Hard and Fast (Fast Track #2)(66)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Come on, it’s only natural. But I’m not stupid, I just have a messed-up brain.”

“I don’t think your brain is messed up,” she said softly, sensing how vulnerable he felt. “But I do think that maybe this is something you should have told me earlier. I mean, I asked you to read Shakespeare. You must have been sweating bullets over that.”

He shrugged. “Shakespeare’s easy because he’s popular. It’s obscure books that are hard to find on audio.”

Imogen leaned against her headboard and stared at him, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. It occurred to her that this was the first time he was spending the night at her apartment. They were engaged to be married and they really knew very little about each other. “What is your real name?” she asked.

“Huh?” He blinked.

“Is Ty short for something?”

“No.” He shook his head. “My mother didn’t believe in naming a kid something twelve letters long only to call him by a nickname. Why?”

“I’m just sitting here thinking that we don’t know anything about each other at all, Ty. We don’t know each other’s history, or family, or favorite foods. We don’t know how we lost our virginity or a million other little details.”

“I could tell you how I lost my virginity. It involves Bon Jovi, a keg party, and a Mustang.” He grinned. “And the car wasn’t mine, it was hers. I wasn’t old enough to drive.”

Imogen didn’t smile in return. “I’m serious,” she said.

“About what?” he asked, throwing his hand out in exasperation. “Why do we have to know everything about each other right this minute? People grow to know each other, and I’m sure even married couples who have been together for twenty years don’t know everything about their partner’s past or likes and dislikes. What’s the big deal?”

How did she say that her biggest fear was that they would get to know each other and fall right out of love? That familiarity bred contempt and he would get bored with her and she would get impatient with him?

“The big deal is that what if we don’t know pivotal things about each other? Things like your dyslexia define you and yet I had no idea that it existed.”

The smile fell off his face. He sat up straighter. “Dyslexia does not define me. It’s just an unfortunate pain in my ass. But it doesn’t change the core of who I am. I would be the same Ty Jackson McCordle with or without it.”

“Your middle name is Jackson?” she asked in dismay. “I didn’t know that! And of course it affects who you are. You’ve spent your whole life hiding from everyone the fact that you can’t read. It’s difficult to carry that kind of burden, always afraid of getting caught. It’s no wonder you engage in reckless and impulsive behavior. You have to pass yourself off as brimming with joie de vivre so no one will guess the truth.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Ty said, his words tight. “Maybe I just enjoy myself, did you ever think of that? Next you’ll be telling me the reason you’re uptight is because you’re suffering from penis envy.”

Imogen gasped. “Excuse me?”

“You know, Freud’s theory on women. I have heard of Freud, you know, even though I’m too stupid to read.”

This was spiraling way out of control. “First off, I never once called you stupid. Do not put words in my mouth. Second of all, I am not uptight.”

He scoffed.

Imogen blinked at him in disbelief. “You are being entirely irrational.”

“Of course I am, because you are always logical, right? Whatever.”

“Don’t whatever me.”

“I’ll whatever you whenever the f**k I feel like it.”

The f word outside of sex always sounded so harsh. She winced. “Look, let’s just both calm down and get some sleep, okay? Maybe we shouldn’t have opened this can of worms tonight.”

“I was just trying to be honest,” he said through gritted teeth. “I thought you should know.”

“I’m glad you told me,” she said sincerely, feeling guilty. She did want the truth, and it couldn’t have been easy for him to reveal his secret. “And I think you are a smart, amazing man, and I do love you.”

His expression softened. “Thank you. I love you, too.”

“And now that I know, we can talk about ways to help you. There’s no reason you can’t be taught to retrain your brain so you can read. You could even get your GED if you wanted to.”

She hadn’t meant to be anything other than helpful; after all, why couldn’t he learn how to read and make life easier? But Ty not only sat straight up in bed, he pushed the covers off and climbed out, his expression stormy.

“What?” she asked, puzzled.

“I don’t need to retrain my brain, thank you very f**king much. I do just f**king fine as it is. Do you know how much goddamn money I make? Do you know how hard I work day in and day out for that money? Do you know that if I wasn’t a risk taker, I would never have had the balls to leave home and hit the race circuit with nothing but a hundred bucks and tenacity in my pocket?”

Uh-oh. She hadn’t anticipated this sort of reaction. Trying to find words to calm him down, she opened her mouth.

But he wasn’t finished.

“I am successful because of my brains and my guts, put together, and I don’t need some fancy-ass degree from a bunch of sweater-vest-wearing pricks who haven’t gotten laid since Bush Senior was president. So maybe being a stock car driver isn’t saving the world, but it’s entertaining millions of people. What impact does writing about whether dating manuals work or not have on the world either? You can read, you’re brilliant, and you’re wasting your time moldering in some teaching position in an academic field no one gives a shit about. Do you know who studies sociology? People who would rather observe life than live it.”

Imogen felt tears sting her eyes as his last words hit her like a resounding slap. It was her worst fear verbalized. “Is that what you really think of me?” she asked in a whisper. Then she regretted even speaking. Shaking her head, she held up her hand, not wanting his answer. She’d had enough honesty for the night. “Never mind. Never mind. Just get out. Go home.”

Ty was already pulling on his jeans in angry tugs. “I’m going.”

“Fine.”