Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 Mph (7 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Montague

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 Mph
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"Lex… Lex? Wake up, baby," I tried to focus, but my mind was busy obsessing over the fact that Seth had just called me "baby." The way he said it was amazing. He
had
to still love me; the emotion behind that word couldn’t just be mere coincidence. As I regained use of the portions of my brain not currently obsessing over Seth, I fuzzily began to realize that I was now on my bed, half naked and cradled in Seth’s warm, strong, loving arms. I rubbed my cheek against his chest and felt his sharp intake of breath and his body tense as he disentangled himself from me and got up off the bed. Full awareness hit me like a train, and I wanted to hide under the covers. I was sure every square inch of my body had to be blushing at that moment. Had I seriously just been cuddling with him as he platonically tried to take care of my injuries? What a moron! Where was my brain? Oh yea, still snuggling with Seth. Ugh!

"Have you eaten anything this morning? We need to get some food in you."

Gathering the courage, I looked up at him to see his eyes focused on my thigh. I followed his gaze to where the towel had failed in its main purpose of covering me up, separating to expose the skin from the side of my upper thigh straight up to my waist. He certainly seemed to be transfixed on the view, but he was a guy, and if you put some skin out there for a guy to look at, he’s going to look. His eyes finally moved from my thigh back up to meet with mine and did I… is that really… it couldn’t be… desire?
Well, well, well, what do ya know?
I thought to myself arrogantly before pulling the towel back to cover my hip. Maybe I wasn’t such an idiot after all. He still wanted me. I had to bite down on my lips to keep from smiling the enormous grin I was dying to show, but I managed to control myself.

"I’ll go see if I can… uh… get some… I mean, make us some… breakfast… without being turned on… the power, I mean."
Little Freudian slip there, Seth
? He was clearly flustered, and I was doing my best not to enjoy it. "Get dressed," he added a little harshly before walking toward the door.

Once he turned his back to me, I let out the elated smile I had been holding in. I got dressed as quickly as possible in a frothy white skirt that reached my knees and a dark blue tank top with lacy straps. I slipped on a pair of white flip-flops since they were the only thing that really kept your feet cool in the hot North Carolina summers and didn’t get completely destroyed in the rain of the thunderstorms.

Slowly, and with great care, I carried myself downstairs one step at a time. It wasn’t until I got nearly to the last step that I noticed Seth waiting for me at the bottom, watching me. Suddenly nervous, my flip-flops impeded my not so natural grace, and I practically stumbled down the final few steps recovering only because Seth caught me in his arms.

"Sorry, I guess I’m still a little wobbly," as if to illustrate my point, I could feel my hands shaking, the traitorous limbs. To him, I hoped it looked as though I was shaking due to the injury, but there was no point in lying to myself, I knew I was shaking because he was holding me. If I could just stay here forever, life would be perfect.

"You cut yourself pretty good there. I’m not surprised you’re still shaken. You were never good with injuries." He was chuckling again…
at me
, not with me.

"Do you have to keep reminding me of my shortcomings?" I did my best to sound pissed off instead of hurt. Although, if I were being honest with myself, it did sting a little to have him keep pointing out my flaws.

"Actually, I always thought it was kinda cute," he smiled down at me, but when my surprised eyes met his, his face became serious, and I could tell he regretted the statement. "I mean, you’ve always been a cute kid." Argh! I should have sensed that one coming, but did he have to keep taking it back to that level? "Anyhow, we’re out of cereal, and the stove is electric, so we’re going out for breakfast. You still look really pale."

I nodded, agreeing that it was necessary I eat.

During the ride to the small local diner we had practically lived at for years when I was younger, and all throughout breakfast, we kept up a relaxed conversation. We talked about Desmond and his antics over the years and his involvement as Seth’s public relations manager. We talked about Wyatt and the very few women he had dated. It was comfortable conversation, that is, until the topic turned to Brad.

"So, you’re going out of town this weekend?" Seth asked out of nowhere.

"Huh?" confused by the sudden shift in topics, I stared at him blankly. He was clearly attempting to sound casual, but he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. He was spinning his straw round and round in his glass, and his voice sounded a little strained.

