by Nicole Dykes
There, that was completely honest.
I feel his head nodding and then my stomach twists into a million knots when he asks, “So, it was just talking right? The other night.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. You know those moments that you just know in your heart can affect the rest of your life? This is one of them. I feel it deep down inside. If I tell him what really happened he may not give us a chance. I can’t risk that, but if he finds out I lied? It’ll be the end of us for sure. “Right.”
He nods seemingly satisfied by my answer. He then uses one arm to pull me onto his lap and looks so happy in that moment. “Good, because the thought of someone else touching you makes me slightly homicidal.”
I laugh nervously and then touch my lips to his. “I find that kinda hot.”
He laughs and then kisses me. It’s a damn good kiss, one that could make a girl forget her name.
Chris and I get along. He’s a good man who turns me on and knows how to treat a woman right.
I can make this work. I have to.
Chapter 22
Shriller
T
he first couple of days back in California were rough, I admit. I was at war with myself, trying to not hop on a plane and profess my love for Alex. In the end, I finally convinced myself that’s not what she wants.
She’s right. She and I would be explosive, and it would probably end in disaster, even worse than last time.
So, I stayed put. I called Joel yesterday to let him know I was back, and he booked me a cover and interview about my progress with a top-rated racing magazine.
After my meeting, I park my car in my driveway with the intention of washing it this evening when I see Amy at my front door.
Fuck! I called her and left a voicemail right before I headed to Kansas, letting her know I would be out of town. Words can't describe how glad I was when I got her voicemail and didn’t have to deal with her crazy ass that day.
I expected frantic, insane calls while I was out of town, but there wasn’t one. I guess I was going to have to face her at some point. I lock my car doors and walk to the front door of my house where it seems Amy has just given up on me answering the door. She pivots on my porch and starts to walk down the stairs when she sees me and waves awkwardly. “Hey.”
I nod a hello. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“Joel told me you were back in town, so I thought I would stop by. I don’t blame you for avoiding me, though.”
I walk a little closer to her. “I had to go out of town for a bit. Wasn’t avoiding you.”
She smiles and bends down to take a seat on one of the wooden porch steps. “I wouldn’t blame you at all after the way I acted. I mean, I actually threatened you.”
She seems honestly horrified by her behavior, so I take a seat next to her. “It wasn’t the first time and probably won’t be the last I was threatened by a chick that I slept with.”
She laughs at that and says mid-laugh, “Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?”
“Better.”
“It was just a really hard day for me, and there you were all hot and nice. So, I did what I always do.”
“What’s that?” I inquire, curious.
“Jump right into bed with a guy who doesn’t really care about me.”
Ouch. “Amy. I like you, it’s just….”
“Oh, please don’t.” She holds her hand up and cuts me off. “It’s sort of a problem I have.” I raise a questioning eyebrow and she laughs. “And now you think I’m a sex addict or something.”
“I don’t judge.”
“I’m not, for the record. But I do have a habit of sleeping with the wrong men. Guess I’m just looking for something that I know I’ll never find with anyone else. Kinda stuck on someone from my past.”
Her eyes widen and she stretches her legs out in front of her, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, like always. “Anyway, now that I've given away way too much information about myself, if you want to fire me, I understand. I won’t sue you and I’m pretty sure that would hurt my reputation far worse than yours. And honestly, I’m not sure you need physical therapy anymore.”
“I’m not firing you. You’re damn good at your job and I need to get back on track after my vacation. Besides, I think we are in the same boat. I’m kinda stuck on someone too.”
Amy isn’t just a physical therapist she’s also a trainer, skilled in whipping people into shape. She shakes her head, “Well you look good to me, but I’m happy to keep working with you.”
“Good. Wanna start now?”
“Absolutely.”
We stand up, and I take her hand to help her up. When we get down to the gym in my basement she turns to me, “Joel says you haven’t contacted Mitch, yet?”
I lay flat on the weight bench and lift the barbell in the air. “Not yet.”
“You should really use his expertise. The physical part of getting back out there is a piece of cake compared to the mental part. He can help you, trust me.”
I rest and turn to look at her. “You know him?”
She laughs, but it’s more sad than happy. “You could say that. He was my father-in-law for a little while.”
I stare at her stunned. “What? Which Adamson brother were you married to?”
“Chris.”
I’m really fucking glad I wasn’t lifting at the time of her answer or I’m pretty sure I would have dropped it on my neck. I sit up. “Chris? You were married to Chris. Like actually married?”
She raises an eyebrow at me, and it’s her turn to think I’m crazy. “How do you know Chris? He isn’t into racing.”
I nod my head still in shock. “Yeah, I know. He does tattoos.” I run my fingers through my hair as I try to process this, “And my friend, Alex.”
Her face noticeably saddens and I feel like a dick.
“Oh,” is all she can get out.
“Shit. I’m sorry. That’s your ex, you probably don’t want to hear about him fucking someone else.”
She tries to brush it off, but it’s unconvincing. “Its fine. We’ve been divorced for years.”
