Page 30

Monterey

As I lay in bed, lying next to Danger, my heart can’t contain all of this emotion swimming freely. The way he holds me after having sex. After fucking me senseless says it all.

Does he hold all the other women this way?

I have to believe he doesn’t. I have to believe no other woman has ever seen this softer side of him.

I touch his cheek, feeling the stubble underneath my fingertips. “Dylan,” I say, trying on the name to see how it fits.

“Mmm.”

“Tell me something nobody else in the world knows about you.”

He laughs softly. “I don’t like green beans.”

I shove him in the side of his ribs. “No, something real.”

He kisses the top of my head as we snuggle in closer on the bed. “Sometimes I get scared when I’m out there on the racetrack.”

I prop myself up on an elbow. “Seriously?”

He shrugs, his dark eyes meeting mine. “I almost feel like I want to get so close to death, just to see what it’s like. If it’ll capture me or spit me back out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever wondered if your life has any meaning? Like if you weren’t supposed to die a long time ago. It’s hard to explain.”

I don’t say anything, but just lean back down, resting my head on his chest.

He continues, “Sometimes I wonder if I even deserve to live.”

“Oh, Dylan, how can you even think that?”

He holds me tighter, like the mere thoughts he’s having are too big for him to contain alone. “I let people down. I should have done better. My whole life I’ve never done anything I could be proud of.”

Now it’s time for me to hold him. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It’s true.”

“You punched Thad in the face. You should be proud of that.”

He laughs and kisses the top of my forehead once more. “I like this.”

“Like what?”

“This. Laying here with you. Laughing.”

I press my lips against his ribcage. “I like this too.”

We’re silent for a while, and Danger’s breathing has evened out. I wish I knew something about his life. A bad upbringing doesn’t label a person. It’s the way a person overcomes after a speed bump that defines them. And Danger is a fighter. No one can convince me otherwise.

He said he had let people down in the past. Has he ever had someone fight for him?

* * *

The next few days pass in a blurred frenzy of never ending activity. Danger wins the race easily, and already we’re driving to the next city.

Each tour brings new possibilities. And I remember a time when Thad and I would travel from race to race together. Most of the time I traveled with my father because Thad needed to focus.

And it was never like this. It was never this freeing between Thad and I like it is with Danger and me.

Danger makes me feel like an equal. Like I belong. I can see now Thad never made me feel that way. I’m glad now that Thad cheated on me. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like if I went through with that relationship.

I gaze at Danger while he drives. It’s becoming one of my most favorite things to do. The way the sunlight plays off his dark hair. I study his profile. His strong jawline. The barely there stubble that grows if he goes a few days without shaving.

Most times he doesn’t even realize I’m watching him. And I like watching him when he’s lost in thought. When he’s focused on the road and tugging at his eyebrow with his left hand.

It brings me back to when I was younger. Watching my mother as she busily tried to handle the chaos of her life around her. Being married to a driving tycoon sometimes made it hard on my mom. She didn’t like fast cars. And she hated fast men even more. She left my father when I was only five years old. And I lived with her for a few years. All the way up until the time she was diagnosed with cancer.

I’d watch her. Always watching, learning, studying the woman who raised me. The woman who loved me more than anything. When we lost her I wasn’t ready for it. Nearly eight years old, I couldn’t comprehend why my mother was called from this earth. And I hated everyone for the fact that she left.

I can understand the pain Danger’s going through with losing a parent. A mother. It’s one of those things that you never fully recover from. Sure, my father tried to replace my mother at first, but after a while he stopped. He let me grow up the way he felt I needed. And I don’t blame my father for any of it. I love my life.

I love racing.

I wouldn’t change who I am.

It makes me even more curious of Danger.

“Hungry?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I smile. “Always.”

“Watching me must build up one hell of an appetite.”

I act shocked. “I wasn’t watching you.”

He stares at me for a moment before returning his focus on the highway. “You were watching.” He takes the next exit.

“I was just wondering what you were thinking about.”

He opens his mouth slowly, like he’s about to tell me a story. “Nothing. Just enjoying the open road.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He pulls into a small diner’s parking lot. “Well, believe it sweetheart. Now, let’s go get some food.”

A man doesn’t look that lost in thought thinking about nothing. I wish I could know what he thinks about. What’s going on inside that gorgeous head of his.

We enter the diner and are seated at a small booth. Danger slides in, and opens up his menu.

“What’s wrong?” he says once I’ve sat down but haven’t picked up the menu yet.

“Nothing.”

He sets his menu down. “Oh, I see what this is.”

I smile. “What, what is?” I play innocent.

“You want to know what I was thinking about.” He laughs.

“No, it’s ok. You were thinking about nothing. Which I’m beginning to believe men really do think about nothing.”

“What do you mean?” He raises a brow.

We’re interrupted for like two minutes so we can order and when the waitress leaves I smile. “I mean, women can’t possibly think about nothing. We constantly have like twenty thoughts going on around in our heads. We have front thoughts, back thoughts, middle thoughts.”

He stares at me like I’m explaining the world’s hardest math problem. “Back thoughts?”

“Yeah, you know. The thoughts we’re mulling over at any given time. They’re not front and center like the thoughts of actually existing and moving throughout our day. Or what we’re seeing. Because we think about everything we see. And then we have the middle thoughts. The things we’re thinking about with the people around us. The situations we’re in.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It sounds exhausting to not think about anything.”

Danger picks up his coffee and takes a sip before saying, “Well, on the road I wasn’t really thinking about anything specific. I definitely didn’t have multilayered thoughts. I was just thinking how nice it was.”

“How nice what was?”

“Driving with you by my side.”

This fills me up with emotion, bubbling out through a smile. “I know.”

“I’m kind of dreading when this will all be over.”

I don’t say anything, because a part of me wants to ask why we need it to end at all. But, I don’t know how he feels about it. “Yeah.”

“I promise I won’t let the media turn this around on you.”

I attempt a smile. “Thank you.”

Our food arrives and Danger digs into his scrambled eggs and toast. How does eating come so easily to men? Here I am a wreck. I’m a complete mess over what’s to come. Yet, Danger can eat like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

And maybe I shouldn't have a care in the world either. I wish I could get my feelings out of this mess.

I wish I didn’t have feelings. Sometimes they’re so explosive I can’t breathe. A suffocating madness inside of me breaking to be set free.

Is that what real love feels like?