Trading Paint (Racing on the Edge) (53 page)

“Thank you.” He whispered against the top of my head.

I pulled away from him.
“For what?”

He put both his hands on my face and looked down at me. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

I wanted to cry, worse than I already was.

After a brief hesitation, I smiled and shook my head. “You did this yourself.”

“No, you did. I race the car but you are what
has
kept me focused on what I wanted.”

“Well then I believe I should be getting half your salary then.” I teased.

“Now you’re just getting greedy.” He laughed shoving his hands in his pockets. “Will you call me when you get to Seattle?”

“Yes,” my voice was shaky again. I knew I needed to leave but my feet wouldn’t move.

I think he sensed I couldn’t do it on my own so he walked me to the car but before he let go he paused and just stared at me for a long moment, his voice cracked when he spoke. “I
...
I will miss you honey.”

I started crying again.

Eventually I did make it on the plane and home but it took a lot of convincing from Emma, who flew back with me. It was Jameson’s orders, or punishment, depending on how you looked at it.

Diffuser – Jameson

For ten years I wondered why this girl owned me the way she did. When I thought of myself, I thought of Sway and always would. The night before she left, I held her as she cried and I realized exactly what I’d been denying for ten years. I loved her.

There was so much I could have said when she left the next morning. But I was too blinded by the loud thumping in my heart, the pain of letting go, to say it. This girl owned me, owned my thoughts. I drove myself insane thinking about her but still, I couldn’t
fucking
say it.

I knew she was leaving, I knew she wouldn’t stay but what scared me even more were the words that were on the tip of my tongue when I kissed her goodbye
...
I love you.

I wanted to say it. For the first time in my life, I wanted to tell someone I loved them, and she was my best friend. I didn’t love her as a best friend either,
no,
it was so much more than that.

It was the kind of love that you felt in your bones; deep blinding love.

I’d be lying if I said I was okay, I wasn’t okay with this. I was far from being okay.

If I asked her to stay would she?
And if she did—then what?
Could I handle it if she felt the same way?

No, I probably couldn’t because I could not offer her what she needed. I wasn’t in the position to.

Then I thought back to what Kyle said. That maybe she didn’t want the relationship, maybe she just wanted the benefits. If my siblings hadn’t been in the hotel room last night, I’d been tempted to ask her for more but they squashed that idea. But then again, I wasn’t ready to ask for what I wanted in fear she’d agree.

With the pressure put upon drivers now, we had little time for personal relationships.

Sure other drivers were married and had girlfriends but they also traveled with them and were able to maintain a sense of normalcy that we wouldn’t have. I wasn’t in the position to offer her that and with the track she wasn’t in the position to give that up.

So where would that leave us?

I had no answers and didn’t have time to think of answers the day she left. I wasn’t even able to drive her to the airport because I had to leave her at the hotel that morning to catch a flight to Charlotte.

By Tuesday, I was like a zombie and had a day to myself before heading to Rockingham for the next race. At home, I had time to think or beat myself up, whatever way you want to look at it.

I heard my alarm going off that morning, knowing I had a team meeting to be at but I ignored it, hoping the awful buzzing would stop.

The sun was beating in through the window and my eyes squinted open painfully. Rubbing the grit from my eyes, I cracked my neck, relieving the pinching as my painfully throbbed. 

I sat up slowly realizing that my phone was also ringing and I reached over to get it.

“Hello.” My voice was groggy.

“Where are you?” Alley demanded.

“Huh?”
I looked over at the clock that flashed seven.

“Jameson, you are supposed to be at the shop this morning.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll make it.” I shook my head, still trying to wake up.

“Yes you will! Spencer is coming to get you.”

Before I could tell her no, she hung up on me. I scrambled to focus but I couldn’t.

I literally fell out of bed, hitting the floor in a heap of sheets. I was naked and my body felt like it was filled with lead. I couldn’t think or see straight. Probably because they only thing on my mind was Sway and the tears in her eyes when she left.

“Damn it.” I hit my head on the floor repeatedly. “Why does it have to be this way?”

I got up from the floor and stretched my muscles. The ache from my side was throbbing but I pushed past it and jumped in the shower. The bruises from some broken bones I suffered a few months back racing sprint cars were beginning to fade. Now if I could only get my feelings for Sway to fade.

I managed to make it to the team meeting an hour late, but I made it. Dad wasn’t too excited about me being late. After a few choice words, well yelling, he told me if I was late again he’d be taking it out of my pay.

I had the rest of the evening free and did what I always did to get my mind sedated; I drank.

Three hours later, I was sitting at the bar in my parent’s kitchen drowning my sorrows in a country song. I felt like a country song and then started to wonder who would sing it.

Staring through a whiskey glass, I saw the reflection of my brother walking back toward his room carrying Alley in his arms. I didn’t even bother to look up just grabbed a bottle off the table and popped a couple pills.

Squinting at the bottle I attempted to read the label. It was probably wise to know that the fuck I just took with whiskey.

Vicodin
.
Praise Jesus
.

I need pain relief and lots of it.

