Page 31 of How You See Me (You and Me Duology #2)

Josie

R iding in the go-kart with Hayes is already one of my favorite memories. We do this kind of thing every day—ride in intimate spaces, just the two of us—but there’s something different about this.

The way he tucks me against him in the tiny compartment, his thick, muscular legs claiming most of the space.

The way one strong hand grips the steering wheel while the other calmly cups my inner thigh as if he has to touch me.

My arms wind around his inked bicep, holding on as much for comfort as to savor the feel of him.

The first time around the track, he goes slow, picking up speed the more I adjust. But on our last lap before time runs out, all rules and considerations have flown out the window.

I’ve screamed, braced for impact, and banged my elbow and head on the cushioned frame more times than I can count .

. . but I’m still laughing. I haven’t panicked—other than a few racing heartbeats when I lowered into the kart the first time—and I’m taking in the reckless fun like I’ve encouraged him to do along this way.

And Hayes’ big, goofy smile hasn’t faded once. When a teenage driver flips him off on the way by, his laughter rings out, deep and uninhibited. I fumble for my phone and take a picture, needing to capture this rare, beautiful joy he’s wearing so naturally.

It’s not only his happiness that touches something deep inside me. It’s knowing how much he deserves it.

And the best part of all?

I’m falling for Hayes Montgomery at landslide speed. He makes it impossible not to love him. I wish I hadn’t been so set on taming his outer grizzly for so long. I almost missed the cushy teddy bear he hides underneath.

Back at the starting line, Hayes secures the brake, then reaches over to frame my face with both hands. He kisses me hard. It’s quick and intense, like he can’t help himself.

“You’ve got this,” he whispers.

“It’s my turn?”

“Yep.”

All the fluttery butterflies, nervous moths, and scared little bees start swirling in my stomach.

“Go as fast as you want,” he encourages. “Stay in your lane and the others will leave you alone.”

“You didn’t stay in yours when that teenager waved at you with his middle finger. ”

He laughs, a true hearty one that comes straight from his belly. “I deserved it, but you don’t have to play the game. Just do what you’re comfortable with and breathe.”

“Okay.” I cross my hands over my chest. “Warrior mode set.”

He flashes the hand motion before climbing out. I could watch him squeeze his big frame through that narrow kart opening all day. It’s equal parts masculine strength and athletic agility, a hypnotizing show all on its own.

Hayes offers a hand to help me out, and I’m soon lodged against him again.

I’d take advantage of this lull and enjoy him while I work up the nerve for my next task if all remaining racers weren’t already in their karts.

The crowd has thinned out, and the countdown for the next race has already begun.

There’s no time for making out or second-guessing.

I pick the pink kart to show my fear where to stick it in style and secure my seatbelt.

My heart is screaming for my brain to come to its senses and stop me when Hayes leans down, his hands braced on the kart’s frame. “Want me to ride with you?”

An absolutely populates but I need to do this on my own. Show him and myself that I’m not completely hopeless.

“Thank you, but I’ve got this.”

His pride in me shines as he strolls to the spectator side of the platform.

A whistle sounds, letting us know the race will start soon, and my heart kicks up a few gears. I blow Hayes a kiss for a distraction and tap my chest with my other hand. Breathe in. Breathe out.

From where he stands, I hope he sees the brave me and not the unsteady mess clawing at my insides and trying to stop this madness.

I need to do this. Hayes’ idea to help me rip my fear off like a bandage was a good one.

But now that I’m behind the wheel, nightmares of my parents’ crash start playing before me.

The wreckage, the sorrow, the emptiness that followed.

And then there’s Jordan’s accident. He spent several weeks in the hospital, his heart stopping three times before he stabilized.

I stood by helpless not knowing if he’d ever come back to me when he was wheeled away for multiple surgeries and again when seizures tormented his body afterward.

So, yeah. I’m not only scared of driving. I hate it with every fiber of my soul, but it’s time I stop letting it control my life.

I grip the steering wheel with both hands, and when the green light flashes, I slam my foot onto the gas pedal.

Take that, fear.

