Revved (Page 47)

“Hey!” I playfully push her, making her laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean, you’re the one who snuck out on Carrick. All the women he’s slept with generally hang in there until the very end, clinging on to the hope that he might offer them a little more.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not like those women. I know who Carrick is and what last night was about. Anyway, I don’t get involved with drivers.” I get up from the bed, and retrieve my phone from my clutch. “I’m gonna hit the shower and then head into the track.”

“Cool. Well, I’m going back to sleep while you have a shower. Wake me up when you’re done, so I can jump in. Gotta go in and prep the food to feed the rich and obnoxious.” She gets up from my bed and climbs back in hers.

I get my necklace from my vanity bag, and take it with me into the bathroom. I shut the door and turn the light on.

I set the shower to hot. Pulling the toilet seat down, I sit on it and stare down at the necklace in my hand.

I might know what last night was, and I might have been the one who left Carrick’s room, but I’m not feeling as easy about it as I just made out to Petra.

It’s affected me. In fact, I’ve never felt so affected by anything…or by someone in my whole life.

Closing my eyes, all I can see is him. I can still smell him on my skin, still feel his touch.

I just wish…

What? What do I want?

Carrick?

I almost laugh out loud at myself.

I’ve been wishing for too many things since Carrick came into my life. That he wasn’t a driver. That I could have him.

This needs to stop.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself and swipe the screen on my phone, bringing it to life.

Using Google, I type William Wolfe accident into the search engine.

Images of my father’s crash flood my screen.

I feel a pain stab so sharp through my heart that it makes me gasp. But I need to look at these pictures. I need a reminder as to why I can’t have Carrick. He lives a dangerous life, and I can’t go through losing someone I love again.

I can’t risk it.

I need to put a stop to these feelings I have growing inside of me for Carrick.

I can’t fall for him. Because nothing good could ever come of it.

Even still, I fasten the necklace back around my neck and climb in the shower.

After I’ve showered and dressed, leaving Petra as she’s getting ready, I duck out of the hotel, fearing bumping into Carrick. So, I skip breakfast there, and on my way into the track, I opt to grab a toasted bagel from a deli near the hotel.

I’m just not ready to face him yet. It’s going to be awkward, and I don’t know how to handle it, so for now…I’m not handling. I’m avoiding.

And quite successfully so far. I’ve been hiding out in the garage all morning. Carrick doesn’t usually come down until right before race time, so I’m safe. I don’t even dare to go to the restroom in case I see him out there.

I’m being stupid. I know I can’t avoid him forever, but I just need this time to get my head straight before I face him.

I’m under his car, doing a few last checks, when I hear his voice.

My whole body freezes. And the belly of his car disappears from my view as images from last night flood my vision, making my body crackle to life.

I can hear him and Uncle John talking about the problem the car was having during yesterday’s practice. It was oversteering. That was the first thing I fixed when I got in this morning.

“It’s all sorted.” Uncle John’s voice draws closer.

That means Carrick’s coming over, too. Shit.

“Andi fixed it. She’s been here, working on it, since early this morning,” Uncle John says.

“Has she now?”

There’s something in Carrick’s tone that I can’t decipher, but his beautiful Irish brogue touches me in all the right places, making me shiver.

Touching me just like his hands did last night. His hands on me…him inside me…

Oh God. Focus, Andi. No Carrick sex thoughts.

Knowing I’m going to have to acknowledge the men standing near my legs, especially the one who saw me naked last night, I plaster on a neutral face and push myself out from under the car.

Shit.

He looks…gorgeous. Unfairly hot.

Why does he have to be so damn good-looking?

It makes things so much harder. It’s not that Carrick being ugly would make it any easier because he’d still be him, and that’s what I like best of all—the Carrick underneath all the pretty.

Oh, Jesus. Stop it. Stop it now.

The next thing you know, I’ll be breaking into song about the blue, blue of his eyes.

Which are currently sparkling down at me. There’s an unreadable expression on his face. His dirty-blond hair is all messed up, like he hasn’t touched it since he left the bed—the one he shared with me.

And now, I can’t stop thinking about Carrick and me in bed.

Him naked. All of that smooth golden skin. His six-pack. His huge co—

“Good morning,” he says, bringing me back to my senses. His brow is lifted, and there’s an unmistakable gleam in his eyes.

He knows where my mind just was.

I blush immediately. Covering up, I mutter out, “Good morning,” and get to my feet.

I need to sort myself out and quick. Otherwise, Uncle John will figure me out straight away. The way I’m currently acting, I might as well have the fact that I had sex with Carrick last night written all over my face in permanent marker.

I can do this. I can be a grown-up and act like nothing has changed because really it hasn’t. I just know what Carrick looks like naked. That’s all.