“We both have a past that doesn’t include each other. It's not fair of me to hold yours against you,” she says softly.
Tipping her head up toward mine, I kiss her once more, trying to push down the flare of jealousy I feel at her words. “The very last thing I want to think about is you with other men. Can we agree that the past stays in the past from now on? I promise I’ll protect you from mine from here on out.” Just the thought of her with someone else is enough to piss me off. I can’t begin to imagine how I would have acted if the roles were reversed today and I had to hear the shit she has done.
“I really want this, Tuck. Do you think we can make this work?”
“As long as we’re together, we can do anything.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BROOKE
We’re at the race track for the first race of the season. The smell of gasoline and motor oil hanging heavy in the air causes a pang of nostalgia to hit me. I’m catapulted back to the first time Tucker took me to a race.
“If you squeeze my hand any tighter, you’ll cut off my blood flow.”
“Is it safe? What if they crash?”
“You’re always safe with me.”
I never doubted how sincere Tucker was when he said those words. I never felt unsafe or scared for myself, but watching him climb in to a car, to risk his life week after week, had taken its toll on me back then. It was so bad I would have to hide in the bathroom so Tuck wouldn’t see the panic attacks I was having.
“I used to think nothing could be more terrifying than watching Colton race. Then Zander got in a car, and I thought my heart was going to jump right out of my mouth.” Rylee laughs lightly from next to me. We’ve gotten a little closer since Tucker and I have been to her and Colton's house for dinner a few times over the last few weeks. We’re sat at the back of the bay while the guys are a flurry of activity around us. Ace, Rylee’s son plays with a handful of toy cars at our feet.
She thinks I’m about to freak out, and I’m not going to deny that I’ve come close to having a freak out a few times this morning, but I only have to look over at Tucker to be calmed.
He's with his race crew, huddled around an iPad as they go over last-minute details before the race. He looks incredible. His long legs are encased in his tight fire suit, but he’s currently got the arms tied around his waist. His strong arms are shown off by the tight faded black T-shirt he’s wearing. His hair is already a mess from where he keeps running his hands through it.
I expected some nerves from him today, but from the moment we woke up this morning, he’s been cool and calm. No, that’s not it. He’s serene. This is his place. Seeing him like this is more than enough to allay any fears I might have had.
“That was the reason I left him before.” I don’t know why I tell her that. The words just fall out of my mouth.
“Because you thought he’d get hurt?”
“No, not quite.” Pulling my gaze away from Tucker, I turn to concentrate on Rylee. “I was definitely concerned for him; I think that’s normal. It was more than that. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep the fear to myself. I was always able to lock my fear down because I knew when he would be racing. But he started going to these underground street races. He would get a text, and the next thing he would be going off to race. That was when it all became too much. One night I begged him not to go. I tried reasoning with him, tried begging him, but he was determined to go.”
“That doesn’t sound so unreasonable, Brooke.”
“No, it wasn’t. But that night, after we argued and he left me alone to go race, I had the worst panic attack I’d ever had. I was a mess. And I knew it would be impossible to keep that from him; it was going to keep happening. It would keep getting worse.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand softly, offering me much needed support as I tell her something that I’ve only ever told my sister. “I knew I was going to end up holding him back. If he knew how deeply it was affecting me, he would have quit. He would have given up his dreams.”
“Oh, Brooke.”
“I couldn’t let him do it.”
“Does he know this?” Rylee takes my silence as the answer it is. No. I’ve let Tucker carry guilt over us ending, when in reality it was me and my weakness that ended us.
“Tell him. He thinks it’s because he put racing first.”
Guilt rubs away at my chest at hearing someone else telling me that Tucker blames himself. “Trust me when I tell you that things like that have a way of coming out eventually. Nip it in the bud before it becomes something bigger than it needs to be.”
I know she’s right; it’s totally unfair for me to keep something like that to myself. It’s not fair to either of us.
“Do you have any of those superstitions like some of the other drivers do?” All of the pre-race checks have been done, and there’s a few minutes for the drivers to collect themselves before they get in their cars. I tried
