by Shealy James
As we made our way to the gates with my heeled boots sinking into the grass, I shot off a text letting Michael know we came in case he wanted to meet up. Lana was too busy looking around at the guys to pay any attention to where we were going or the fact that I was walking like a drunk person on crack trying to survive the mud without ruining my cute boots.
“This is totally not my scene, but there are plenty of distractions floating around here. Look at those tats.” She nodded to a tall bald guy with two full sleeves. He adjusted his crotch right as I looked over. Classy.
We arrived at the gates ready to pay when I saw a tall figure headed our way, and he had a wide smile on his face. It wasn’t the smile that said, “Ladies of the world, drop your panties,” although I was sure he had one of those stashed away for a rainy day. It was a wide smile that told me he was genuinely happy. By the way his eyes were trained on me, I couldn’t help but think he was that happy to see me, and for the record, the toothy grin on my face matched his completely.
“Not involved, my ass,” Lana said under her breath.
My belly was too busy flipping around while my eyes were locked with Michael’s, so I didn’t notice Tony heading toward us as well, at least not until he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me from the ground. I squealed in surprise as he spun me around.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me, Blondie.” He looked me up and down in the perviest kind of way. “Damn, girl. Those boots make me think of…”
“Don’t finish that thought, Moretti!” Michael slapped the back of Tony’s head as he walked past him.
“Shut up, dude. This girl’s here to see me,” he said proudly.
I laughed. “You know it.”
“Really?”
“No again, Tony.”
“Damn.” He frowned dejectedly.
“Lana, this is Tony. Tony, my roommate Lana.” I waved back and forth between them as I spoke, but Tony’s eyes were glued to Lana, and his mouth was wide enough to catch flies.
“Michael, call my mother.”
“Why?”
“She needs to know I met my future wife.”
I burst out laughing, and Michael scratched his jaw with a disbelieving grin on his face. The most interesting part of the whole situation was Lana’s reaction. She smiled, almost sweetly, as if the lame pick-up line flattered her. When I noticed she was into Tony, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Michael pulled me into his side and spoke quietly in my ear, “Is she for real or she about to punch him?”
If for no other reason than to remain close to him, I spoke just as quietly when I said, “I’m not sure yet, but I can’t wait to find out.”
He laughed and squeezed the back of my neck, right where my shoulders meet my spine and where his hand now rested. “Come on. Let’s get back to the track. Joe’s probably wondering where I am, and I’ve only been gone a few minutes.”
I stepped forward with him, and he removed his gentle grip on my neck. I was disappointed until he took my hand in his. As our fingers entwined, I felt the thrill spread through my body. It was a done deal. I liked Sergeant Michael Pearson, and I was totally screwed.
Jameson? Jameson who? Study? What study? I suddenly didn’t care about all the reasons why I shouldn’t like him. I only cared about the sensation of euphoria that I felt walking hand-in-hand with this very sexy man.
“Moretti, quit drooling and bring Lana,” Michael called out over his shoulder without letting go of me.
“Sir, yes sir,” Moretti playfully saluted making Michael tense up then leaned toward Lana to whisper in her ear making her giggle. It was by far the strangest noise I had heard come from her mouth to date.
Michael still seemed off when I turned back from the weird things happening behind us. I squeezed his hand and smiled up at him to remind him that I was right there with him. His lips lifted in response, and I felt him relax. Everything was right in the world again.
Michael
I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds I loved so much. The rumbling of the engines, the squeal of the tires—it was an awesome thing to hear, a kind of music for me. The sky was clear and blue. It was cold, but not even cold enough for me to wear a jacket yet. This was a perfect fall day, and then Sarah showed up. She might as well have been the cherry on top of my race day sundae.
