Page 21 of Homecoming

When there’s something that I want, I push as hard as I need to.

While I thought about what to reply, I received another message.

And I want you, in any and every way I can get.

The swirling in my stomach got out of control to the point that it sent a pulse of pure need straight to the center of me. I rubbed my thighs together, walking in place to relieve the building tension by reading his words on a screen.

I knew that if I went there to see him, I would be taking the first step on a path I both wanted and didn’t dare to take. Something would surely happen. I just didn’t know if it would be good or bad.

You know you want to. He sent quickly as if he could feel my indecision.

I groaned in capitulation and typed.

Where do you want me to meet you?

Wracked with nerves, I flashed my VIP pass to security guarding the gate. It was pandemonium. I didn’t know that so many people came to watch the qualifications. I was sure it was only the main event that was popular. But, as with almost everything in the racing world, I was wrong with that too.

I checked my phone to see if I had missed a text from Ian, but I hadn’t. He said he would be waiting for me near the entrance, but I couldn’t see him.

I tugged at my denim shorts. And then untied and retied the bow on my white striped blouse. My hair was pulled back and tied into a loose low bun. Looking around all I could see were girls wearing sky-high heels, thigh-short dresses, and enough make-up that even the glam team of a certain celebrity would be jealous. I felt out of place in my white sneakers. I didn’t belong there. I didn’t belong with Ian, or even near him.

A warm hand landed on the small of my back, a breath whispered over the skin of the back of my neck.

“Stop being nervous, I won’t bite you.”

I closed my eyes, taking a calming breath to get my body under control, but with that breath, all I did was get a dose of Ian. He smelled like a mix of spice, oil, and something I couldn’t put my finger on. It was intoxicating. The adrenaline spiked in my blood, my heart started to beat faster, and my hands started to shake.

Gulping air to steady myself, I turned and swayed.

Ian was in his jumpsuit, his top half folded over his hips, his white shirt highlighting his chest and abs under the fabric, and his arm muscles on display.

“Whoa,” he muttered as he grasped my upper arms to steady me.

This was not getting any better.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern warring with amusement on his handsome face. Guess I wasn’t hiding anything from him.

“Yeah,” I breathed, slumping into him for a second, but catching myself and stepping back. I needed to put some space between us, or there was no telling what I would end up doing. I cleared my throat and tried to act nonchalant. “Yes, it’s just the heat. I’m not used to it just yet.”

That was a bald-faced lie, and judging by the smirk that graced his face, Ian knew I was full of it.

“Okay, then follow me.” He walked around me, looking over his shoulder and raising his brows when I stayed put. “Don’t you want to get out of the sun? And all this heat?”

“Yes,” I said a little too eagerly.

Ian chuckled. I followed him admiring the way he carried himself. His movements were fluid like he was floating and not simply walking. Every eye we passed, pinpointed on him. He was that magnetic. He had a swagger that did all kinds of things to my mind and body.

He came to a stop and opened the door for me, offering me a small smile in encouragement.

I dropped my head, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

Feeling his gaze on me, I walked through the door and found out it led to the garage which was abuzz with activity.

“You said you had time,” I accused him, watching people running around, doing stuff on the car, checking tires, and a whole bunch of other stuff I had no idea what it was all about. Then, there were men standing around monitors, looking intently at them and murmuring between themselves.

“Don’t worry, I’m not scheduled to come on the track for another forty minutes. Besides, for you, I’ll always make time.”

I didn’t comment, but his answer slithered through my body like a gentle touch, leaving goose bumps along my skin.