Trading Paint (Racing on the Edge) (49 page)

BOOK: Trading Paint (Racing on the Edge)
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“Are you nervous?” Emma asked Jameson while he fumbled with the hem of his shirt. He hadn’t said much tonight and as of yet, no one had called him an asshole.

“No,” he answered adjusting Lane, who had just fallen asleep on his lap. “It’s just a race.”

“You’re lying.” Spencer chuckled across from him. “It’s the Daytona 500. You’re probably shitting your pants right now.”

“Like I said
...
it’s just another race.” Jameson replied stretching his long legs out in front of him to lean back in the camping chair he was slouched in. “And I’m not
shitting
my pants.”

He was constantly being asked the same question these last few days.
“Was he scared?”

I knew he wasn’t. Nervous—maybe, definitely not scared. The thing you had to understand about Jameson was that yeah, he would show nervousness to a point, but once inside that car, he was stalwart and fearless. Inside the confines of a race car, he was a different man. Sure, he had a few sides to him, what person didn’t but the best part about him was that he never changed. Jameson would always be Jameson. I never doubted that.

You saw it all the time when someone comes into money or makes a big career move—they change. They suddenly become this distant version of themselves that no one recognizes. With all the success that Jameson has had over the years, he never changed. I heard some say, “Well he’s not approachable either.”

The thing was he has never been approachable so why would he be now?

Money and fame didn’t change that. He’d always been that way.

Old Casten had fallen asleep by now and Tommy and Spencer were making fun of the drool coming over his beard. “That’s so disgusting.” Tommy laughed.

“You boys better stop messing with him.” Jimi warned shaking his head. Jameson didn’t get his wicked temper from just anyone. Jimi could be quick tempered at times, but Casten, he put a bull to shame, much like Jameson.

“He’s asleep.” Spencer defended. “He
ain’t
gonna know.”

Glancing around, I noticed an awful lot of people had gathered outside his motor coach. I don’t know how some of these pit lizards managed to get into the compound area where the drivers were, but I had a feeling some of them sweet talked the officials at the gate. Anyhow, a few had made their way over to Jameson’s motor coach while we continued to make fun of Casten and his drooling.

They were slutty leeches and I had no don’t they were only looking for one thing. Jameson.

One of them seemed taken be Jameson and kept moving closer to him. No one paid any mind to her, as it was usual for pit lizards to be hounding him. So there she was about a foot from him and I didn’t want to steal her thunder or any entertainment out of this I would have, or Tommy and Spencer’s, so I discreetly took a seat across from them next to Jimi.  Undoubtedly, I was not thinking when I did this.

Steal her thunder you fucking idiot!

Maybe I wasn’t breathing enough and the supply of oxygen was being diverted again.

Alley came by, picked up Lane from Jameson’s lap and walked inside the motor coach out of the line of fire.

She didn’t like all the women hanging around and I couldn’t blame her, we were a bad enough influence on little Lane. I usually didn’t care for these pit lizards either but I’d had a few beers by then and was contemplating how to entertain myself at Jameson’s expense. This was dangerous territory by the way.

About ten minutes later, the girl noticed me and introduced herself. “I’m Sabrina,” she said, extending her free hand, the other wrapped around a glass of wine.

“I’m Sway.” I said politely.

“Well that’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“How did your parents come up with that one?”

“I was named after the Rolling Stones song
Sway
.”

“Oh.” She smiled and glanced over at Jameson like he was a piece of meat. “Are you two
...
?” she pointed back and forth between Jameson and me when he smiled.

“Oh no, no, he’s my best friend. We’re tight.” I winked at her and pounded my fist to my chest as though I was from the hood or something.

Jimi’s shoulders were shaking as he tried to control his laughter along with Spencer.

I might have only continued this because Jimi was so entertained. It had been a while since I saw him laugh this much but then again, I was drunk.

I could only assume I was doing this because I’d been drinking because if he demonstrated any interest in her, I would have shit my pants at how incredibly stupid this was.

Jameson turned his head in order to avoid eye contact with me, and her.

Sabrina had a confused look on her face and opened her mouth to say something when I jumped in.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Jameson coughed loudly and stood. “Actually—”

I interrupted. “He’s shy.”

What is wrong with me? It’s like I’m trying to get her to come onto him?

She turned to Jameson just about the time Jimi excused himself, his face red from suppressing his laughter.

Tommy and Spencer were glancing in between Jameson and me probably wondering how this was going to end.

“I think being shy is adorable.” Sabrina said in his ear.

Jameson glared in my direction.

I didn’t know what to do so I winked.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have done this but the fact that I knew he wouldn’t be interested made it that much funnier to me, and everyone else
...
aside from Jameson.

“I’m getting hungry.” I announced standing. I was also starting to panic and ready to bolt at any moment.

Jameson shot up out of the chair.

“I’ll go get you something,” he said with a venomous look on his face. “Since we’re tight and all.”

He came back a few minutes later and tossed a bag of chips in my lap before sitting back down in the only open chair, next to Sabrina, glaring in my direction.

“So how did you two meet?” Sabrina asked scooting closer to Jameson.

I started to make something up when Jameson jumped in.

“We met when she got out of rehab.” He picked up my drink and sniffed the red cup. “Goddamn it, Sway. You shouldn’t be drinking!” he reprimanded, pointing his finger in my face. Then he shook his head, took me by the elbow, and said, “Let’s get you away from the temptation.”