“I’m still sorry. That was a dick thing say. Truth be told, the person I was talking about earlier, was Alex.”
“Alex is a chick, right?” She asks.
“Yes.” I laugh and so does she when I add, “Of course.”
“Okay. You never know. Small world huh?”
“Yeah. He did some tattoos for my friends. Met them through me and his brothers.”
She looks slightly uncomfortable and then says, “I’m glad he’s still doing tattoos.”
“He’s fucking good.” I have to admit that, even though part of me hates him for getting Alex.
A small smile crosses her face. “He always was.” She shakes the smile off and goes back to business. “Anyway. Call Mitch. He will help.”
“I will.”
I think about what Alex said about racing being a part of me. I knew she was right, and I made a promise that day that I would do what it takes.
I may have lost her, but I’ll be damned if I lose this too.
Chapter 23
Shriller
T
he next day I call Mitch Adamson and he tells me to meet him at the track. I wanted to meet anywhere else, but the man is a legend. There was no way I was going to let him think I’m a pussy.
A few hours later and my GTO is parked at the track I used to love. I make my way to the bleachers and see Mitch standing there waiting for me.
He’s in his mid-fifties and it’s obvious by his leathered and wrinkled skin that he's been through his fair share of shit. I shake his hand vigorously. This man is my idol. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”
He grumbles under his breath, “Don’t jizz in your pants, kid.” And he’s exactly how I pictured him.
I laugh and try to get it under control. “Sorry.”
He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers me one. I politely decline and I earn a
mumbled, “Pussy,” for that.
He lights up and takes a long drag before spilling the smoke out into the air in front of us. “So, you were in a fairly bad accident and now your balls are shrunken to the size of peas.”
“Well I don’t know…”
He tosses his hand in a gesture to shut me up, “Not a question, kid. I’ve been there. When you meet that pavement or dirt and hear from a doctor that it may be a long while before you race again, or that it might never happen, it can break you.” He takes another puff. “If you let it.”
“I want to get back out there.”
“So, do it. Don’t think, just do. The “what ifs” of life will fucking kill you. Or worse, make you become boring and not live.”
I smile at the last conversation with Alex. I’ve never overthought things in my life. “A kid I sort of mentored, died in the same accident.”
“Yeah. I know. You didn’t. You’re here, might as well live.”
A man I recognize as Levi, his oldest son, brings out a bike and parks it in front of where we’re standing. My heart is racing as he climbs off the bike, removes the helmet and holds it out to me.
Mitch pats me on the back, “Now’s your chance kid.”
Fuck. I'm going to puke in front of my hero. “I thought we would warm up first.”
“What do you want to do? Light stretches? Only one way to warm up for racing, get on the fucking bike,” Mitch says as he gives my body a little shove.
Fuck it. I’m Adam fucking Shriller. I don’t back down from challenges and I don’t quit. I take the helmet out of Levi’s hand and slip it on.
I try like hell to ignore my shaking hands as I climb onto the bike and start it up. Feeling the bike come to life under me revitalizes my spirit in an instant.
I put it in gear and fly around the track, letting my instincts and years of experience take over. For the first time in nearly a year I feel like myself again.
After an hour, I force myself to climb off the bike when Mitch and Levi wave me in.
“We have to get to dinner, or the wife will kill me, but you did good, kid.”
“I can’t believe that’s all it took,” I say, dumbfounded.
“Well, don’t be surprised if the next time doesn’t come easy. Just try to remember the high. If you need me, call me.”
I shake the men’s hands and they leave. I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and dial the only person I want to talk to right now.
“Hey, what’s up, asshole?” Alex answers the only way I would expect.
“Hey, guess where I am?”
“I fucking hate guessing games, Shriller.”
I chuckle as I make my way to my car. “You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m at the track.”
Her tone turns to almost giddy when she says, “No way! Did you get on a bike?”
I’m beaming with pride as I answer, “Of course I did.”
“That’s awesome, Shriller. Seriously.”
I unlock my door and climb in, secretly relishing listening to her voice. “Thanks. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“I’m glad. I should go. Just thought I’d let you know.”
I’m almost positive she’s smiling as she says, “Thank you. Now take care of yourself. If I get another call to the hospital, I’m going to kill you myself and just end it.”
I laugh, “Yes ma’am!”
“Bye, Shriller.”
“Later.”
I hang up the phone and smile sadly to myself.
At least we finally kept our promises because that phone call felt like old times.
Chapter 24
Alex
A
bout a month later, it’s a lazy Saturday morning, and Chris and I are in bed, both naked and happy after the way Chris decided to wake me up.
I’ve talked to Shriller a few times over the last month. He seems to be doing well. Words cannot explain how proud I was of him for getting back on a bike. He sounded so happy the day he called me.
Chris’s naked body is still on top of mine as he spreads soft kisses on my neck. His elbows support the weight of his toned body as he looks into my eyes. “So, what do you want to do today?”
I lift my head up and give his lips a kiss. “You mean besides this?”
He grins. “Yup.”
“Hmmm…, let’s just stay in bed.”
