Page 23 of Wrecking Boundaries (SteelTrack Racing #2)

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asks.

“Eating dinner, the same as you. Are you waiting for someone?”

“He’s running late.” Sarah rubs her lips together and avoids meeting my eyes. “I asked him here.”

Guilt pricks again. She probably believes Martin is standing her up. Checking my phone is the only way to know for sure, but that would give away the game.

Her eyes finally meet mine, and I’m again reminded of her brother Boone. They share the same penetrating expression that makes me uncomfortable, like they understand something I don’t.

“You’re on a date? Let me guess. It’s that guy you told me about. Insurance or sales or something.” This situation is my doing, and I’m jealous of a guy who doesn’t exist.

“Martin.” Her lips pucker before her features soften. “It’s not a date, at least not like you think it is.”

“Then explain.” There’s an unintended sharpness to my voice. I force myself to relax and smile encouragingly. “I’m not angry if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wouldn’t care if you were,” she says, and I draw back with surprise, which she notices. “This isn’t for you. It’s for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve been doubting myself for a long time.”

“You shouldn’t,” I say, butting in before she goes further. “Never doubt yourself. ”

“You always say that, but saying and doing aren’t the same, Jake.”

“I’m confused.”

“Martin and I have shared messages since the season started, off and on. It’s been off for the two weeks since we started, and I didn’t miss him. He’s not like you, he’s very…. ordinary. You are many things, Jake, but you’re not that.”

“That’s a nice compliment,” I say before realizing she may not have meant it as one. “Is that what you want?”

“That’s a complicated question.”

“The hell it is.” I know the answer, too. If it were complicated, Sarah wouldn’t have trusted me with her past or invested so much of herself into my career plans.

She frowns at my vehement response. “We texted while watching reality shows. He doesn’t follow sports and is content to live a typical life. The hassle of life on the road, the constant spotlight, all of it would be gone. I’d never have to question why he’s with me. You ignore every boundary I set.”

“That’s because I know we belong together.” That earns me another glower. It’s the same expression Boone wears, and it doesn’t scare me, either. Her narrowed eyes show the gold flecks in them. I smile right back at her. “So, answer my question then. Is that what you want?”

Sarah rubs her lips again. “I think he’s stood me up, and I don’t even care.”

Her blunt statement surprises me. I expected a sharp answer and deflection, not a vulnerable truth. I take her hand and squeeze. “Thanks for telling me.” I lean back and smile. “This works out well. I get to come to my princess’ rescue again. Bonus: I get to play the prince who nobly forgives you.”

She rolls her eyes. “There you are.”

“Here I am, the perfect man for you.”

“Here you are, running right over my boundaries again. I still need time, Jake. You showing up like this doesn’t change that.” Sarah pulls her hand from mine. “Why are you here again?”

“Call it fate.”

Her eyes narrow. “Were you following me?”

Her question is eerily close to the truth. “No.” A flat denial seems best. If I flounder around, she’ll keep on sniffing.

Sarah’s eyes narrow further. She’s frowning now, too.

“Random chance,” I say. “It happens. I wasn’t in the mood to eat at home. Now that I’m here, let’s have dinner together. It’s not a big deal.”

A server comes, and we each order a glass of wine.

Sarah doesn’t explicitly accept my offer but peruses the menu. It’s progress, and I’ll take it.

“Now that I’m here, I’d like to explain about Sunday’s wreck. You haven’t given me a chance to do that yet.”

She asked me to leave her alone, which I ignored. She also asked me to retell the post-wreck argument. Neither Boone nor I emerged looking spectacular, so I rate it as a draw.

Sarah looks away, confirming my suspicion that she blames me for everything. It’s not unfair of her, either. “I thought there was a good chance of squeaking out a win, so I moved quickly to the inside lane and lost control. It took your brother out, too, and I’m sorry for that.”

After rewatching the tape, my gamble looks even worse. If it were another driver, I would have yelled at the screen and called him an idiot for even attempting something so dumb. It was apparent I would only cause both cars to wreck out so neither could finish the race.

The part that bothers me most is that Boone Rivers is right. I am a better driver than that. He may dislike me, but he acknowledged my skill, or he did until we yelled at each other in the back of an ambulance .

