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Dramatically, I flop back against the couch and cover my face with my hands. They’re not going to stop. Without warning, my thoughts shift to her again and the idea of seeing her, even if it’s just a glimpse, has me going to change.
After I’m dressed, I stare at the bottle on my nightstand. I hate sleep because of nightmares and those pills are supposed to cure that. Here’s the thing about nightmares. They either remind you of your past, or they prepare you for the future. Neither one I want to face right now.
24
EVIE
With a baseball hat on to shade my face, enough makeup for a beauty pageant, my fear and anxiety battle for which one might overtake me as I step from Shane’s Mustang and onto the pebble-stone driveway of the Gomez residence.
Aiden Gomez is one of Grayson’s cousins. Older by two years, he left home when he graduated high school and eventually found his way to working on a NASCAR team where he’s a spotter for a Cup team.
Aiden, he’s amazing. Grayson had always been close to him growing up. In turn, I knew him pretty well too, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not excited to see him.
When Shane and I arrive, it’s past nine that night and the party is in full force. Country music blares from speakers on the deck, a bonfire crackles and glows in the field, and the tractors are already out. There is one thing the Gomez family is famous for. Their barbecues and souped-up lawnmower races. Aiden’s dad, Adam, always has the fastest. Probably because every part on it is illegal and it runs off moonshine. I’m not even joking.
We walk around the side of the house and to the backyard.Shane has a firm grip on my hand. I’m so nervous I think I might puke, but it also might be from not eating much the last week. I’ve lost ten pounds in one week and my fragile hold on reality and life is slowly slipping away. I can barely put one foot in front of the other.
Standing next to Shane, my breathing picks up when I spot Frankie first, her arms wrapped around Aiden with a smile on her face. Aiden looks the exact same way he did when he left. Same blond hair, tall, lanky, a southern drawl to every word spoken.
My eyes drift to the left and notice Grayson next, standing by a lawnmower with another guy around the same height and build. I recognize the guy next to him immediately as the driver of the team Aiden spots for. Jameson Riley. He has on a black hat pulled down low so you can’t see his eyes, but I know it’s him. He is the most talked about driver in NASCAR right now. Kinda hard not to notice him in this crowd.
My gaze shifts back to Grayson and the substance in his hand. It appears to be a half-empty bottle of whiskey frequently being brought to his lips. Within a minute of my appearance in the backyard, my name is said by someone and Grayson’s head snaps up. I stand paralyzed, waiting for his reaction to me. And I think maybe, he doesn’t see me at first. But then, with smoky air drifting between us, Grayson notices me. I can’t tell from where I’m standing what his internal reaction might be, but I can visibly notice the tensing of his frame as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
With his stare on mine, he brings the bottle to his lips. He stalls before taking a drink, and then his attention is elsewhere, no longer on me.
I’m so sorry.
Pain hits my chest and then tears I swore wouldn’t fall today, burn in my throat.
My name is said again and before I know it, Aiden’sapproaching me. “Now that’s a face you don’t see every day,” he teases, winking at me before yanking me into a hug, unaware of the one next to me.
Shane doesn’t let go of my hand so I give Aiden a one-armed hug. “Hey there, big time.” My arm shakes and I pull it away just as quickly in hopes that he doesn’t notice.
“Big time?” He laughs. “Not exactly. That guy’s the big time.” He gestures to Jameson in the distance. I think, by the way Aiden’s eyes dip to Shane’s hold on my hand, he noticed. “Ease up, man. I ain’t stealing your girl.” Swaying a bit, Aiden wraps his arm around me, pulling me along. My hand slips from Shane’s. “Come meet Jameson and Emma.”
I hesitate, knowing they’re standing beside Grayson. “Who’s the guy?” Aiden whispers.
“Shane,” I whisper back, offering no last name or title attached to it.
Aiden takes me toward the group, Shane following closely.
A loud bass to Brooks and Dunn thumps wildly in my chest, my heart and bones shaking in fear of how this is going to play out.
“Who’s going first?” Aiden asks, gesturing to the tractor they’re leaning against.
Grayson doesn’t look up; instead, he brings the bottle to his lips again, taking a long pull from it, finishing the remains.
“I’ll race this guy.” Jameson chuckles lightly beside him, bumping his shoulder with his fist. “He’s all fucked up.”
Laughter breaks out from those around me, everyone except Grayson. His eyes are on the field, a group of girls to his left trying to get his attention. The thought that he might leave with one of them brings a pain, a prickling cold sensation throughout my entire body. My heart cracks.
Aiden wraps his arm around me again. “Evie.” He points to a girl a little shorter than me with black hair wearing a hooded sweatshirt and cutoff jean shorts, a drink in her hand and smileon her face. “That’s Emma and her brother”—he lifts the beer in his hand and points to the guy beside Grayson—“Jameson Riley.”
I shake Emma’s hand first, then Jameson reaches for my hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling, his voice a deep rasp I recognize from his frequent interviews. Ethan is a huge NASCAR fan so it’s rare the race isn’t on TV.
“What brings a hot shot NASCAR driver to Pinckard?” Shane asks Jameson, as if he can’t believe someone of his stature would come here.
Jameson squints in Shane’s direction, his left hand tipping up his hat slightly. He doesn’t answer Shane, barely even acknowledges him, but his eyes drift to my face and Shane’s right hand, and then back to me again. I don’t think he can see it with the lack of lighting, but it’s like he’s making the connection based on my demeanor.