Well that did not turn out in my favor.
Why does it always back fire on me when I’m trying to embarrass him?

Tommy, Spencer and now Emma, we laughing so hard they could barely stand.

I shrugged out of his grip. “Asshole,” I muttered.

He pushed me inside his motor coach. “What the fuck was that?”

I couldn’t help it; I once again panicked and started giggling. I panicked because I wanted to tell him, I was testing you to see if you’d leave with someone. Did I tell him that?
No, hell no.

He was not pleased by this and if possible, became even angrier and left.

“It was just for fun!” I yelled after him still giggling. He flipped me off.

Nice going asshole. You pissed him off.

After composing myself, I walked back outside the motor coach to find Jameson had left, Tommy chatting it up with Mariah and Casten sound asleep.

I strolled around the compound looking for Jameson when I spotted him at Tate’s motor coach talking with him and Tate’s teammate Austin.

When I approached them, Jameson, with his arms crossed, shot me a look like “don’t you even think about embarrassing me”, so I didn’t. I figured I’d done enough for one night.

“This is Tate Harris,” he gestured toward Tate. “You guys met at the Chili Bowl, right?”

I nodded shaking hands with Tate and then turned to Austin.

“And this is Austin Yale.” Jameson said. “He drives the number thirty-two car.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” I said smiling. Jameson surprised me and slung his arm around my shoulder pulling me next to him when Austin made small talk with me.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Austin who moved on to converse with a group of girls gathered near Tate’s motor coach.

So he doesn’t leave with pit lizards, he makes out with me and shows possession? Can you say confused?

Jameson and I left soon after that to walk back toward his motor coach. I could tell a lot was on his mind. My first plan to distract him backfired and in fear his tenuous good mood would get worse, I decided to talk racing and asked him if he thought his car could win tomorrow.

“Yeah—probably,” His said, disinterested. “It’s fast in the draft.” I thought he would say more but he just shrugged his shoulders.

By the time we got back to his motor coach, Casten was on his second wind and had his flask back. I wondered how Nana kept up with the old bastard at home.

Spencer’s eyes lit up when he saw us.
“Natalie asked me how you were.”

“Spencer, not now,” Jameson groaned.

Natalie? Who’s Natalie?
I thought to myself, my stomach churning. Here I was just moments ago provoking a pit lizard and now when another one is mentioned, I become terrified.

I’m such a girl that it is revolting.

“She left her phone number,” Spencer snickered handing him a napkin. He crumbled it up and tossed in the garbage next to the food table without looking.

“Who’s Natalie?” I asked hesitantly taking a seat. I tried to play it off like I wasn’t interested but I’m sure it didn’t appear that way, my face was reasonably flushed and prickly feeling. I could feel the heat radiating off myself.

“No one,” Jameson replied sitting next to me, his thigh touching mine. “She’s no one.” When he finally glanced over at me his look of honesty had me once again questioning his intention.

“Oh, come on, Jameson.” Spencer teased. “You remember her
...
the freaky one from California?” all the guys started laughing as Spencer wiggled his eyebrows.

“Can we not do this right now?” Jimi took a drink of his whiskey shaking his head. “I don’t think I want to hear any of this.”

Nancy, Emma and Alley had left with Lane leaving me and the guys standing around.

“I agree.” Jameson nodded and I could tell that he was trying not to look at me again. “Let’s not talk about this right now.”

“What are you doing Grandpa?” Spencer asked when Casten slapped the back of his head.

“That’s for being stupid.” He remarked in disgust. “Jameson obviously doesn’t want everyone to know who he’s been align boring.” Jameson shot out of the chair and locked the door behind him.

Later, as in two hours later, he let me in because all my stuff was in there but he didn’t speak to anyone the rest of the night and insisted I sleep in his bed with him.

“Aren’t you mad?” I asked timidly crawling into bed with him.

“Yes, I’m mad but I’m also tired.” He grumbled tweaking his pillow the way he liked it. “Now let’s sleep. I’ll be mean in the morning.”

“Oh goody,”

He was quiet for a moment before leaning over and pulling me against him. His hand cupped my cheek. “Don’t do that to me again. I don’t want those girls.” His voice was drowsy, his eyes half closed. “I don’t want them.” He repeated and then let his eyes close, his beautiful thick lashes casted shadows over his cheeks. I ran my fingers over the rough edges of the stubble of his jaw.

So he slept and I contemplated what I had just done. I don’t know why I tested him like that and if he would have left with Veronica, I would have cried. I could only presume I did this out of pure curiosity. I wanted to see if he was presented the opportunity to leave with a girl, would he take it. During our summer, he would have left with her. Now, he didn’t seem to show any interest in other women. He glanced, but that was as far as he ever took it and never anything more than a quick glance.

Did this mean something?

I watched him sleep for an hour. He was on his stomach clad in just pair of black boxer briefs, his arms curled under a pillow. Every muscle in his body was sculpted to perfection and I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of the exposed skin, tasting him. I wanted to rape the pour boy for Christ sakes.

Grumbling to myself, I turned the other way in fear I’d attack him. Images of our hot make-out session the night I arrived replayed in my mind.

The way his body felt hovering over mine. The way his camshaft felt against me. I knew he wanted more, it was obvious but he stopped. He always pulled away, collecting himself before things advanced which made me think he didn’t want this. That might have been why I tested him with Mariah.

That was stupid Sway.

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