Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 Mph (4 page)

"Alexis?"

"Yeah, Seth, it’s me, who did you think it was?" for the record, drunken sarcasm doesn’t make you sound too intelligent.

"You don’t sound like yourself," it sort of took the wind out of my sails when he sounded sincerely worried. My anger came back tenfold, though, when he asked, "What’s wrong? Are you okay? Has something happened?" I winced, remembering the last time he had asked me that.

"Bad choice of words, Seth… I’m actually just fine and dandy, better than fine, I’m
fab-u-lous
, no thanks to you!" My sorority sisters were nodding at me with encouragement as I slurred my way through the tirade. You’re a self righteous son of a bitch, you know that? How could you leave me like that, without even a word to me? Shit, even drunk frat boys around here at least pause to say, ‘hey, babe, you were good, I’ll call ya.’ And while they may not call
most
girls, they
do
call ME. Why? Because I am HOT! And I am fun to be with in bed and out of bed, and I’m smart. So, you just better know that I may have wanted to die over you for a long time, but I don’t anymore!"

"Alexis," he tried to interrupt me, but I wouldn’t let him.

"Why didn’t you call or write or freaking email me? I was seventeen for frak’s sake, you had to have known how it would affect me. How stupid could you be? I can’t even…"

"Alexis!" he yelled. When I shut up long enough to hear him, he calmly said three words that took me back to square one: "I’m getting married."

I clutched at my chest. It burned a hole right through me. I couldn’t even speak, I couldn’t move, my hand fell away from my face. My sorority big sis, Chelsea, had her ear to the phone listening to the conversation. She took the phone from my hand and hunched over me. "Lex, Lex look at me." I looked up, but couldn’t see her through the tears streaming out of my eyes. I heard her say to the other girls, "The bastard is getting married!" Then, I had arms around me and another drink in my hand.

I could just hear Chelsea say, "Seth?" "Oh, yeah, she’s doing just great, you asshole… Who am I? I’m the one who pulled her out of being suicidal the first time you broke her heart… No, honey,
I’m
completely sober. How could you do this to her... Well I’m looking at her right now and I can sure tell you it had
such
a great effect that you told her yourself… No, I really don’t believe that you give a damn about her… When you finally show it, I’ll believe it, you selfish prick." After that, I only remember a bottle of Tequila between my hands.

The next morning Chelsea popped her head into my room at the sorority house. She had spent the past week with us there, visiting, since she moved an hour away to Santa Barbara after graduating the year before.

"I’m fine," I tried to smile, but it made my head pound more. "Really, I’m upset with myself for still having feelings for him, but he was bound to move on, he never loved me." Ugh! That sounded so pathetic. I wished I was just feeling sorry for myself, but it was the truth.

"Don’t go blaming yourself again. We can’t help who we fall for. Remember, Gray? What a jerk! If I could have stopped myself from falling for him, I would have. We just don’t have that power. You have to accept that."

"I know you’re right, I just… I don’t know. I can’t make my brain work."

"Here," she handed me a bottle of water and some aspirin. She looked genuinely concerned. What had I said last night after the eventful phone call?

"Why don’t you come and stay with me for a few months? I have plenty of room. It could be like the good ole days." My sophomore year, I shared a room with Chelsea in the sorority house. It was a ridiculous amount of fun since our personalities were so similar, and she was always more like the older sister I had never had.

"I’ll be fine, I promise." Despite the shaky exhaustion I could hear in my own voice, I actually meant it. I would be fine, eventually. Really, I expected him to move on, I knew it was coming I just wasn’t prepared for my own reaction to it. I thought I was over him. Besides, I think this will help me accept it more quickly and move on."

"I’m just worried. I have no doubt you are capable of moving on, I just really worry about you going home to do it, with him there. I worry about you."

On the plane ride home, my nerves and the general unease of flying began to affect me. I opened my purse to get a piece of gum and found a large envelope. Inside was a picture of me surrounded by cute frat guys. It was from the tiny wet bikini contest, which I had won. The note attached read:

"What’s that?" my brother looked over at the note. He picked up the picture of me, and his eyes just about popped out of his head. "Tiny wet bikini contest? Do I want to know what this is all about?"

"Oh, Desmond," I smiled for the first time since he greeted me at graduation. "There are a lot of details about the past four years that you don’t want to know about."

"Well, at least you’re smiling again."

He’s right
, I told myself, I should be smiling. Ace was right, I was confident and sexy. I let myself forget who I was. I let Seth make me forget. Why should I allow him to do that to me? I vowed not to allow it again. With that, I closed my eyes and slept peacefully until we reached the East Coast.

I had come home for holidays every year and had been back for a few weeks in the summers, but coming home for good was a surprisingly comforting experience. As I walked through the front door, I was confronted with memories and feelings; warmth and love; happiness and humor; sadness and loss. It was a mixed bag of sorts, but it was
my
mixed bag. Things hadn’t always gone right in this house, but I had never felt unwanted or uncomfortable with Wyatt as my uncle-figure and Desmond as my lifelong caretaker. Seth, well, I wasn’t going to go there. That’s where the pain lived, and I didn’t want it to overwhelm the feeling that this place belonged to me, and I belonged to it.

"Hey, sis. So, I was thinking that I’d grill something for dinner for the three of us then we can hang out and get caught up, maybe watch a movie or something?" Just the three of us? Where was Seth? Who cares though, right?