I reluctantly left the girls in the tent with Moretti. Amy was there, so I figured she would keep Sarah entertained while I checked on things with Randy and Joe. Randy was driving a tricked out BMW M3 coupe. Originally, it went from zero-to-sixty in just over six seconds, but we had it down to right under three and a half seconds with some tweaks to the engine and exterior design. There was no way the Audi he was racing against could beat him as long as Randy stayed focused. For one thing, the Audi wasn’t built for it. For another, Sam, the other driver, didn’t have us on his crew.
I kept one eye on the tent at all times. Okay, I kept one eye on Sarah at all times. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. She was magnetic. It was out of my control. So much about her had my attention, and I wasn’t only referring to her appearance, which didn’t hurt one bit. She could have accepted my superficial dalliance and returned the affection by dropping to her knees, but she wasn’t that kind of girl. She was the kind of girl who obviously wanted me but didn’t give me an inch. I briefly considered her resistance was due to her current situation, but more of me realized that Sarah knew she was worth more than what I had to offer. It was new territory, to say the least. It was like she could see the Michael from before the Army, and I had to admit it scared me a little to think that side of myself was still somewhere inside my seemingly empty shell.
The bottom line was that my feelings toward Sarah surprised the hell out me, considering I had been sure I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I enjoyed spending time with her, talking to her. When she cried in my arms, I was happy to hold her. In a way, I liked that I was there for her because it felt good to be needed again. I would be fine being her friend, probably better off in the long run, but I would prefer something more…personal. And that was the biggest shock of all.
I rubbed my hand down my face as soon as that ridiculous thought entered my brain. I knew I didn’t have anything to offer a girl like Sarah, and I wasn’t selfish enough to continue spending time with her when I knew this friendship couldn’t or wouldn’t develop into more. The only friend I had who was a girl was Amy, and originally, she was only around because she was with Phil. I was grateful for that every day, but it didn’t mean I thought it was good idea for me to pursue the kind of relationship they had.
“Mike! Let’s go,” Joe yelled. I walked back over to the car and checked the tires one last time. “You keep drooling over that girl, and you’ll need one of those bibs that Wendy bought for Amy’s baby shower.”
“What do you know, old man? You drool over every hot rod that rolls by us.”
He laughed. “I’ve never claimed to know anything. I’ve been married for thirty-five years and have a thing for old cars. I know nothing. Now, get ready. Randy’s up.”
After going over some last-minute reminders with Randy, he climbed into the car and drove around to the start of the straight track. He pulled up next to the other car, lining up the tires on the white starting line. Samantha stepped out between the cars with the flags to let the drivers and the fans know the race was about to start. She was really for show seeing as the drivers actually used the lights to count down the start of the race. It was tradition to have a hot girl on the track—with hot being the operative word.
Randy was the track hero, so the crowds were all paying attention now. Some of them had waited all day to watch him, even though more famous drivers still had yet to drive. The whole day was more like a car show with some racing thrown in here and there. People came for different reasons, but Randy knew how to work the crowds, so it seemed everyone loved our little show pony.
Once the lights changed, both drivers took off. Randy barely inched ahead in the firs
t five seconds. We had been hoping he’d hit sixty faster, like he had in the practice runs, but Randy’s driving had always been inconsistent at best. Fortunately, he pulled it out right at the end, and the crowd roared in response.
By the time he pulled around to the tent, Joe had given me an earful.
“He should have been able to get to sixty in less than four. He’s too busy trying to give a show than drive. This is why you should drive, Michael. Nobody could beat you and Phil. And I know that Phil can’t help his situation, but you…” And it went on and on like that until we were back under the tent where Randy was pulling in the car.
Moretti and Amy brought the girls over, and they congratulated us kindly. Joe wasn’t having it. “This isn’t something to celebrate. If we had a driver who was worth a damn, that wouldn’t have even been a race.”
Sarah looked at me with her lips pressed together and wide eyes. I shook my head and laughed. “He’s always like this,” I told her quietly.
“Good. I’d hate for him to blow a gasket.” She winked.
“Car humor, huh?”
