” He looked over my head in Billy’s direction. “She’s a vegetarian. Isn’t she cute?”

  “I’m not a vegetarian,” I snapped at Colton, irritation taking over any and all rationality.

  Confusion was plain in his big brainless eyes, that cheap cologne he wore rolling off him in waves that threatened to upend my lunch. “Then what’s with all the salads?”

  What a dipshit. And it’s not like I expected him to know the finer details of my life, but we’d been teammates for two years. I was fully and completely aware of his peanut allergy. “I can’t eat gluten.”

  “Exactly.” He gestured my way. “Vegetarian.”

  I thought my head was gonna explode. “Oh my God, that is not what that means.”

  “Oh excuse me, Miss ‘I have a degree so I’m better than everyone else.’”

  I gaped at him. “I do not think that!”

  Billy clapped his hands behind me—once, loud and hard—and it startled me to freaking death. I’d actually forgotten he was sitting there for a second.

  I whipped around to assess the damage, sure he was going to be furious about Colton calling me sweetheart and all the dick swinging going on. But Billy didn’t look pissed. He looked impressed as he stood up, walking around behind me to poke Colton in the chest. “You’re Colton Froggenbrains!”

  Oh holy hell, he did not just—

  “Freitag-Brahns,” Colton bit out.

  “Oh man, I’ve been a big fan of yours ever since you started racing! It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” Billy grinned and reached out to shake Colton’s hand, the latter looking at me a little more smug than confused now, but I was firmly convinced I’d been transported to an alternate universe.

  What the hell was Billy doing fawning all over his…competition?

  “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” Colton winked at me, and I nearly threw up on him again.

  “Man,” Billy said with a chuckle, not releasing Colton’s hand as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Your win last year in Portugal was a thing of beauty, especially considering the odds the bookies had stacked against you heading off the grid. And you know, you really did get the short end of the stick in Rimini. I felt for you, man. No one wants to go out that way.”

  Colton’s face twitched, and I nearly choked with the realization of what was going on.

  Billy knew.

  He knew everything.

  “So tell me, friend to fan…” Billy checked around and then lowered his voice like he was whispering a secret. “That slide you had in Argentina two years ago, when you came around turn eighteen in second gear and then you wiped out in turn nineteen—was it really a cold tire like you said? Because my little brother, he swears he saw the transmission on your OnBoard drop into first gear instead of popping up into third like it should’ve. But I told him that couldn’t have been right, because no way you’d chicken out like that.”

  If someone had bumped me, I would’ve shattered.

  Colton’s neck and whole freaking face were turning red like he was enraged, but Billy was still grinning away like the dopiest devotee in Colton’s fan club.

  “You know,” Colton growled, “I don’t think I caught your name, friend.”

  Billy looked at me. “Oh my goodness, where are my manners?” T
hen he looked back to Colton, holding his hand out again. “Billy King, Yaalon Moto. Nice to meet you.”

  Colton didn’t shake Billy’s hand the second time. His eyes flipped to me, screaming a thousand things I was sure I’d hear later during our photo shoot. Fine. Let him bring it on. This was worth every second of it. “The MotoPro racer,” he gritted out.

  “Yup,” I popped, pride tingling down my spine and radiating through my whole body as I sat up straight and crossed my arms. “That’s the one.”

  “Anyway, I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time.” Billy clapped Colton on the back hard enough to nudge him a bit. “I know y’all got a lot of prep work to do. Ma’am.” Billy tipped his hat my way, then turned and walked off, whistling calmly toward pit lane.

  I sputtered out a noise, sure I was gonna die from heart palpitations. He just walked off! He didn’t kiss me or call me honey, imply he’d see me later, or say anything about us being together.

  No claiming, no jealousy.

  No fear.

  Colton scoffed. “What an idiot,” he sneered.

  But I was worlds more aware than my teammate, and I shook my head slowly, beaming at Billy’s back. “Nope. That’s a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  If only I could’ve said the same for myself.