The kart jerks forward with a screech, and I let out the tension with a scream so loud it surprises even me. Around the first corner, the wheels skid, but I recover quickly, letting off the gas a bit.

Other karts zip past me, but I don’t care. I’m driving! I stared down the demon of fear and didn’t back down. The crashes, the hospital stays, and the brokenness I loosely repaired over time try to grind their way back, but they don’t win this time.

Yanking the steering wheel to the right, I’m coming up to the spot where Hayes awaits. He jumps and cheers as I approach, both arms punching the air in celebration. I swear moisture lines his eyes, and my heart swells so much it hurts. He’s proud of me.

For once, I’m proud of myself, too. Proud to be here by his side. I couldn’t have done this without him. If it were possible, twelve years wouldn’t have passed before I took the wheel again.

On the final lap, I catch Hayes snapping a picture of me as I cross the finish line. I may have come in dead last, but it’s a victory to me. I didn’t just face my fear. I squashed it like a bug on the windshield. And Hayes stands proudly in my winner’s circle. What could be better than this?

The kart sputters to a stop, and he's already there, scooping me up like a champion claiming his prize.

“You did it,” he whispers against my hair.

I cling to him, relishing how good this achievement and this man feels.

“How does it feel?”

“Amazing.”

“Want to ride some more or get started on that reward we talked about?” His voice has a raspy, I-want-you tone, and as much as I’d love to be wrapped up in him in all the ways, we need to talk to Jordan first.

“I should probably practice a little more and better earn what you’re hinting at. ”

He winks and sets me down. “Okay. Race ya!” He jogs down the platform and stops beside a hideous yellow car, his foot perched on the hood.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

His gives me the hottest, yet devilish smile. “I would, and I am.” He disappears inside the kart, and I wish I knew which color he loathed so I could pay him back. But I’m loving the sunny day shining in him far too much and stick with my lucky pink kart.

This stop on our journey has accomplished more than one mission and released us both from our burdens . . . if only temporarily. But I pray for this peace to take root and never stop growing.

◆◆◆

I didn’t finish close to the leaders in the second or third race, but I had fun. Not to mention, Hayes hasn’t stopped smiling yet, and not one drop of alcohol was involved.

I elect to give my arms and hands a break for the last race before closing and ride with Hayes. He goes slower around all six laps, relaxing into me and enjoying the moment. Wouldn’t it be nice to sit close like this during all the hours we spend in the van?

Holding on to each other around the sharp curves feels like a physical representation of our journey so far. We feed off each other, providing comfort, peace, and safety, and we pick up where the other leaves off.

We are stronger together. We fit. It’s that simple .

I just hope Jordan agrees and doesn’t add a speed bump at our downhill coast to push us off course. It’s a possibility I don’t want to think about and ruin our bliss.

On the walk to the van, I step on something hard, and it reminds me. “Hayes, stop.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” He zeroes in on every crevice and hidden area around us, on the hunt for whatever spooked me.

I grab his arm to set him at ease, then pick up the weathered piece of concrete I’d stepped on. Not what I was hoping for. “We forgot Ava’s rock.”

“Shit.” He checks his watch. “The park closes in fifteen minutes.”

“We better hurry.”

We split up to cover more area, but the prairie grass and clay dirt don’t provide many options. With our phone lights, we crouch close to the ground and move around the facility. I find several rocks but nothing smooth until I get down on my knees and crawl along the edge of the patio.

My hand flies to it like it might roll away if I didn’t snatch it up. I call Hayes over. “Will this work?”

He takes the rock, examines all sides, then twirls me around.

“I take that as a yes.” I giggle, his joy filling my heart, until he swallows the sound with a kiss.

“Let’s go find the campground and celebrate right.”

I feel more than joy, something intense and urgent, coming from him now.

But we haven’t talked to Jordan about our situationship, and I’m wondering if we should slow down.

Then again, his hard body pressed to mine has me wondering how he’d feel in a lot of other ways without all these layers between us.

“What do you have in mind, Cowboy?”

“I'd rather show you.”

◆◆◆

Minutes after leaving the adventure park, I’m not snug in Hayes’ arms. We’re not exploring each other in tantalizing new ways in the back of the van. We’re not even kissing.

