Hopper was breathing down my neck, and I’d even gotten a call from my father, making sure I was okay.
Making sure I was okay = father speak for get your ass home and deal with your responsibilities.
It took several days to catch up, a full day at the pro shop getting the Skyline back in perfect condition, and by the time I was caught up on all the “business” stuff I had to deal with, I only had one day before I was to fly to Colorado to attend the NRR race.
I fixed my tire before driving back home, but I didn’t use Jace’s garage like he told me I could. Once I was out of his arms, I missed him.
It wasn’t a bad thing to miss someone. Unless of course that someone wasn’t really part of your life. Then it hurt. It ached.
It made me feel like I was somehow losing a piece of me.
A big piece… a piece I might not ever get back.
So I stayed away. Drew and Trent helped me with the tire. We hung out with their family (who were all really cool), and then I drove home.
Jace didn’t text me, and it took effort not to wonder why.
He didn’t owe me anything, just as I owed him nothing.
Yet here I was, almost a full week later, with need pooling in my limbs. I looked at my phone more than I cared to admit, wondering if he would text or call. I was preoccupied a lot, thinking, remembering… reliving the way I felt beneath his touch.
Sex with him had been the best I’d ever known. Anyone or anything that wasn’t him would be a step down.
I realized I could text him; phones worked both ways. His name and number were in my phone, but I didn’t reach out.
Know how I found out the magazine was out?
I was standing in line at Target, behind a woman with more kids in her cart than actual items, with my arms full of things I needed before I boarded a plane the next day, when I saw it.
Right there on the top shelf, with all the other magazines, was ours.
The black and white image of Jace and me pressed together, both staring off the page, took my breath. It was an instantaneous feeling of being punched right in the stomach.
I’d never seen GearShark so prominently displayed, but even I had to admit it fit there alongside the fashion magazines, the celebrity rag mags, and the entertainment-themed ones.
I stepped closer to the rack, my eyes unable to move from the image we made. Looking at this photo now, it struck me as foreplay. As a definite prelude to the fireworks that went off when he laid me across the hood of my car.
At the time, I’d been slightly annoyed, put off, and not really feeling like a model. Then the photographer directed us behind closed doors. He seemed to sense what I hadn’t. Was that why he asked me to get half naked?
Did he know?
The second my bare skin pressed against Jace’s, the shoot itself shifted. It became much more real. This photograph captured what I’d been feeling perfectly.
It captured the intensity Jace and I seemed to generate between us.
That look in his eyes. So fierce. So dangerous.
I picked up the issue, the glossy cover smooth against my fingers. I didn’t think it was possible to feel his absence more.
I did now.
I drove home and threw a bunch of stuff in my suitcase. The magazine lay out on my bed, the cover on full display.
The phone beeped with a text, and my heart jumped.
Then fell when I saw Hopper’s name on the screen.
I rolled my eyes at my own behavior. I was acting like I was in eighth grade. “Get over yourself, Joey.”
Be there early to pick you up for airport. Flight leaves at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m., Hopper texted.
See you then. I confirmed as I snickered.
Hopper was traveling with me to Colorado. Since he was managing me through my crossover and once I was firmly in the NRR, it only made sense he come to this NRR race. The more we could pick up, the better. Most people probably thought racing was racing, but they were wrong.
The dynamic between drivers, racers, and even sponsors was different everywhere. The NRR was in a league of its own; it wasn’t like the pros. It wasn’t supposed to be.
Once I finished packing, I glanced at the clock and realized it was dinnertime. Tonight I was eating with my father; he wanted to have a “family” meal with me before I left.
I was twenty-two and still lived at home. But sometimes it felt like I had my own place. This was a big house, and my father worked a lot. Sometimes we would go days without seeing each other at all.
I still lived here because, well, why wouldn’t I?
This was a gorgeous home. I grew up here. I had my own wing, didn’t pay rent, and there was a small staff that helped out with things like cleaning and keeping food in the fridge. And honestly, I liked not having to do my own laundry.
Plus, there was the added bonus of having gates around the property. It served as added security and privacy. My father was a high-profile man, so things like that were very important.
I didn’t bother changing for dinner, but left on my leggings, white T-shirt, and oversized buttoned flannel. I’d been reaching for the white T-shirts in my drawer a lot lately.
It wasn’t because it reminded me of Jace.
Well, maybe it was.
With the magazine under my arm, I made my way into the dining room, expecting to be the first one there.
I was last.
And more people sat there than just my father.
Trent and Drew sat on the same side of the table, facing away from the entry. But the second I stepped in, they both turned and grinned.
I smiled immediately. I liked their faces.
“There you go, just sneaking in on me again,” I said fondly.
I was glad to see them. Truthfully, the loneliness I’d been feeling lately was something I wasn’t accustomed to, and it kinda freaked me out.
I went forward, set the magazine on the table, and threw one arm each around their necks.
“Group hug,” Trent declared, and I laughed.
