Revved (Page 48)

Oh God.

“Your car’s all ready.” I force my eyes up to his, but I feel a jolt the instant our eyes meet. Taking a quick breath, I swallow down. “You’ll have no problems. It’ll handle perfectly now.”

“John, you got a minute?” That’s Ben calling.

“Sure. I’ll catch up with you before the race.” Uncle John pats Carrick on the shoulder. He goes over to Ben, who is on the other side of the garage, leaving Carrick and me alone.

I watch Uncle John go. When I bring my eyes back to Carrick’s, he’s still staring at me but more intensely now.

That causes my heart to ratchet up and a swarm of butterflies to invade, mercilessly attacking my insides. I’m starting to feel hot, and I have a strong urge to run away.

“So, yeah…I’d better, um…”

I start backing away, but Carrick follows me.

“Andressa”—his voice is lowered—“can we talk?”

What I should say, as a mature adult is, Yes, of course we can talk.

Sadly, I’m not feeling that mature right now, which is why I act like a complete child. I mutter out, “Uh…I can’t right now. I need to, um…wash my hands.”

I lift my dirty hands up as proof, and then before he can say another word, I hotfoot it out of there like my arse is on fire.

My heart is practically beating out of my chest by the time I make it to the restroom.

I stand at the sink, my hands trembling.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I just talk to him?

Because you’re scared of what he’s going to say.

He’ll say what needs to be said—that last night was a one-night stand. It’s what I need to say. Because that’s all it was.

Even if I wasn’t who I am and I could be with him, this is Carrick. He doesn’t have girlfriends. He has one-night stands.

I rub at the weird sensation in my chest, which has left me feeling a little breathless, and in turn, I smear more dirt onto my overalls.

I sigh at myself in the mirror.

I need to act my age and talk to him. I’m a grown-ass woman. I can have a conversation with the man I had sex with last night.

I just need to get the inevitable over with, so Carrick and I can get back to normal. Whatever our normal is.

Deciding that I’ll talk to him the next time I see him, I pump out some soap into my hands with a renewed sense of purpose. I run the hot water tap and scrub my hands clean. I’ve just grabbed some paper towels when my phone pings a text in my pocket.

I dry my hands, dump the paper towels in the bin, and get my phone from the pocket of my overalls.

Carrick.

My heart starts to beat faster.

I don’t know what the fuck that just was, but we need to talk—now. Driver’s room. Two minutes.

My fingers tremble as I type out my reply.

Okay.

I look at myself in the mirror again, trying to build my courage. I give myself a pep talk. “You can do this. It’ll be easy. Carrick is a player. He’s well versed in one-night stands. You’re both grown-ups. You can do this.”

Taking a deep breath, I leave the restroom and head straight for Carrick’s room.

I take another deep breath before knocking on his door.

“Come in.” His gruff voice comes from the other side.

Hands trembling, I step inside before closing the door behind me.

Carrick is leaning up against the window, arms folded, eyes giving nothing away.

“Hi,” I say, my voice sounding tiny.

“What the hell is going on, Andressa?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean”—he unfurls his arms, straightening up—“that, first, I wake up to an empty bed. Then, I come down to the garage because we need to talk about last night, and you act like I’ve got a deadly fucking disease and run for the hills.”

“I wasn’t running. I had to—”

“Wash your hands. Yeah, you said.” His fingers rub at his forehead, his eyes flashing impatience. “Don’t bullshit me. I know when I’m being avoided.”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Liar. Liar.

He gives me a look and then a sigh. He links his hands behind his neck, tipping his head, as his eyes go to the ceiling.

I watch the muscles in his arms flex and tense, and I get a flash of him above me last night—his arms tensing beside my head as he moved inside me. It leaves me with this unfamiliar feeling in my chest.

“I thought we had a good time last night.” His voice is softer, gentler, as his eyes come back to mine, his arms dropping to his sides.

I suddenly feel exposed. I wrap my arms around myself, staring past him and out the window at the city skyline beyond. “We did have a good time…”

“But?”

“But…” I exhale. “That was last night, and…well, this is today.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…I don’t know, Carrick.” Dropping my arms, I shrug helplessly. “I guess it means that we move on from last night and go back to where we were.”

Something resembling incredulity flickers in his gaze. “You’re blowing me off.”

“I’m not blowing you off. I just…we slept together, and it was amazing, but…that was last night, and this is today.”

“So you keep saying.”

He’s not making this easy, and I don’t understand why. I thought he would want this. In all honesty, I thought he’d say this before I did.

I run my hand over my plait, tugging on it. “What do you want me to say?”