“Wrecks happen, Jake. It’s part of the job; I’ve grown up knowing that. I told Maddie about us right before it happened. I told her everything.” Sarah pauses and takes a deep breath. “She promised to help make everything right with my brother. She offered to host dinner for us if you can believe it. Then, you pulled some crazy move, and his car flipped eight times. Maddie started crying, and she never cries. She promised help and was paid back by seeing him wrecked out. That feels oddly symbolic, don’t you think?”

“Symbolic of what?” I’m confused again.

“Will it always be like that? Are you two going after each other forever and ever? Will our entire relationship require her to run interference for us?

I get it, I do, but that’s Sarah letting her guilt speak. “I think that’s bullshit.” Sarah’s chin stubbornly juts out. This conversation is quickly veering off-course. “I get why she was upset, and I understand why you feel guilty,” I start, wanting to try again. “All I can say is that it won’t get better if you’re unwilling to try. Can’t we forgive each other and move on?”

“Forgive each other for what?” she asks with genuine confusion.

“I know you told Boone that BP Racing is closing shop, and it’s fine. You care for your family; I get that, too. I’m not angry.”

Sarah stills. “I didn’t tell him anything; I wouldn’t.”

“We messed up, but so what? You and me, we’re it. You’re it for me, do you get that? You’re the one.”

“Jake.”

I don’t stop, wanting to press my case. She’s in front of me, and I’m not quitting now. “No, listen to me. Look at how well we work together, for fuck’s sake. You’re doing amazing stuff, and I know my career will benefit.”

Fuck.

Sometimes, a person’s brain will tell them to drive recklessly off a cliff, while the other part of their brain tells them to stop being an idiot. Meanwhile, your body keeps moving forward, and you’re unable to stop it.

I’m in the middle of one of those moments.

“I didn’t mean that,” I say. It may be too late; words can’t be easily unsaid.

“First, I’m telling your secrets, and also, I benefit your career. Which is it, Jake?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The car is officially driving off the cliff.

“I think it is.” Sarah’s features shudder. The fight leaves her body as she slumps into her seat. “I have to go.”

The Car lands in the canyon and instantly turns into a fireball. There are no survivors.

She stands and leaves.

I move to follow when the server brings the glasses of wine we ordered. Shit.

I hastily pull cash from my wallet and chase after her, just in time to see Sarah driving away.

At least I know where she lives this time.

∞∞∞

I catch up to Sarah in front of her apartment door and quickly take the keys from her hands. “You can’t lock me out this way,” I say, opening the door for us both.

She enters, with me following behind. I lock the door and toss her keys onto a nearby table.

Her small apartment perfectly reflects her personality. She presents her prickly side to the world, but to the precious few she trusts, the real Sarah comes out. A stack of romance novels sits on a coffee table. A collection of delicate tea cups rests on custom shelving. Rich, green plants can be found everywhere.

I’m going to ask her to decorate our home someday. She could paint it all pink, and I’d love it.

“You followed me,” she says like she doesn’t fully believe it.

“What else did you expect me to do? I’m great at everything except quitting.”

Sarah silently mouths those last two words before abruptly tossing her purse on a chair and going to the kitchen.

I follow. “What are you doing?”

“Hoping to find some alcohol so I can get hammered before passing out on the bathroom floor.”

“Sarah.”

She says my name, but it only comes out as an angry screech.

“You’re not telling me to leave,” I point out.

“Why would I? You’ve ignored everything I’ve ever said. Oh, also, I’m telling your secrets, and what else? I’m great for your career.” She slams the refrigerator door shut so hard the whole thing shakes. Sarah briefly stares at it, opens the door, and repeats the action.

“Feel better?”

Her neck twists as she glares up at me. “Not even close.”

“You’re angry, I get it,” I say, following her to her living room. She moves back into the kitchen, so I follow her there, too. “I love you. I’ve loved you since, well, from our first conversation,” I quickly say before she can slam the fridge door again.

“You love me?” she asks, and I hear the doubt in her voice.

“I’ve never done this before. I may not explain myself correctly, but you know it’s the truth.”

“Are you sure about that? Think harder. ”

I’m doing this all wrong. Sarah isn’t merely angry; she’s hurting, and I’m making it worse. My sincere attempt at flattery triggered her by mistake, and my attempts at understanding are quickly turning a hole into a bottomless pit.

Sometimes, you drive the car off the cliff; other times, your brain screams loud enough for your body to hear, and you swerve just in time.

I swallow, silently admitting that I’m frightened too.

“Okay, Princess. It looks like we’re going to do this.”

“Do what?”

“We’re going to have the big fight.”