  * * *

  Little less than an hour later, Colton and I were still trading barbs. But this time, he had the pleasure of watching me squirm as he smeared his hands all over me in the press room.

  “Back the fuck off,” I hissed, leaning farther away from him as he palmed my lower back and I pushed harder at his chest. Even worse, I was being forced to fucking smile as that creep’s hands crept closer to my ass, and all while knowing Billy was somewhere on the paddock.

  “Not a chance,” Colton breathed, tugging me even closer, and oh my God, was he hard?

  “What is the problem now?” the photographer complained. “The girl looks constipated.”

  “Taryn,” Sheldon whined through gum smacks. “Could you be a little less constipated, baby girl?”

  My stomach roiled as my lower jaw started quivering, and a cold sweat of panic broke out across my skin—the telltale signs I was moments away from vomiting. Again. But this wasn’t gluten wrecking my system; it was them.

  “Actually, you know what? Let’s, uh, try a new pose. Why don’t you turn around and stand in front of Colton?” Sheldon knocked the photographer’s chest. “Girl’s got an ass that could sell satanism to a Baptist.”

  A thousand tiny comments he’d made in the past flashed through my head. And under the endless echo of baby girl spawned some kind of turbo rage that burned away the nausea swirling in my veins and replaced it with a bitter indignation that made me feel invincible. A Lorelai “Wreckless” Hargrove kind of invincible—she’d never put up with this shit. And she was right: I didn’t have to, either.

  No one should.

  “That’s it!” I shoved Colton off me for good, satisfaction blazing out of me as I watched him fall off the fake podium they had us standing on to land directly on his ass.

  “Ow, you bitch!”

  I flipped him off. With both hands. Shaking them in his face and roaring at him like a rabid fiend. I’d fucking had it.

  I didn’t care what Werner was going to do, gawking at me from the corner with a sandwich in his hand and a bite half-chewed in his mouth. I couldn’t care how disappointed Mike was going to be: standing dutifully on the sidelines, arms crossed over his Santa stomach, security badge tangled in his beard, and his jaw on the floor.

  I stormed off the podium, straight up to Sheldon, and I punched him right in his goddamn gum-chewing face.

  The crack of my fist against his jaw was louder than I’d expected, my hand exploding in pain as he stumbled. Fell. Then he started scrambling backward like the coward he was as I stalked forward.

  “You’re fired!” I spat at him, my voice starting to break from the tears threatening my eyes.

  Holy crap, my hand hurts!

  Sheldon gaped up at me, hands clasped over the bottom half of his face and his eyes wild. “Fuck you! You can’t fire me!”

  I didn’t know if he was right. But it didn’t matter anymore. I looked over at Werner, exhausted and exhilarated and completely heartbroken.

  I’d given racing everything I had—years spent sacrificing my body, my pride to the curves of racetracks that only crave the taste of your leathers, to speed that tests the strength of your bones. Crashing my way through a calling until the fans were calling my name, a gorgeous mistress no one believed I could want. The surprise career after a lifetime of playing it safe and the bluff I called on destiny.

  But no matter how much I loved it, it was still just a job, and I could find another. Another team, another sport if I had to. I had a degree, a supportive family, and I had Billy. I had options, and I didn’t need…this!

  I stared down Mike and Werner, the two men who had always believed in me and dared to see me as fast when everyone else had only seen a face.

  That time, my voice did break. “I quit.”

  The collective gasp seemed to suck the air from the room. Without another look at Mike or Colton or any of them, I turned for the door.

  God, how was I going to explain this? To Sophie and Billy and just…everyone?

  I didn’t make it three steps before a hand landed on my arm.

  “Taryn, please, let us talk this over!” Werner’s eyes were panicked, rooting me in place as I choked back regret-filled tears. He looked over his shoulder, pointing toward Sheldon still lying on the floor and clutching at his face. “Someone, remove him,” Werner barked. Then he turned back toward me, swallowing thickly. “Taryn,” he said, a smile growing in the corner of his mouth and lighting up his eyes. “I am so proud and thankful you just did that!”