“Bringing reading material to dinner?” Drew asked, picking up the magazine before I could snatch it. “We aren’t that boring.”
As he spoke, he flipped it over in his hands so it was cover up, revealing Jace and me.
“Damn,” Drew said, getting an eyeful.
I reached for it, slightly embarrassed, but he pulled it away.
“That’s a pretty sexy shot,” he said, still gawking at it.
My eyes skittered to my father seated at the head of the table and watching the three of us.
Sexy and my father did not belong in the same room.
I never blushed, but I felt my cheeks heating.
“I just did what the photographer asked. He had an artistic vision, you know,” I muttered.
The reality that thousands of people would be seeing this magazine suddenly crashed over me. Nerves flared in my tummy and made me nauseous.
Suddenly, all the moxie and determination I felt to turn the tables on Jace the day of the shoot and call his bluff seemed like a really bad idea.
“That photographer is good at getting people to take off their shirts,” Trent said, leaning over and taking in the full cover. “He did the same thing to me.”
Drew made a rude sound. “Then he tried to get T to model underwear for him. Freaking underwear.”
Trent gave me an amused look and winked. I couldn’t help but smile because it was so obvious Drew’s jealousy entertained him.
My father cleared his throat, and I practically jumped and reached for the magazine again. Drew tried the keep-away game again, and I gave him a pointed stare. “Dad hasn’t seen it yet.”
I gave him the stink eye, hoping they would all shut up about my state of undress on the national magazine.
Drew grimaced and handed it over.
“Sorry,” he said to my father.
I walked around the table opposite Drew and Trent and beside my father to sit down. The table was already set w
ith plates and glasses, and there was bread in the center.
I wasn’t about to be all timid about the shot. Obviously, Dad was going to see it. I wasn’t going to act ashamed because I didn’t do anything wrong. I leaned over, setting the magazine (cover up) beside his plate.
He didn’t even look down.
“I’ve seen it,” he announced.
“You have?” I demanded.
He gave me a look that said, You underestimate me.
“Ten copies were delivered to my office yesterday morning.”
I gasped. “You didn’t say anything.”
“You were busy.”
“I didn’t even know it was out until I saw it at Target earlier.”
“They didn’t send you a proof of the article?” Drew asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t think they were going to push it out this fast.”
Dad made a sound. “It’s called good business. No point in sitting on a product that will clearly drive sales.”
“So you like it?” I asked.
I was a grown woman, my own person. But every daughter cared about her father’s opinion.
Even if she never wanted to admit it.
“I’m assuming there was an entire staff present for the shoot?” he questioned.
I nodded. “When we went inside, the staff was pared down because of space limitations, but yes.”
Lorhaven counted as staff… right?
Drew glanced at me and smiled. I thought about throwing a piece of bread at his face.
“As long as you weren’t pressured.” Dad went on.
“I wasn’t. They said it was the first issue they’ve ever done with a couple, and they wanted something a little edgy.” I glanced over at Drew. “Apparently, Trent’s shirtless cover sold very well.”
Drew scowled, and Trent choked on the iced tea he was drinking.
My father nodded. “Well, it definitely does have… appeal. And the other model, he was respectful?”
Trent laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
My father frowned.
“Lorhaven—” Trent began, and I gave him a look that shut him up instantly.
“Jace was perfectly respectful, Dad. In fact, he yelled at the photographer for asking me to take off my shirt and then made me put on his.”
“Jace?” Drew observed.
Trent lifted his eyebrow.
OMG! They were like two annoying brothers who just wanted me to get in trouble!
“That’s his name,” I snapped.
“Interesting,” Trent murmured, like he was speaking only to Drew.
They shared a look between them.
“Where’s Ellen? I’m starving.” Actually, I wasn’t, but I wanted to give big mouth and never-shut-up-mouth something to do besides talk.
As if on cue, she appeared. A few covered platters were placed down, and I jumped up to help her retrieve the rest. Once all the food was out, we began passing it around.
Tonight, we were having Maryland Crab Cakes, cornbread, roasted vegetables, and some kind of pasta dish with a butter and cream sauce.
Yet another reason I chose to take a wing here rather than get my own place. I couldn’t cook. At all. In fact, if it weren’t for room service, I’d starve when I was on the road.
Once everyone had full plates, Dad glanced at me. “I read the article.”
“What did you think?”
“They gave Lorhaven more press time.”
I wanted to wince. If I hadn’t walked out, I could have made sure he didn’t.
“Are you surprised?” I asked. “The fact I’m on the cover shocks the hell out of me.”
“The interviewer said you had to leave early.” He gave me a look. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I don’t get the same respect the other drivers get,” I said, setting aside my fork. “You know that. Sometimes I get sick of it.”
“Lorhaven didn’t seem to think your reception with the NRR would be any better.” My father pointed out.
I reached for my water, wishing it was beer.
“Lorhaven has a reputation for being an asshole,” Trent put in.
Drew nodded. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think that now.”