“Cheesy car humor.” She waved her hands like a queen. “I’m so clever.”
“If you say so.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders without a second thought. Friends could hug. I hugged Amy all the time.
“Whew. You’re never gonna hear the end of this one,” Moretti said as he walked away from Joe, shaking his head.
“Yeah, Randy screwed the pooch on that race. Thankfully he won or Joe would have killed him.”
Moretti shoved my arm. “You should give the old man what he wants and drive one race. We know you can do it if you just-”
He stopped speaking when he realized I was glaring at him with a whole new kind of anger.
“You drive?” Sarah asked curiously. She didn’t look starry-eyed like some girls would, just genuinely curious about my ability to drive a car above street legal speeds.
“Nah.” I shook my head without looking at her.
“He doesn’t even get in cars,” Moretti spouted off, ignoring my ire, and I felt my fist ready to connect with his face. He must have noticed my anger rising beyond controllable levels because he started backing away with his hands automatically up in surrender. He’d better be grateful that I took that damn pill that helped me stay in control. Otherwise, his ass would be on the ground right about now. The fucker knew what he was doing, too. He gave me a stupid-ass smirk and said, “What? She would have found out eventually,” then he wrapped an arm around Lana. “Come on, doll face. Let’s go get some nachos.”
I watched them walk away while counting to a hundred and picturing myself running him over with a car. I was considering climbing in the driver’s seat only to take him out right then.
“You know,” Sarah said bringing my attention back to her, “one of the reasons I always wanted to move to New York was so I didn’t have to drive anymore. Back home, you have to drive twenty minutes to get a loaf of bread. The closest hair salon was over a half hour away, not that anyone wanted to go there.”
“Yeah?” She was trying to make me feel better instead of judging me or asking me questions, and that simple act was what set her apart from other girls. The anger I felt toward Moretti faded as I focused on Sarah again.
“Yeah. Being in a car is some people’s idea of torture.”
You have no idea, I thought as I stared down at her, instantly losing some of the rage that Moretti had fired up. Her purity was staring back at me, causing an unfamiliar stirring in my chest. I grabbed her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s go see if we can find something better than nachos.”
Being the observant girl she was, she took the hint and nodded toward the lot in front of the garage where people were showcasing their Hot Rods. “I saw a sign for cheap beer.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Sarah and I drank beer and shared a pretzel as we looked at the cars on display around the garage. They were toys to these people, their babies, their pride and joy. I got that. It was easy to love a car. Even Sarah loved all the “pretty cars.” Her favorite was a pink Corvette. She said her Barbie dolls used to drive one exactly like it only smaller.
I laughed. “Ken didn’t drive it, did he?” She looked surprised at my knowledge of Barbie. “I have an older sister,” I reminded her.
“Uh-huh,” she said sarcastically. “I pictured you more as a GI Joe kind of guy, but Ken was cool, too. A little metro, but he worked out.”
“He also lacked genitals, but whatever.”
“Not much of a man then,” she added with a sassy wink, and I found myself laughing once again. Usually laughing was reserved for poker nights, and even then, a laugh was more of a barely existent smile. With Sarah, an actual sound came out of my mouth, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried. The odd conversations paired with her sweet accent made the dark cloud move out of the way. It was peculiar to feel the heat of the sun after living in the chill of the shadows for so long. It was like the memories didn’t exist when she was around.
We continued to walk with her, pointing out her favorite colors (anything pink), and I enjoyed checking out the engines (all of them). While it was never supposed to be a date, it felt like one, and it was the best date I’d ever had. I couldn’t help but notice other guys looking at her, even the ones who had models showing their cars. I laughed when I saw an old dude elbow his even older friend to point her out. I gave them a questionable look, and no lie, they both gave me a double thumbs up with their smiles wide and heads bobbing up and down. Old people had no shame.
Sarah
“I’m going with Tony.” Lana winked. “Don’t wait up.”
