“What do you do during the off-season?” she asked as they sat across from each other at a small sandwich shop.
“So you did look me up.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You told me you don’t follow motocross, so how would you know it even has a season?”
She rolled her eyes and he grinned. No point in denying it now. “Off-season?”
“Make guest appearances at the dirt bike shows and whatever else my PR director dictates. And motocross off-season is actually arenacross season, which is indoor dirt bike racing. Plus there are photo shoots, interviews, meetings with my sponsors. And when I’m not doing any of that, I’m keeping in shape so I’m ready for the kickoff of the next season.”
“Basically, you never slow down.”
The server placed a Rueben and a plateful of fries in front of him and a club sandwich and chips in front of her. Tommy popped a fry into his mouth. “Nope.”
They dove into their meals. “Tell me about the stalker,” he said after taking a swig of water.
She didn’t even hesitate to tell him, and she decided not to delve into why.
“He started coming to the bar a few weeks ago. Would just park on a stool and stare at me, which was plenty creepy enough. Then he started touching me.”
Tommy’s face reddened as his fist clenched around his plastic water cup. “He—”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Not like that.” He stared at her face for long seconds and then deflated like a balloon. “When he’d order a beer, he’d reach across the bar and touch my hair. Or deliberately brush his fingers over my hand when I gave him his drink. Little things. Things I’d normally blow off as nothing more than an annoying customer, except he was in there every single night. And always with the staring.” She shivered, recalling the intensity in the man’s eyes.
“Couple of days ago, I wasn’t paying attention. I’d had a bad night, was grumpy, pissed off at the world, and impatient to leave. Didn’t wait for Jude to walk me to my car, which is standard procedure.”
“And Jude is?”
“Our bouncer. Big as a house and scary as a marine on the front lines when he needs to be, but on the inside he’s a big ole teddy bear.”
“I like Jude already.”
She laughed but quickly sobered. “So I walked out to my car alone. Made it safely, obviously. But I didn’t realize I had a tail until he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building. As I got out of my car, he stopped and rolled down his window and asked if he could come in for a nightcap. I shut him down and ran into my apartment. Stupidly called one of my exes, who came over thinking we were going to rekindle things. Instead, we got into a massive fight and I kicked him out. Then I sat with my back to the door and a butcher knife in my hand for the rest of the night.
“To make it even worse, since it was Independence Day weekend, people were shooting off fireworks, which, when you’re alone and scared shitless, sound like gunfire.”
Tommy whistled. “I can imagine.”
She toyed with a chip and nodded. “That was Friday. On Saturday, I managed to convince myself it wasn’t as bad as it was, and I went into work. My stalker showed up, looking happy to see me, like we were long-lost friends or something. I gave him the cold shoulder at first, but it didn’t seem to deter him, so I finally chewed his head off toward the end of the night. And when I got home and peeked out the window a few minutes later, he was parked outside my apartment. And he was still there when I woke up later that morning. I tried going into work one more time Sunday, and the same thing happened. By yesterday, I was so paranoid I couldn’t even take my trash to the dumpster. That’s when I called Maddy.”
He turned his arm over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m glad you did. Hopefully, staying with my parents will give you time to relax. And time for Jude to have a little chat with the guy and convince him never to set foot in that bar again.”
She smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping too.”
“I’m still planning on going with you into work on Friday, just so you know.”
Her smile widened. “Thanks for having my back.”
He twined his fingers with hers. “Anytime.”
***
The last leg of the journey flew by as they talked music and television shows and favorite books, and Camila discovered Tommy had a secret love of romance novels.
“You’re kidding me,” she said, laughing so hard she was gasping for breath.
“If you tell my brothers, I’ll work out a very special form of torture,” he warned.
“Oh yeah? Will I like this torture?”
He glanced at her, his eyes flaring. What the hell was she thinking, opening her mouth like that? That comment was straight up flirting, no matter what she wanted to pretend. Just when their relationship had found a sort of solid, middle ground that was actually pretty damn nice.
“Maybe I do want you to tell my brothers. All three of them.”
She turned to face the passenger side window, conscious of how hot her cheeks were. She felt him nudge her elbow; she glanced down to see him offering her a bottle of water. With an eye roll, she accepted it and chugged while he snickered.
And then they were exiting the highway into farm country dotted with colorful, decidedly patriotic signs announcing Rogers Raceway only X miles down the road. Thanks to an early, warm spring, the stalks of corn lining