He’s about to give me an answer, but there’s a click of the lock on my door and Brooke comes bursting into my bedroom. “Alex! I have news!” Chris’s bare ass is probably the first thing she sees as he flips over, grabbing the sheet to cover himself, and Brooke turns around shielding her eyes. “Oh shit! Sorry!”
When Chris and I are both under the sheet, I address my best friend, who better have a damn good explanation. “What the hell Brooke? That key is for emergencies.”
She turns back around and holds her hands in the air, “I know, but I was just so excited and I just had to tell you! So, it was an emergency.”
I laugh. I haven’t seen Brooke this excited for a long time. “What, are you knocked up again?”
“No.” She sits on the end of my bed, totally comfortable. “Cassie’s getting married!”
I sit up a little straighter against my headboard, “No way? Our Cassie?”
` She giggles. This chick is downright giddy. “Yes. Hunter asked Dylan on New Year’s Eve if he could marry her. Dylan said yes and so did Cass when he popped the question today. So, we have a shitload to do.”
“Like?” I ask and poor Chris seems content to just let us talk.
“Well, he signed a contract with the Cowboys, and they’re moving to Dallas right after he graduates in May. They want to get married the weekend after graduation, so we have to throw an engagement party like…now.”
“Shit. Is Cass knocked up? Why the rush?”
Brooke is practically beaming. “They’re in love Alex, they want to start their lives. I’m all for it.”
“Is she dropping out of school?”
“Nope. Just transferring.”
It makes sense. Those two were made for each other and I find it romantic as hell that they aren’t prolonging it. “All right, so when is this party?”
Brooke stands up, wearing her most determined face. “I’m thinking three weeks. That gives us a little bit of time and it’ll be the first week of March, so hopefully not so cold and gross out. We can do it at the club, but Cass wants her wedding outside. The same place Dylan and I got married.”
“I wonder if she’d still want that if she knew you and Dylan used to go there to screw.”
Brooke shakes her head at me and Chris just chuckles. He’s leaned back against the headboard next to me with the sheet pulled up to his waist, but his sexy torso is bare and on display. I stare shamelessly for a second and then turn back to Brooke as she says, “She doesn’t need to know that.”
I laugh. “Okay I’m in. You know I love to plan parties.”
“Good.” Brooke looks happy and then turns her focus to Chris. “Sorry about this. But to be honest, it’ll probably happen again. It’s part of being in this group.”
I laugh and turn my head to look at Chris. “It’s true. I don’t even know how many times I’ve seen Dylan’s bare ass.”
Chris is grinning, but his eyes widen slightly. “Wow.”
Brooke and I snicker at his expression, and she and I plan to meet up tomorrow to start party planning.
I guess this means Shriller will be in town in a few weeks.
I sure hope we can handle this.
Chapter 25
Shriller
I
’ve been out on the track non-stop since that day with Mitch and Levi, getting back to my old fearless self. I’ve spent a lot of time with Levi, but not so much with Mitch since then.
Tonight, I’m out at one of my favorite night clubs with Miles, Levi, and Chris and Levi’s youngest brother, Phillip. I’ve partied with all of them off and on for years, so tonight we’ve fa
llen into our old routine easily. We’re sitting in the VIP section, surrounded by top choice alcohol and our fair share of chicks vying for our undivided attention.
Some platinum blond with fake tits is pressed up against me, practically sitting on my lap and damn near shouting in my ear over the loud music. “I can’t believe I’m here with Shriller the Thriller! I’m such a huge fan!”
I try not to roll my eyes at hearing what I’ve heard from every chick I’ve met in clubs since I started racing professionally. I take a drink of whiskey and listen to Miles’s groupie trying to coax him downstairs to somewhere more private for a blowjob.
“Do you have one of those sexy racing jumpsuits at home? Because if you do, I think we should get the hell out of here!” The blonde that’s practically humping my leg asks loudly, still right by my fucking ear. She then sticks her tongue in that same ear and says more quietly, in a voice I’m sure is supposed to be sexy, “Just the thought of you in that jumpsuit is making me wet as fuck.”
That should turn me on, right? Yeah, nothing’s going on below the belt, but this chick has succeeded in giving me a headache.
Lucky for me, my phone rings in my pocket and I hold my hand up to silence the bottle blonde. “Hold that thought.”
I pull my phone out and see it’s Dylan calling. “Sorry, I gotta take this,” I say as I stand up and start making my way out of the club while I hit the answer button.
“Hello?” I hear Dylan’s voice just barely over the music booming through the speakers.
“Just one sec, Dylan,” I yell through the phone and finally walk out into the cool air outside. It’s much quieter out here. “What’s up? Nobody better be shot or dead.”
I hear Dylan’s laugh and then he says, “Nah, none of that, but Cass is getting married.”
“No shit?”
“Yep, in May.”
I lean against the wall of the club. “Shotgun wedding?”
“Fuck off.” I’m still laughing at his response when he says, “Hunter signed with the Cowboys and they’re moving to Dallas. Cass wants to get married before then.”