“I never do,” I sang as she walked, no skipped, over to Tony’s flashy black car. She must plan to leave her car at the track because she had the keys, not that I’d be driving her car in the city anyway. My discomfort with driving in the city reminded me of what Tony had mentioned in the tent. Michael didn’t even sit in cars. I found that a bit disconcerting as both a future psychologist and a woman who felt something for a man.
“I guess you have the apartment to yourself tonight, huh?” Michael asked with a slight grin as he watched Tony grab Lana’s rear as he kissed her right before she dropped to the passenger seat of his car.
“I guess so. Too bad she was my ride.”
He shook his head. “I’ll never understand women.”
“No, you’ll never understand Lana,” I told him. “I’ve lived with her for three years and still don’t have a clue. Of course, this is the most we’ve ever hung out, so that could explain it.”
“How about I take you to dinner then take you home?”
Dinner alone with the hottie soldier? Yes, please! How was it that I was still as boy crazy as ever even after everything with Jameson? It was one of my charming attributes, I guessed. “Sounds like a plan to me. Otherwise I’d have to hitch a ride, and that’s not really my style.”
“It wouldn’t be difficult to find a volunteer. I saw two old men checking you out earlier.”
“Ooh, old guys. You know me so well already. You think the guy who owned the purple car with the yellow flames would take me home?”
Michael pressed his lips together as if he was really considering it, but the humor in his eyes told me what was really going on in that pretty head of his. “Considering that was a ’32 Ford coupe, and he was probably the original owner, I’m sure he’s home in bed.”
I waved him off. “That man couldn’t have been a day over eighty.”
“Then let’s go find him!” Michael held my hand and started walking faster toward the garage.
I could hardly keep up with my boots in the gravel. It didn’t get better on the asphalt, so I finally had to say, “Stop. Too fast. These boots were made for strolling, not power walking.”
“If we don’t hurry, you won’t catch your man before he leaves,” he said with a straight face.
“Oh, well. I’ll have to take my chances on the
back of your bike then.”
“Now you’re talking.” He led me to his bike, which he’d parked in the first spot in the garage where his friends Phil and Amy were talking to Joe and the driver Randy.
“You two heading out?” Phil asked.
“Yeah.” Michael nodded. “Heading to the diner if you wanna go.”
Phil turned his chair to face Amy with a look of question on his face. “Sure. I could go for a double cheeseburger and fries. Mmmm,” she hummed as she rubbed her protruding belly.
“What? No milkshake?” Phil asked then backed away before she could hit him.
“You laugh, but I’m pushing out your giant baby. Just remember that.”
Phil pressed his lips together like a recalcitrant schoolboy who was just introduced to the paddle. “Sorry, baby. You can get two milkshakes, and I’ll rub your feet later.”
“That’s more like it. Yeah, we’ll go.” And just like that, our dinner was no longer a date. All day he had been holding my hand and flirting, but I didn’t know why I had been hoping for more. He hadn’t even attempted to touch more than my hand or the small of my back. There were moments though when I thought he wanted to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. I was throwing in the towel after today. Technically, he was no longer part of the study, and I couldn’t do anything to prevent myself from getting lost in him.
So, I kept hoping he’d give in every time he gave me the kissy-kissy face. You know what I was talking about, the hooded eyes and serious expression that said, “I’m about to make you mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Unfortunately, he refrained from kissing me, and we continued to walk around like we were friends rather than confronting what was going on between us.
While I enjoyed spending time with Amy and Phil, I couldn’t wait to get home. The night had taken a strange turn. Michael was oddly quiet through dinner, so I felt like I had to work overtime to joke with Amy and Phil to make this dinner less uncomfortable for me. By the time the server delivered our drinks to the table, I was already exhausted.
Amy and I ran to the little girls’ room once we had ordered our food. It was a typical girls’ trip to the restroom, a little tinkle and a lot of gossip. We stood together washing our hands when she looked at me in the mirror. “He doesn’t date, you know.”