I can’t see her, but I know she’s there, sleeping peacefully and that’s all that matters.
How am I gonna leave her when she has to be around other people at the track, on the road?
Do I need to nip this in the bud? Just march in there, throw her over my shoulder and drive off into the sunset, career be damned?
I need a life for us though, we can’t live on a feeling. I can’t put food on the table with how strongly I feel for someone.
How much I love her?
It’s a strong word, and not one I’ve ever used in the same sentence as myself. Not with anyone.
Until now.
Mike’s garage light stays on, I’ll never know if he really slept tonight.
Me, I admit. I doze off a couple of times, but I’m eventually roused by a pair of fighting cats by the truck and notice it’s almost four in the morning, I decide it’s time to get to the track. To be ready for our six o’clock start.
I notice a few other lights coming to life inside the house, and after a few minutes of waiting just to be sure it's Mike getting up I roll my truck down the street before starting it and leave once I see Penny’s light come on.
Something tells me none of us really slept last night. Each of us for our own reasons.
I’ve had big race meets before and usually sleep like a lamb, but everything’s different now.
I tell myself Penny is safe and slept well, but if she’s feeling even half the way I do, I don’t think she slept a wink.
Mike has his reasons too. New job, new team. Does he really know? Does he really know how bad I want her, no matter the cost?
Today’s a decider for a lot of things. The race, my new team but I have a niggling feeling it’s gonna be the qualifier for even bigger stakes.
For Penny herself.
And she’s the one prize I intend to claim above all else.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Steve
“Honey? You up?” Dad asks softly, only cracking my door open enough for me to hear him.
I groan a reply, throwing back the covers and notice his relieved smile in the dim hallway light.
“Big day, how’d you sleep?” he asks, knowing I put myself to bed early last night, skipping his dinner with Mack. I told him I had a headache, but dad knows when his little girl’s been crying, so he let it go.
“Fine,” I lie.
I haven’t slept a wink, not really.
Twice last night I swear I heard Steve’s truck, sure I caught a hint of his cologne in the air too.
But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
In his usual friendly but factual tone, dad gives me the drill for the morning. I have plenty of time to get ready, some clothes in a bag is all I really need.
Over a blurry breakfast I only push around my plate and another ton of inquiries from my dad about what happened when Steve came back last night, it’s clear to both of us I’m in no mood to talk about it.
“You can ask him yourself when we get to the track,” I snap, finally having had enough.
Enough of everything so far that isn’t Steve’s hand holding mine on his body.
“You don’t have to come,” Dad says ominously, and for a split second I wonder if it'd be better if I do stay behind.
I don’t want to be a problem between dad and Steve, between his new team and future career.
But the thought of not being close to him is unthinkable now.
“I just don’t need an inquisition dad, I still have a headache. Okay?” I ask him, raising the white flag of truce, for now.
He creases a frown, and after asking me to clean up and make sure the house is locked, he busies himself with his checklists for the third time.
The drive up is tense, but mostly from what I can only imagine is dad’s own nerves about managing a new crew he’s never met in a league that’s new to him.
With Steve’s own interest, dad’s well up to speed with the latest technology, he’s just never had the money or opportunity to be a part of it.
“It’ll be fine, dad,” I reassure him, relaxing enough to doze for the rest of the ride once I see the shine of excitement replace the worry in his eyes. I start to drift off to the sound of his excitement as he goes over how great things are gonna be from now on.
But before I do slip into sleep, all I can think about and feel is Steve. The foggy, very wet dream I have about him is followed by me saying his name. Screaming it.
“Say something?” Dad asks, as I jolt awake, suddenly flushed and very certain I just screamed out Steve’s name in the car.
“Here we are,” he announces, letting me off the hook as I see the raceway start to fill the horizon.
Just a dream… but my god… I swear I just…
“This is where Steve and I started with cars all those years ago, before you were even born,” Dad reminisces.
It’s a qualifying and then round one race today, tomorrow the national tour to the championship snakes its way across two dozen states. I’ve under packed and feel a pang of anxiety about the whole thing.
I’ll be expected to do whatever dad says the whole time too.
Sleep should have restored me, but the feeling in my jeans is only hotter and wetter than ever for Steve now. I feel clammy, hot then cold and everything my dad says is just annoying.
All I can think about, all I want is Steve.
“Honey? Could you grab those passes and the map? I need to know where to go from here.”
As if on cue, Steve himself steps out from the crowd, heads and shoulders above everyone else. He looks so handsome in his racing suit, all white with
