Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (13 page)

Lying on his back, arms contently resting on his stomach, I steadied his sedated breathing. His left hand rose to run through his hair.

What really caught my attention was the intensity marking his gaze. His eyes were open staring at the ceiling, the restlessness returned, as did that vulnerability. I couldn’t stop my mind from convincing me he’d regret it. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to tell him to stop.

Once Jameson was asleep, I couldn’t take just laying there as the gnawing anxiety got the best of me. Turning over, I took in his softened features. With his unkempt rusty hair, the freckles on his nose, he reminded me so much of the boy I fell in love with amongst the methanol and clay of the Northwest.

Who was I kidding, he was still
that
boy. Jameson hadn’t changed and I knew that. And knowing that, I shouldn’t have been so worried he’d regret this because the boy I fell in love with wouldn’t. He was still my best friend above all else and sleeping together wouldn’t change that.

Or would it?

Here I go again.

The haze of intoxication was starting to lift; reality was setting in.

Feeling sick again, I decided to get some water or run away, one of the two was a good idea.

You’d think his room would have water since it had everything else but nope, just alcohol. No surprise there though.

I threw on Jameson’s shirt from last night and stepped out the door, tentatively. I glanced outside but no one seemed to be around.

Half-naked, hair all over the place, I made my way down the long hallway of the Omni Hotel and Resort in search of water.

When I rounded the corner, I ran right into Emma.

No, scratch that—I fell over Emma because for god knows what reason, she was on her knees in front of the vending machine.

“What the hell, Emma?” I grunted pealing myself from the tile floor, slipping on ice cubes that were scattered everywhere.

Emma started picking up the ice chips frantically and dropping them in a bucket. “What does it look like? I was getting ice and water.”

She looked over me once, scrutinizing my appearance and then shook her head. “Where are your clothes?”

“Where are yours?” I challenged. Emma wasn’t wearing much more than me with Aiden’s t-shirt and cowboy hat. “Nice hat.” I added.

She smiled again and looked more closely at my collarbone that was sporting a purple bite mark from Jameson. “Did you
...
oh god
, Sway, you didn’t?”

“Shut up.” I snapped and shoved her against the vending machine. “You have
no
room to talk. Whose saddle were you just in?”

“Saddle?” Emma glared but appeared nervous. “Don’t tell Jameson about me and Aiden.”

“Don’t tell Alley about me and Jameson then.” I countered letting go of her.

“Deal,” we shook hands.

“Well, was it what you hoped for?” Emma asked as we made our way back down the hall to our rooms. “I heard you. You sounded like a damn hyena in there.” She added laughing hysterically.

I pushed her again, knocking her and her ice chips against some innocent quests door. “I hate you. I really do.”

When I made it back inside the room, Jameson cuddled against my back. I thought he was sleeping but his breathing hitched when I kissed his arm that he’d placed around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

“Have you ever thought about this before?” he asked. His voice was out of breath and low but smooth as it always was.

“Thought about
...
?” I tried to be vague as though I didn’t know what he was asking, even if I did.

“This
...
” his answer was just as vague. His arms flexed around me and he kissed my shoulder once, his lips warm.

“Yes and no,” I told him honestly, because right now, I couldn’t tell him how I really felt.

For someone who never ran from anything and spoke her mind frequently, I couldn’t tell him that this was all I’ve thought about for the past four years. The words just wouldn’t form.

In his arms that morning, I knew then that nothing would ever be the same between us. This wasn’t something where two people just casually slept together.

It couldn’t be.

Not with the thirst I had.

4.
             
Happy Hour
–
Sway

Happy Hour – Slang term for last official practice session held before an event. Usually takes place the day before the race and after all qualifying and support races have been staged.

I was dead.

That’s all there was to it. Surely, there’s no way someone could feel this
badly
, and still be alive. My throat felt like the Mohave Desert. My head felt like someone hit it with a baseball bat and my body felt like jelly.

I laid there for a good ten minutes, wondering if I truly was dead. Stretching, I intended to get up, when my arm bumped something causing me to jump.

What the hell?

I felt movement on the bed and someone groan beside me. Once I turned my head, I groaned myself.

