Part 5 (1/2)

He lifts his arm up and waves at me while continuing to jog down the driveway.

I watch Brady disappear into his house, and Paige exits ours. Not allowing her out of my sight again, I steadily stride toward her, and her steps quicken to her car. As her hand reaches for the handle, I step in front blocking her. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out to the street. ”Truce?” I offer and she huffs.

She gives me her attention and her eyes pin me to the car. ”Rob, I'm not into playing games.”

I hold my hands up. ”Me either. Please come tonight, I'd love to show you what my racing is all about.” I shoot a cheesy smile her way and she weakens slightly.

Biting her lip to keep from smiling, I laugh. ”Come on.” I pout my lip out and she rolls her eyes.

”Fine.” She pokes me in the chest. ”This is your last chance Rob, got it?” she pokes again and before I can grab her finger she yanks it back.

”Be ready at six.” She arches her eyebrows at me. ”Please.”

”I guess you'll find out at six.” She motions with her finger to step aside and I don't want to push my luck.

She backs her car out down the driveway, and I stand there watching her taillights until the sleek black car whirls around the corner.

I LEAVE THE safety of the shower, wrap a towel around me, and rub my arm against the cloudy mirror. Giving myself a hard examination through the small rounded s.p.a.ce, I dig for some reason that I agreed to go with him tonight. Is it how curious I am to the demon he's fighting, or his flirtatious acts toward me? Whatever the odd sensations he's drawing out from me, I can't tell him to f.u.c.k off and never speak to him again. Even when he's given me more than one reason in the past weeks. I know he's only into me for a fun night or two and maybe that's exactly what I need. Someone to f.u.c.k me so hard, my own problems fade away even if for only a night. But, I'm attached, invested into what the h.e.l.l haunts him every night.

Last night after I went to bed, I heard his gut-wrenching scream, and I shot up in bed. Staring at the shared wall, I contemplated comforting him, or ignoring him. Not wanting to overstep any boundary, I stayed in my room. I pressed my ear up to the wall, my heart weighed heavy from his small whimpers. What is this boy, who appears to have it all together, fighting? The c.o.c.ky mouth, arrogant walk, and hot as h.e.l.l guy is tortured from something. I have to figure it out; he has all these friends and they are blind to his deep layers underneath his facade. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my towel across my body. Should have gone into counseling instead of business.

I open the door and startle back. ”What's up, hot stuff?” Rob slinks in the doorway and I back up until the doorframe presses at my back. He's got his work pants on, barely hanging on his hips. The waistband of his boxers peek out, and his smooth chest is bare. He clearly doesn't manscape by the patch of dark chest hair that travels down his stomach. My hand moves up into my hairline, my fingers slowly graze down my neck as I commit to memory every crevice of muscles. ”Did you need something?” His voice alarms me and I step back from the small confines.

”No.” It's low and I wouldn't even be sure he heard me except for the chuckle as I flee to my room.

I shut my door and rest my back against it, sliding down until my b.u.t.t thumps on the floor. With my knees folded up to my chest, all those flirting moments with Rob swim through my brain again. What the h.e.l.l am I doing? As though a lightbulb flicks on, I realize that the fix-it side of me brought out by my mother's problems just wants to help him. I don't have to date him. I can be only his friend and hopefully save him from the darkness that surely surrounds him. I smile and my teeth nail down my lip as I nod my head. That's it. Perfect.

Flittering about my room, I begin the horrible task of getting ready. I decide to wear a pair of jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt with my Toms. One thing that attracts me to Rob is his simplicity of attire. The boy lives in jeans and plain T-s.h.i.+rts in an array of colors. The only thing I've seen him change more than his underwear is his watch. Another odd anomaly of his. A watch collector, who would have guessed.

With my curls not cooperating, I pull my hair up in a ponytail just as a knock punches on my door. Standing up from my make-do vanity on the floor, I look at myself one more time and then step over to answer the door. ”Ready?” He steps to the side, positioning his arm out for me to take.

I giggle. He's more dapper tonight with jeans that bear no stains and a Henley s.h.i.+rt that fits nice and snug along his chest, ending right before his black belt. Checking out his wrist, I find a s.h.i.+ny silver watch wrapped around it. By the time I reach his eyes, after thoroughly ogling his body, his perfect white teeth surface from his opened smiling lips. ”Good?” he asks and I set myself up for failure when I ask.

”What?” I tilt my head.

”Am I good enough to eat?”

”You know I think you've been polite for about,” I raise my wrist like I'm clocking the time. ”One minute?” I question and he laughs.

”I tried, doesn't that count?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, peeking from me to the floor. I desperately want to call him out, but I can't in good conscious. So, I link my arm through his and tug him to start walking.

”Yes, it counts.” I wait for his eyes to meet mine. The clearest blue I've ever seen, and I can't help but imagine him as a little boy every time I look in them. The light contrast to his black hair brings out the exotic and mysterious side of him. ”Thank you.” His eyes study my lips and then close briefly before he nods.

Rob and I have small talk and he gives me the low down on the car racing scene among a little about him during our hour trip. ”After learning Rob is an only child, his parents own a family printing business in the small town he grew up in, I'm wondering what on Earth his demon could be. He's open with any question I ask and by the time we drive down the long secluded road in the middle of nowhere; I'm stumped to why this guy poses such a persona. The questions of this other Rob that emerges on occasion is on the tip of my tongue, but I can't ruin tonight. I'm enjoying my time with him too much to spoil it with whatever he does fight on a daily basis.