“Why is that?” Dad turned to the guys.
“Because she nearly creamed him on his own turf last week.” Trent showed his teeth. “It was sweet.”
“Almost?”
“Blew a tire,” I hurried to say.
Both guys looked at me, knowing there was more to it than that. My eyes told them to shut the hell up.
They listened.
“Overall,” Dad said, taking a bite of food, “I think the article will be good for your career and will help put the spotlight on you.”
“Have many people at headquarters seen it yet?” I asked, thinking of all the pro racers that drove with me over at Gamble Speedway on a regular basis. My stomach twisted when I imagined them reading the article, looking at the cover…
“I had several copies sent there, so I imagine some have seen it by now.”
I digested that information, suddenly feeling too full to eat my food.
After a while of everyone eating, I glanced up at Drew, realizing I hadn’t even asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Figured we could all fly to Colorado together,” Drew answered.
“I have my plane at the airport ready for you all.”
After that, I let the guys guide the conversation, only chiming in when asked a question. Otherwise, I pushed food around my plate (except the crab cake; I ate that. It was totally good) and spared lingering glances at the copy of my magazine still lying on the table.
Once all the plates were cleared and coffee was served, my father announced he had some paperwork for Drew.
“Would you mind looking over it now?” he asked.
Drew shook his head.
“You mind, Joey?” my father asked.
I waved him away. “Of course not. Thanks for dinner, Dad.”
“Come see me in my office before you go upstairs so I can say good-bye.”
I nodded.
When they were gone, I focused on my coffee, but my attention was on Trent, who stared at me with this knowing expression in his eyes.
Finally, I glanced up. “What?” I asked, irritable.
“I know a little about wanting someone you aren’t supposed to.”
My stomach bottomed out. “What?” I croaked. The word sounded a lot different than just seconds ago.
He smiled, not the I’ve got you all figured out smile, but the I understand and I don’t judge you smile.
Abandoning his chair, palming his coffee, he walked around to where I sat, pulled out the wooden seat beside me, and dropped into it.
My heart fluttered, nerves coiling in me. I didn’t know I was being obvious. I didn’t want to be. I prided myself on being a closed book.
“Relax,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You aren’t that obvious.”
My mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
He made a sound. “I’ve been there.”
I nodded. I guess he had. He and Drew didn’t have the easiest of starts. But look at them now, so happy, stable, and seemingly impervious to what other people thought.
I glanced back at the magazine.
If Drew’s reaction to first seeing it was it was sexy, if my first reaction to finding it on the shelves was how we looked together, then what would everyone else think?
Trent nudged my leg with his foot. “Wanna talk about it?”
He had this calmness about him no one else I knew had. This way of relaxing someone even when they felt judged. It was like with Trent, he understood and he listened… Most of all, I felt like no matter what I said, he wouldn’t hold it against me.
All those knowing looks I’d caught from him, the quiet way he watched every situation.
I put my chin in my hand and tried to ignore the wild hair trying to steal my
vision. “I don’t think I need to say anything. You already know, don’t you?”
The side of his mouth curved up. “Probably.”
“I’m not sure what happened,” I whispered, dropping my hand on the table.
“Your heart chose.”
I glanced up. “What?”
“People think…” He paused as if searching for what to say. “They think they have a say. That when the “perfect” person walks into their life and checks all the boxes, they will instantly fall in love. It doesn’t work that way. We get no say whatsoever. In fact, I’d be pretty much willing to bet the universe laughs when we create those check boxes of the perfect mate. Then it sends us the complete opposite to show us who’s really boss.”
I felt hot and cold at the same time. I felt understood and confused all at once. Yet his words settled inside me, like deep in the very bottom of my gut as if that were exactly where they belonged.
Still, I scoffed. “You think I’m in love with Jace?”
“Are you?”
“Of course not,” I refused, picking up my coffee to cradle it in my hands, lifting it to my lips. Suddenly, my throat felt very dry.
“Is that your head or your heart talking?”
Well, damn him and his knowing ways.
“We don’t have a relationship, not even a friendship,” I argued. He’d at least had a friendship with Drew that was at the core of them falling in love.
He squinted. “You sure about that?”
“It was just sex. One time.” Two times. My mind reminded me. As if my body could ever forget.
And no, I didn’t feel awkward telling Trent I had sex with Jace. I already said Trent had some kind of exclusive ability to make me feel I could say anything.
And to be honest? It felt kind of nice to talk to someone.
I didn’t have girlfriends. Not the kind I could call up and chat with. Not the kind who met for coffee and no one I could talk about my sex life and relationships with.
My mom moved out when I was fourteen, right around the time a girl might start thinking about dating and boys. I wouldn’t dare talk to my father about it, even though I knew I could.
It was probably the reason I didn’t have many relationships. Other than a boyfriend in high school and a couple hookups since then, I didn’t date.
My job was my life. People probably assumed I had the pick of all the men. So not true.
#Swag (GearShark #3) Page 15