Instead, I’m standing in the cookie aisle of a sketchy, half-lit grocery store, clutching a box of graham crackers while Hayes scans the shelves with military focus.

I can't decide if I'm relieved we haven’t broken any bro codes yet or sorely disappointed. I can’t decide.

“ This is how you want to celebrate?” I ask as we travel down the aisle.

“What better way than with s’mores?”

I could think of a dozen better ways off the top of my head—most involving far fewer clothes and his hands on my body—but his boyish, heart-stealing joy has the protest dissolving on my tongue.

“Absolutely nothing,” I concede, and he flashes me a look that promises trouble later.

Worth it.

We hunt down the marshmallows and chocolate bars, and stock up on waters and random essentials before heading toward the RV park .

After quick showers to scrub off the fossil dig dust and sweat from our skin, Hayes does his magic with the fire.

It's all I can do to not combust along with the logs.

Teddy bear Hayes warms my heart, but manly, outdoorsman Hayes flares a flame inside me stronger than the one heating the cool night air.

The shredded muscle flexing with every movement, the rough scrape of his stubble, the way the firelight catches the black and gray tattoo on his massive bicep, the flames flickering in his irises. It’s a lethal combination.

He catches me watching him and flexes a pec before dropping the last log onto the fire.

I roll my eyes, laughing, but inside, I’m trembling with the need to touch him. To climb into his lap and finish what’s been simmering between us all day. To claim him with more than just words.

When the embers spark into a steady blaze, we roast marshmallows on long tree limbs, trading jokes and loaded glances. We’re one spark away from losing control, and we both know it.

Before I can take a bite of my perfectly assembled s’more, Hayes stops me.

He holds his next to mine, his pinky brushing against my skin, and snaps a photo with his phone.

That tiny touch zips straight to my core.

It doesn’t take much from him to send me over the edge.

I’m hyperaware of his every subtle movement now.

“You don’t strike me as someone who takes pictures of their food before they eat.” I try to sound casual, hoping our usual banter will bring back some of my control. “Do you have a secret foodie blog I’m not aware of?”

Burden shadows his grin. “Ava likes to know what I’m doing at all times.”

“Is that why you took a photo of me driving the go-kart?”

“No. That was for me.” He sets down the phone to pick up his s’more and winks at me. “I also sent it to Jordan.”

“Oh.” I nearly choke on my bite. “That should generate some questions.”

“He must be busy. I haven’t heard from him yet.”

“Weird.” Something shifts in the air at the mention of my brother and the secret we’re keeping from him. “I’m ready to tell him if you are.”

He studies me while he chews. “I don’t think I will ever be ready for that. But it’s wrong to keep hiding this from him.”

“Agreed.” I abandon my half-eaten treat and grab my phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him.”

He shakes his head. “The conversation needs to come from me.”

“Why? We’re equally involved.”

“I need to ask him. Man to man.” His jaw flexes, telling me I can’t negotiate this.

I try anyway. “I’m a grown woman, Hayes. He doesn’t tell me what I can and cannot do. ”

He leans in, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, mingling with the crackling fire. “He’s my friend and bro code designates the protocol.”

“You guys and your codes. Fine. But if he so much as hesitates, I’m telling him. Not asking.”

“I love the conviction, but you’re not losing your only remaining family over me.” He surges forward, stealing a kiss before I can stop him. It’s the punctuation mark to his own demand.

He pulls away just as fast, knowing that if he lingers, there will be no stopping us. Not tonight. And Jordan needs to know first.

Leaning back in his chair, confidence and contentment relaxes his usually stiff frame. Both look good on him.

“He’d get over it . . . eventually.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He concentrates on the fire for a few minutes before rising sharply and running a hand through his messy hair.

“Where are you going?”

“To call Jordan. You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“Not even a smidge.”

He pauses beside my chair, like he’s memorizing me in this moment in case his conversation with Jordan changes everything. Then, he shakes his head and disappears into the night, leaving me with nothing but the impossible ache of waiting for whatever comes next.