Avoiding my thoughts, I turned the bottle around and read off the side effects out-loud. “Blurred vision
...
I’m okay with that
...
difficulty breathing
...
already had that
...
dizziness, drowsiness, mental/mood changes
...
hell
, how is that any different from my usual personality?” I asked myself.

No one answered, so I answered myself. “It’s not any different
...
” I continued reading. “Severe allergic reaction may occur.” I squinted at the bottle. That did not sound okay with me.
“Anxiety, fear, unusual tiredness.”

This shit wasn’t going to make me feel any better so I turned the bottle of whiskey around to see if it had side effects
...
none listed.

I gladly accepted the side effects though, anything was better than what I was feeling right now.

Emma pushed me off the chair when she walked into the kitchen. I didn’t bother to get up but tripped her as she walked by.

“You brought this upon yourself asshole.”

“Get out.” I rubbed my forehead.

“No, I live here too.” She sat down to annoy me some more. “Why are you so
moppy
?”

“Get out!” I roared and then calmed myself a little. My dad would skin me if he heard me yelling at Emma like that and I was sure he was somewhere within the huge house. “Please, just leave me alone.”

I think Emma knew me well enough to know when harassing me wasn’t a good idea and now was one of them.

I stared at my phone, wanting to call Sway, wanting to hear her voice.

Would she want me? Would she love me in the ways I loved her?

After the entire bottle was empty and I was searching the liquor cabinet for more, in walked Spencer.

He looked at me contemplatively, I think. I did just drink a fifth of whiskey, he could be flipping me off for all I know.

“You know,” he began and I groaned.

Why can’t people just leave me be?

“You can’t expect her to know how you feel if you don’t tell her.”

“I thought you were leaving for Rockingham tonight?” I growled slamming the cupboard door closed when I couldn’t find any more alcohol.

He shrugged taking a seat at the breakfast island. “No, I’m going with you and I’m hungry.”

I found another bottle of whiskey stashed above the fridge, pulled it out and dropped down next to him.

I pushed the bottle to him. “Here,”

“I said hungry,” he looked at the bottle of
Vicodin
. “Combining narcotics huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t get you.” He shook his head and took both my bottles away from me. “You fuck around for years avoiding what you feel for her. Then,” he emphasized this by throwing his hand in the air. “You finally pull your head out of your ass and realize you love her but you let her leave again.”

I slammed my fist down on the granite not wanting to hear the truth. My head fell forward. I’d barely admitted this to myself, why would I want to hear someone else say it?

“You told me too.” I pointed out trying to emphasize he aided in my sleeping around.

“I didn’t think you’d listen!”

“Fuck you Spencer.” I ripped both bottles from his hands and stumbled to my room.

I couldn’t feel much of anything within an hour so I guess the intended use worked.

I knew I loved her, took me long enough to discover that but how could I actually have her?

I could cut the strings and let her go, let her have the life she deserved with a man that could provide her that.

It was a good idea except it didn’t give me her and it was impossible for me because letting go was not an option.

What else was I going to do, tell her how I felt?

Nope. That would be far too easy but the hardest part would be hearing she didn’t feel the same. It also goes back to finding the right words to say. I usually never faltered for words but with her, when everything depended on those words, I couldn’t form them.

The next morning Tommy stopped by, he was going to Rockingham with us and then back to Elma for a few weeks. I wasn’t in the best mood, I did drink a little, okay a lot but that wasn’t why. I still had no clue what I should do. I was sick of feeling like this.  

For a guy who had been so vigilant on one mission for so long, I was thrown a curve ball with this newfound discovery that
me
, Jameson Riley, loved someone. That
someone
wasn’t just anyone either, she was my best friend.

“Did you change out the coil springs in Justin’s car for the torsion bars?”

“Yeah, I changed the gears too.”

Tommy tried to get me to talk but I remained silent most of the morning as we loaded the sprint cars for Greg West, the driver of the transporter for my sprint car team. Once that was finished, we had about four hours before we had to leave. The nice thing about the next race being in North Caroline was that we didn’t need to fly.

“You know,” Tommy began, kicking my leg as I slumped on the couch in the race shop. “I’m tired of you being so stubborn.”

“I’ll be sure to drop you comment in the I-don’t-give-a-fuck pile later.”

“That’s harsh.”

“It was meant to be harsh.”

He dropped down beside me on the couch. “I’d offer you a beer but I think you had enough to drink last night.”

I was silent so he kept talking. Tommy never knew when to shut up. “Did you talk to her last night?”

I shook my head. “I fucked up Tommy. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Let’s go fishing.”

“What? Why? I don’t fish.” How this had anything to do with my problem was what I wanted to know.

Tommy jumped up from the couch. “Well when my dad said he fucked up with my mom, we went fishing so he could think.

Not understanding his logic, we went fishing until we had to leave.

Tommy being Tommy didn’t allow me to think, he talked the entire time.

“If you don’t stop talking, I will throw you out of this goddamn boat.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Saying what? You’re not making any sense and I thought I was supposed to be thinking.”