Not only did I
know
that particular groan but even so much as turning my head, hurt like hell. Bringing my arm up, I covered my face to block out the blinding light coming in from the morning or afternoon sun.

I continued to lay there for a moment trying to remember anything that happened last night when reality hit me—slapped me across the face actually.

It came back to me in flashes.

The race, the bar, Chelsea, the dancing, that kissing, Purple Rain.

And then in a rush, without warning, the sex came back to me based on the soreness between my legs.

Then
who
came back to me
...
Jameson
...
oh god
.

What if he regretted it? What if he doesn’t even remember what we did?

I turned over onto my back, covering my head with a pillow now, wondering what I was thinking last night. Friends with benefits,
geez
, you have truly lost your mind this time.

Just as I decided that I would be perfectly content never removing my head from under that pillow, Jameson groaned loudly beside me and flung an arm around my waist.

It was at that point I realized I was still completely naked, in bed with Jameson Riley, my best friend.

While I was starting to regret not putting some clothes on before we went to bed, he grunted and moved closer, pressed my body against his and
oh my
...
he was hard.

What did I do next? I started giggling.

Why?

Because I was completely inappropriate like that. When I was nervous, I giggled and right then, I couldn’t speak, I could barely even think so I giggled.

“
Uhgg
...
Sway,” Jameson groaned once again covering his head with a pillow. “Stop laughing
...
head hurts
...
”

Well, at least he knows it’s me beside him.

This had me giggling even more because me, Sway Reins, slept with my best friend Jameson Riley.

“Oh
...
god
...
you have to stop laughing.” Jameson groaned again, tossing a pillow at me.

His legs tangled with mine under the sheets, his erection pressed against my thigh.

I had the sudden urge to stick my head under the sheets and get a good look at him since I didn’t see it last night. I refrained though.

I giggled once more, my head throbbing at the noise and causing Jameson to cringe and tighten his grip around my waist. “I swear to
god
...
if you don’t stop, I will push you out of this goddamn bed.” He warned in a serious rough voice.

Eventually I stopped giggling and Jameson made no attempt to push me away or off the bed. Instead, he kept his arm firmly around my waist and his hips pushed against my thigh.

Before I could decide what was going to happen next, his cell phone started ringing on the nightstand beside me.

“
Fuck
...
that’s worse than you laughing.” Jameson grumbled reaching over me pressing his chest against my own.

Completely on top of me, he answered the phone. “What?”

I was hyperventilating.

Let me take a moment here to really explain what kind of position we were in. I was lying on my back, legs spread, completely naked—kind of like last night. Jameson was completely naked as well, on top of me, between my legs with his camshaft pressing against my crankcase.

We were in quite the predicament here.

“What time do I
have
to be there?” Jameson sighed. I could tell by the voice coming through the receiver that he was talking to Alley. “Wait
...
what time is it now?” Jameson looked around the room searching for a clock.

Glancing over my shoulder, I looked at the alarm clock to see that it was already four in the afternoon.

Great, my flight leaves at eight tonight.

I tried to push Jameson away so I could get up and get dressed but he grabbed my hand with his and pushed it above my head.

Apparently, I wasn’t going anywhere.

His eyes narrowed at me, shaking his head no. “Yeah—Alley, I’ll be there at six. I need a few
...
hours though.” Jameson added with a wink.

Say what?

Alley apparently wasn’t happy about this judging by the screaming. “Bye Alley.” He simply said tossing his phone on the floor.

My head turned, looking anywhere but in his eyes that I could feel penetrating me, speaking of penetrating, I could feel something else awfully close to penetration.

Jameson let go of my hands and placed his right hand against my cheek forcing me to look at him.

“Look at me, honey.” He asked softly kissing along my jaw.

I couldn’t help the tears that were forming. I tried—believe me I tried. When I finally looked at him, my emerald green meeting his smoldering green, I couldn’t place the emotion his held.

Why am I doing this to myself? You know this isn’t going to change anything. This is stupid and one of the worst idea’s you’ve ever had.

“You okay?” He asked leaning in to kiss me. His lips pressed to mine once, twice, three times and then his tongue grazed my lips. His other hand came up holding my face securely to his while he attacked my mouth with passionate hungry kisses that left me weak and incredibly vulnerable again.