”This is it?” Car m.u.f.flers roar and breaks squeal as we wait in line to pay the fee to get in. Reading the sign that there's a spectator fee, I reach down for my purse. ”Let me,” I begin, but Rob places his hand on my arm and goose b.u.mps shoot up my skin.

”I have you covered.” When I peer up at him, he retracts his hand back as though my skin was on fire. It is, but he doesn't know that.

I straighten back up in my seat. ”Thank you.” Did Rob ask me out on a date? I wrongly a.s.sumed this was just a friend thing. My heart skips a beat and b.u.t.terflies fill my stomach that this was his step. He crossed over and allowed himself to have faith in me.

Shock must fill my face because he chuckles. ”I'm not always an a.s.shole.”

”Oh, no . . .” I try to somehow convey to him he isn't an a.s.shole. I imagine my eyes glossed over with stars bursting out of them from how happy I am that there is something more to us than just attraction.

Thankfully, before I embarra.s.s myself further, he has to pull up to the small red shed with a drive-thru window.

”Hey Wild Card, what's going on tonight?” A man in his fifties greets Rob while taking the money from Rob's hand. He leans down to check through the window when he counts the money. ”Oh, you got a lady friend with you tonight?”

Rob looks my way and we share a look of amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Yeah, I do.” He faces the guy again.

”I'm hoping to be off to see you race at least once. Last week was just . . . f.u.c.king spectacular.” The guy continues priding on Rob. He nods, trying to appear cool and nonchalant, but the small sneak of a smile curling at the edges of his lips signals different. He's clearly proud of his accomplishments here and he's made a name for himself. Another side of Rob I'm guessing not a lot of people see.

”Thanks, Jim. See you out there.” Rob s.h.i.+fts his car back into first gear and he's ready to pull away when Jim places his hand in the car.

”Hold up. FYI, Xavier's here tonight.” Rob stops the car and tilts his head up to Jim.

”When?” Whoever Xavier is, it's clear this is not good news to Rob from the scowl across his lips.

”About a half hour ago. The whole group of them.” A loud gruff escapes and his fist slams into the steering wheel. ”Hey now. Talk to Dan, he'll keep you guys separated until you race.” Jim brings out a walkie-talkie and presses the little b.u.t.ton. ”Dan, Wild Card just arrived.”

A crinkling of static flows through the line and I can't help but detect the tension encompa.s.sing the car now. A deep gruffly voice speaks over the talkie. ”Tell him to go around back. Garage four. Tell him eyes forward and don't start any s.h.i.+t until I get there.”

Jim holds up the walkie-talkie, shrugging his shoulders. Obviously, Dan is the boss from the way he has both men willing to do what he instructs. ”Got it. Thanks for the heads up, Jim.”

Rob's car zooms out of the gate and he roughly slams the brakes. As we wait in traffic to drive wherever Garage four is, he's touchy on the break and gas, practically giving me whiplash. ”Who's Xavier?” I ask, because I have no filter and I'm a curious being.

”n.o.body.” He shakes his head. ”Just someone that I don't get along with. I know, shocker.” His head never spins my way and I stare out the window thinking I shouldn't have come tonight. ”When we get to the garage, I have to talk to Dan, but I'll be right back. You can wait outside or if you want to, go to the bar and get something to drink.”

I nod. ”Okay.” I'm a little uncomfortable about the whole situation.

He reaches over and grabs a hold of my hand. ”After that though, I won't leave you unless I'm racing. I just have to take care of this with Dan first.”

”Oh, I can't ride with you?” In my mind I was thinking I'd get to experience the thrill he does by just being a pa.s.senger.

He shakes his head. ”No.” It's a short word with a lot of punch.

We drive past the lit up strip of pavement with a huge crowd corralled with a gate and a girl excitedly climbs into one of the racing cars, obviously being a pa.s.senger. Thinking it might not be the right time for me to argue his rules; I remain quiet, searching the garage doors until number four appears.

The garage door is open and Rob drives right in. A big burly man is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, staring us down as the headlights beam on his body. After he turns off the ignition, he faces my direction. I'm leaning down to grab my purse. ”I'm sorry, Paige. If I'd known he was going to be here, I wouldn't have brought you. I promise this won't take long.” I'm not sure I've ever heard him so sincere. The guilt of him having to desert me is clear in his eyes.

”It's okay, really. I'm a big girl.” I plaster a smile on my face and he nods.

”So, where will you be?”

”Um . . . the bar?” I shrug my shoulders. I'm not going to stand outside like a moron with the groups of guys and friends all through the area.

”Great. I'll come and get you.” We each climb out of the car. He never introduces me to Dan, but instead they remain silent until I exit the building.

The door shuts right after I pa.s.s under and I gulp, taking in the scene around me. The guy to girl ratio must be ten to one. Sporadic groups of people are huddled around cars as their engines roar to life. As I weave my way through the crowd over to the bar, I see a few guys check out my a.s.s, one even hollering over to me, but I set my eyes on the light-up sign that says Bar. Upon walking in, it's clear they took a garage and converted it into a bar. Distracting myself while I wait in line, I pull out my phone, noticing I don't have much of a signal.