"The Outer Banks? Brad told me he was taking you there this weekend."

"I didn’t know you guys discussed me." Was I supposed to feel comfortable that the two of them were discussing me, because I sure as heck wasn’t. I wanted Seth to think that my relationship with Brad was progressing at a normal pace instead of the complete standstill I had stopped us at in terms of our physical relationship and even in terms of our emotional level.

"He tells me there isn’t much to tell. He’s a decent guy, I guess, but he did mention this romantic weekend he has planned." Oh great, now if I didn’t go, Seth would know that it was because I didn’t want a "romantic weekend," and if I did go, Brad would want something I wasn’t ready to give. What a crappy situation I had gotten myself into. "You know, you don’t have to go," he stared at his glass.

Wait… What? Why was he saying this? Did he not
want
me to go?
Don’t get your hopes up, don’t jump to conclusions.

"I… uh… haven’t decided yet. Why? You don’t think I should go?" I couldn’t look up at him, my heart wanted him to say "hell no!" so badly that I knew he would read it right in my eyes.

"Well, you should just, you know, take it slowly, no need to rush into anything." He didn’t want me to sleep with him.
Yes!
I thought,
he still wants me, he’s jealous!
I looked up at him and my heart did a little happy dance. I couldn’t hold back a smile, and he smiled in response.

"Can I get you anything else?" our waitress asked. Seth and I shook our heads, and he slid out of the booth grabbing my hand to help me up. I smiled at him again, and he winked at me setting off my pulse at a quickened pace. He really didn’t know how handsome he was.

The second we exited the diner, we were bombarded by two unexpected photographers, one with a video camera. "Who’s this Seth? A new girlfriend? What about your fiancé, Seth?" I looked at them and looked at Seth who had his hand on the small of my back pushing me toward the car. It was pouring down rain, and we were getting soaked as they blocked our path to the car.

"Look, I’ll give you a few answers if you move out of the way and at least let me get her in the car." His negotiations worked, and he walked me to the passenger side helping me into the car before closing the door and turning back to the two hounds from hell.

"Who is she Seth? She’s hot, does your fiancée know about her?" I could hear the barrage of questions since they had Seth pushed up against the passenger window as they took pictures of him
.

"Yes, my fiancée knows about her, she’s my kid sister. Sorry to disappoint you guys, but she just got home from college in California, and we were out enjoying a nice breakfast. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s pouring down out here." They moved out of the way, thanked him for his time and continued taking pictures until he climbed into the car.

I stared out the window.
She’s my kid sister
, the words echoed in my brain over and over again. Not five minutes ago he seemed a little jealous. Didn’t he? Had I imagined it all?
She’s my kid sister
, damn it, I was not his damn "kid sister!" Would he never stop referring to me as that? He didn’t try to draw me back into any sort of conversation on the drive home; he just let me fume in silence.

When he pulled into the garage, I got out of the car and stomped, despite my injured leg, toward the door. He caught me by the arm and looked into my face.

"What’s wrong?"

I just rolled my eyes and looked away from him.

"Your bandage is all wet," he was staring down at my leg. "Do you want me to change it for you, looks like there’s still some blood?"

"No," I said rudely and angrily, "I don’t need you to treat me like a child!"

"What the hell is the matter?"

I yanked my arm free from his grasp and said with strong, quiet anger pointing a harsh finger in his face, "You listen and you listen good ‘cause this is the last time I’m gonna remind you, I am
not
your damn
sister
and I am sure as hell
not
a
kid
!" I stormed away, satisfied by the fact that he looked as if I had just slapped him across the face. Maybe he finally got the point.

I pounded my way up the stairs and yanked my cell phone out of my purse. I sent Brad a text message saying, "I’d love to go away with you this weekend, what time are you picking me up?" It was surely a mistake to allow my anger to guide my choices, but in that moment I didn’t care. I was tired of whatever this game was that I was playing with Seth here.

6 Shit or Get off the Pot
 

 

When Seth came home the Monday night after Brad and I had spent the weekend together, he seemed angry with me. I had gotten back the previous night, but since Seth was racing, he hadn’t been home. I was thankful for that because I was pretty upset.