"Sounds good. I miss your cooking, Des. Can you make that chicken with the herb rub and those potatoes?"

"Already got the ingredients," he smiled. He had been cooking for me since our mother passed away and there were several dishes that I craved whenever I was away from him for any length of time. His grilled chicken was one of them. I didn’t know what he put on those potatoes, but there seemed to be no recreating them; it was a Desmond secret dish.

"Well, you
are
pretty thin, sweetie," Wyatt interjected from the doorway.

"I’ve been thinner," I chuckled about their over-protectiveness. I had meant it as a vague comment, but immediately realized my mistake. It was clear from the wide-eyed did-she-just-mention-the-elephant-in-the-room look on their faces that they were remembering my bout of not eating after my dad died and after Seth left me. Did they still think I was in a "delicate state?" I would have to break them of that if I were going to have any kind of peace here.

"Look guys, you’re starting to annoy the living daylights out of me. I’m an adult now, and I appreciate your concern and know that if it were the version of me that left this house four years ago standing before you now, your concern would be entirely necessary.
But
, I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and," I put some strength and power behind my voice as I looked them dead in the eyes, "perfectly willing to put both of you in your places should you continue this overbearing behavior." Softly, I smiled and added, "So
chill
, okay?"

Wyatt and Desmond looked at each other and exchanged a look I could only describe as vaguely reassured and slightly ashamed. Not sticking around for a comment, I grabbed my suitcase and hauled it upstairs without the slightest struggle.

Walking into my bedroom felt exhilarating. It was home. This was where I was me, where it was always okay to be or feel whatever I wanted to. Looking around, it all seemed to be the same as I had left it. The color on the walls was a light periwinkle, and the bookcases contained memorabilia from all stages of my life. Pictures of Desmond and me looked back at me along with my favorite images of my mom and dad. I ran my finger across the edges of the picture frames remembering each moment the photographs captured. My childhood pink elephant stuffed animal sat on one of the shelves, and I couldn’t resist picking him up and hugging him to me.

I carried Pinkie (I know, not very original name, but give me a break, I was four) over to my bed and sat down. A picture of Desmond, Seth, and me in the winner’s circle at one of Seth’s late model races sat on the nightstand beside my bed. Like a shock to my system, the memories of the night Seth and I made love came flooding back into my brain like an elastic band that had been stretched to its limit for years. I hugged Pinkie closer and shot up off the bed.
Unpack; I need to get my mind off him
.

Over dinner, the three of us talked about everything and anything. Wyatt and Desmond seemed to be very careful not to mention Seth, so I went ahead and broke the ice by asking what Seth’s fiancée was like. I knew that Desmond was often worse than my sorority sisters in talking about others behind their backs, and he didn’t disappoint me. I learned that Alexandria (that was her name) did not impress Desmond in the least. Wyatt did his best to keep the conversation polite, but Desmond’s bad-mouthing of Alexandria made it very difficult to remain polite and downright impossible to keep a straight face.

I found myself satisfied in the idea that Seth had roped himself into a relationship with a total witch, but my satisfaction served only to fuel guilt and self-doubt. Hadn’t I forgiven him? Why would I want him to suffer if I had truly forgiven him? The answer to that question stared me stupidly in the face, but I resisted the information, trying to remain ignorant to my own feelings. I worked very hard at listening to Desmond talk about inviting his friends over to the house to go out on the lake the following day to party. He mentioned that Seth would be there with his fiancée, and I willed myself to smile and nod. I would see him tomorrow whether I was ready or not.

"You must be the kid sister?" a tall blonde asked me, putting out her hand to shake mine.

"
Desmond’s
… yes." I answered, a little shorter than I had intended.

"Oh, sorry, I should know that. But they’ve referred to you as their kid sister for so many years, that I momentarily forgot that you and Seth aren’t blood relatives. I’m really sorry about that."

She was very kind and genuine, so I had no trouble accepting her somewhat unnecessary apology and was about to offer up a friendly reassurance when Desmond incited my anger all the more.

"It’s not your fault, Christina," Desmond walked closer and closer to Christina, then closer still, invading her personal space. He whispered flirtatiously to her before turning back to me. "Seth has called you his 'kid sister' for the past four years."

I rolled my eyes trying to look as if I found the situation humorous and smiled in an attempt to mask the frustration and embarrassment. "Kid sister?"
Seriously
? I was never his "sister" and being called a "kid" when all you really wanted to do was launch into a professional make-out session with that person really hurt the pride. I sucked it up, though, and smiled my way through the uncomfortable and infuriating moment.

"Well," said a hunky blonde-haired, brown-eyed man who was much taller than I was and had a husky, masculine voice. "If it’s any consolation,
I
could never mistake you for a 'kid sister.'"
Well thank you!
I thought, feeling validated. He stepped forward and put his hand out, taking mine and kissing the back of it. "I’m Brad. It’s a
pleasure
to meet you." Something about the way he drawled out the word "pleasure" sent a wave of desire through my body. Oh yeah, this guy was smooth. A connection definitely existed between the two of us. It wasn’t any of that swept-me-off-my-feet hysteria, but it was nice, and it made my heart pound to a quick rhythm.

"I could also be mistaken, Desmond, but this sexy lady here looks nothing like a kid."

"Okay guys," Desmond stepped closer to me, "I get it, but remember that she is still
my
sister, so watch it."