  A rush of air swept from my lungs. There was no way I heard him right. “You are?”

  “Yes!” he cried out, looking a lot more like the giddy executive who showed up in person to sign me. “We…MMW has always wanted you to be able to express yourself exactly as you wish. We believe in you. But we—I—hired Sheldon because I thought having an American publicist would help make you more comfortable while traveling abroad.” He dropped his head into his hand, pinching at his eyes and muttering sharply at himself in German. When he looked up, he looked like he’d never felt so bad in his life. “I have made a horrible error in judgment, and I hope you can forgive me, Taryn. Had I known you were unhappy, I never would have allowed him to stay. And I should have known. I should have realized.” His jaw locked as he glanced back to where Sheldon had been only minutes before. “Please,” Werner said, his voice strained as he looked at me, “do not quit now. Do not let him win. Let me try to fix my mistake.”

  I was too overwhelmed, too shocked by what I had done and all that had happened in the last few minutes…but damn it, he had a point. Fuck Sheldon.

  I looked over at Mike, his eyes pleading with me not to make the hasty decision I wanted: to let Billy fly me home to Memphis and start a life together with a far less complicated schedule and forget that once upon a time, I’d been a motorcycle racer, too.

  But as upset as I was, I knew Mike and Werner were right, and running wasn’t the answer. No matter how good and simple and easy and wonderful it sounded. I couldn’t let people like Sheldon or Colton win.

  “Fine,” I agreed. “I’ll stay. But some things are going to change. Starting now.”

  * * *

  Billy beamed up at me from my bed in my RV, naked as could be while I straddled his lap. His palms lazily caressed their way up my thighs as I danced my fingers down his chest, enjoying the exquisite view of perfect muscles and soft, tan skin. Everything in my body was still so wonderfully fuzzy from post-orgasmic bliss: a tribute to the attention he’d lavished on me after such a stressful day. “Show m
e again,” he said, a devilish smirk to his lips.

  “Seriously? Again?” We’d done this, like, four times already.

  “Please?”

  I sighed dramatically, but I was having a harder time than ever shutting down my smile. “I think someone has a secret masochistic fetish, and if need be, I’m open to discussing the implementation of handcuffs in our sex life.”

  Billy snorted, the movement doing something delicious between us. “I’m just proud, honey, and you should be, too.”

  “Fine,” I muttered, but I still smirked and closed my fingers into a fist, playing like I was punching him in the chin. “Take that!”

  “Agh!” Billy fluttered his eyes, falling against the headboard in a really terrible impression of being knocked out.

  I couldn’t help giggling as I captured his jaw in my palms and leaned down to kiss him again. Each squeeze of his hands on my hips and smoothing up my back threatened to reduce me to a puddle of limbs that was his to play with, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

  Billy always played so nicely. And totally in my favor.

  “You are so corny.”

  “Yeah?” he mumbled, his voice thick as he brushed my hair from my face. My cheeks were cradled in his hands, my forehead leaned to his. “I may be corny. But you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

  Beautiful.

  It felt as though he’d dumped a bucket of ice water on my bare naked body. I sat up immediately, scoffing at him. After everything that had happened that day, that was what he chose to say? Not sweet or smart or a good racer or…

  And the fact that he knew better than to be surprised, so he was making that face where he was dripping with stubbornness about it…

  I got off his lap and left the bed.

  Billy sighed, the sheets rustling behind me as he covered himself up. “Taryn—”

  “No.” I grabbed the nearest clothes off the floor, pulling up a pair of green boxer shorts that were clearly Billy’s and not the pajamas shorts I thought I’d seen, but whatever. I tugged a shirt over my head, fighting to get my hair out of the collar. Then I turned toward him, hugging my arms over my chest because my nipples were still hard. Stupid nipples. “I already told you a million times: I hate it when you say that.”

 

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