I was upset with myself for not being able to sleep with Brad. He was a nice guy and handsome, and we had a good time together, but the spark wasn’t there. I had had this issue when I was at college and was able to carry on a pretty decent relationship despite the reminder buried deep inside me that what I had with Seth was way beyond anything I had with anyone else. Being so close to Seth, though, being reminded that this spark still existed and seemed to exist, at least on some level, for him too, made it impossible for me to just lose myself in the moment with Brad.

I felt horrible for leading Brad on and wound up continuing the lie I had started when we first started dating. I told him I had just gotten out of a relationship and wasn’t sure I was ready to move onto a serious relationship again. He said he would wait, because that’s what nice guys do, and he was certainly frustrated this weekend, but remained a gentleman even though we slept
in the same bed.

I was sitting at the computer in the den replying to Chelsea’s bluntly put advice on the Brad situation: "Shit or get off the pot," when Seth stormed into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. I nearly jumped a mile. I turned wide eyes on him and watched his face turn from clear anger to embarrassment as he noticed me watching him. He shrugged at me sheepishly.

"The gang is coming over tonight," he seemed annoyed. Then through gritted teeth, he added, "
Brad
is on his way." He certainly wasn’t pleased with Brad for some reason, and I was sick and tired of guessing why. I shut down the computer and went upstairs to change into a cute blue dress.

Several hours later, Desmond came bounding into the kitchen with his arms folded across his chest staring knowingly at me. "You’re withholding information from me, aren’t you?"

Crap! He knew I was still in love with Seth. He must know. But why was he smiling? He wouldn’t be smiling if he had found out about my feelings for Seth. He would be all concerned and severe. I gave him a what-are-you-talking-about look.

"Brad… the weekend… you know!" I didn’t know. I was lost. He walked over to the counter where I was cutting up some more lemons for the beer and leaned against it. "Seth, Brad, Greg and I were talking and Greg was being his typical prick of a self asking for details about how you are in bed. I was gonna punch him, but I knew Brad wouldn’t say anything. He finally did say that you weren’t up to the same speed as Greg. Greg was confused, like always, and Brad explained by saying you were a real s-l-o-w mover." I slammed the knife down on the counter. Damn it! I didn’t want
Seth
to know that! "I’m proud of you for holding out, sis, but uh… I just wanted to check on you, it’s not ‘cause, you know?" He was referring to Seth, and hell yes, it was because of him. Who else would it be about? I couldn’t tell Desmond that, though. I folded my arms in front of my chest, stalling. "I mean, Seth looked all smug and satisfied after he heard that, so you aren’t, I mean the two of you…?"

"No! Of course not!" and this time, I didn’t have to lie. Seth looked smug and satisfied! I should go out there and screw Brad in front of everyone just to shut him up. Jerk. He didn’t want me, but didn’t want anyone else to have me either. Jerk, jerk, jerk!

"Okay, good, I was just a little worried." He turned and walked back to the doorway, "hurry up with that, we’re going to play pool."

I finished brutally slicing the lemons and brought some beers out for everyone. Seth, I noticed was smiling and seemed to be happy for the first time since he got home the night before. Jerk. I downed my beer as quickly as I could, and Brad came to stand next to me, his arm casually around my shoulders. Seth smirked at me. I nearly walked over and smacked it off his face, but instead, I turned into Brad and kissed his neck. Brad was surprised, but went along with it, pulling my face up to kiss him.

After a lot more PDA and enough beers to cut off that annoying good angel voice in my head, I found myself dancing raunchily with Brad while Seth attempted to ignore me and play pool. He didn’t succeed very well, his eyes constantly wandering over to where I was grinding up against Brad. Christina and Desmond were doing their own version of fully clothed dance floor sex next to us.

I was enjoying pissing Seth off until Greg won the pool game and came over to pester us. "Girl, if yo’ daddy was here, he’d tan your behind but good to see you dancing like that!" I smiled at his comment and tried to let it roll off my shoulders without taking in the reference to my dad
. Don’t think about it, you’re having fun.
I told myself.

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