Magnetic Shift (11 page)

To avoid another confrontation with Colton, I rode back to the house with Dean and immediately jumped in the shower. Afterwards, I returned to the kitchen and sat down for dinner with Dean, Lorna, and Annabelle, who fidgeted endlessly in her booster seat. Lorna placed a serving of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and salad in front of me. Everything smelled so yummy, my taste buds couldn’t wait to savor the flavors of a home-cooked meal. It had been so long. I looked over at the empty place setting next to me. “Where’s Colton?”

“Cotton,” Annabelle gleefully shrieked.

I giggled, still finding it adorable that she couldn’t pronounce his name right.

Lorna reached for the butter at the center of the table. “Friends of his from town picked him up a half hour ago while you were in the shower.”

“Oh.” It’s not like I planned to apologize. I still thought I should leave things the way they were, but his absence rankled. It wasn’t his fault I’d been born a magnetic freak. I wasn’t being fair by taking out my frustrations on him. Ah, crap. Maybe I did owe him an apology.

Later that night, I sat outside at the bottom of his stairs and waited for him. By then, my urge to fix the situation was all I could think about. Colton had been nothing but nice to me, and I’d shit all over it. I’d even brought him a peace offering—a piece of leftover cheesecake Lorna had made for dessert. Time passed, and darkness fell. I looked up at the stars in the clear night’s sky. They shined brighter then I’d ever seen them. Mama used to love looking up at the stars on warm summer nights. I always thought it so boring to spend hours just looking up at the sky, but now I cherished the memory of those moments I had with her.

Bright headlights pulled into the driveway and interrupted my thoughts. Music blared from the yellow Scion’s open windows. The driver stepped out and stood behind his open door, laughing at something. A tall brunette climbed out of the passenger seat and folded the seat forward. Colton stepped out from the back seat of the two-door coupe.

“It was a blast hanging out with you again. We should do it more often,” the driver said to him.

“Yeah, man, but it’s the busy season, you know that.”

“It’s good to have you back in town.”

“It’s good to be back.”

The girl wrapped her arms around Colton’s neck and pecked him on the cheek. “We should all go to the movies next week.” She looked at him as if by all, she meant just the two of them. But then she added, “Maybe we could finally meet this Lexi chick.”

I stiffened at the sound of my name, realizing they couldn’t see me sitting in the shadows.

“Nah, don’t count on it.” Colton slid his hands into his back pockets and hunched his shoulders. “She … kinda doesn’t like to talk much. I don’t really think she’s the type that would enjoy hanging with us, if you catch my drift?”

My jaw swung open. What? I clamped my mouth shut, analyzed my surroundings, and flung a discarded decking screw I sensed on the ground near the front veranda at the back of his leg.

“Ouch, what the hell was that?”

“What?” the girl asked, backing away from him.

Colton reached down, picked up the screw, and rubbed the long scratch down his calf.

“This”—he held out the screw to show her—“freakin’ thing scratched me.”

“Aww, poor baby,” she said, giving him another kiss on the cheek.

I looked away for a second to control myself from sending anything else flying—this time at her head. Was I jealous? No. Couldn’t be. I was too mad at Colton to be jealous … right?

“Anyway,” the driver said, “give us a call if you’re free next week.”

“Will do.”

The guy got back in his car. The girl gave him the seductive
“call me” gesture while mouthing the words, then got back in the car and shut the door. Colton waved as they drove off, and then walked toward the stairs. He froze when he saw me, his face dropping as if fifteen daggers were pointed directly at him. A tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn’t realized my eyes had welled with them. I stood and stepped toward him.

“Lexi! What are you …?” He bit his lip, likely realizing what I’d overheard, and knew he needed to come up with some lame excuse.

“Here.” I held out the Saran-wrapped plate and fork.

He glanced at it, but made no attempt to take it from me.

“What’s this?”

“I saved you a piece of cake to apologize for earlier today, but for some odd reason, I don’t feel very apologetic at the moment. You know … because I ‘don’t like to talk much.’” I mimicked his faint drawl. “Or maybe it’s because I just learned that you don’t think I’m good enough to meet your friends.”

“Lexi, that’s not what I … I can explain.”

“Please do. I’d really like to see you squirm your way out of this one.” I kept my expression stern, but I couldn’t get my face to stop throbbing.

He just stared at me, his lips twitching as if trying to form words.

“That’s what I thought.” I stormed past him, shoving the plate in his hands as I did so, and headed back to the house.

“Lexi, wait!”

I closed the door behind me and didn’t look back.

chapter nine

Today we were flying out to Phoenix. I’d managed to avoid Colton like the plague all day yesterday and most of the morning, but he wasn’t making it easy. He even had the nerve to try to corner me at breakfast, but I’d successfully snaked passed him and locked myself in my room.

When it came time to leave, I climbed into the back of Dean’s crew cab pickup truck, giving Colton the front seat. No way was I going to let him stare at the back of my head for the entire ride.

“Okay, you two.” Dean hoisted himself into the driver’s seat in front of me and pulled his door shut. “What’s up with the silent treatment?”

I leaned my head against the window. “It’s nothing, Dean. I promise. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Colton looked back at me. Our eyes met. His gaze tugged at my emotions, but the hurtful words he’d said about me still lingered in the back of my mind. Not once had he tried to apologize. All he kept trying to do was explain why he’d said
them. Explain what, exactly? Clearly, he’d meant every word. Why had he been so nice if he didn’t consider me the type of girl he could introduce to his friends? I mean, I may be a freak, but he didn’t know that. What was it about me that was so not their type?

I looked away and stared out at the scenery passing by my window. Dean didn’t pry or try to make small talk, and I was grateful.

When we boarded the jet, I sat in the same seat I’d sat in last week, thinking that Colton would have the nerve to sit next to me. He did. I debated changing seats, but then I’d have to explain to Dean why. I buckled myself in and kept my hands in my lap, remembering what had happened last time. Dean took his paperwork out and kept himself busy, leaving me to stare out the window.

The jet turned and headed down the runway. The air to my left tensed. Colton looked so scared and fragile—the urge to comfort him pounded against my chest, but I resisted. I couldn’t let him get to me again. The jet lifted off the ground. Colton sucked in a breath, reached over and yanked my hand from my lap, threading his fingers between mine.

I scowled at him, but his eyes were shut tight and his body jittered with anxiety. My insides melted. I couldn’t take away his only comfort, as much as I hated him right now. I knew what it was like to feel scared and vulnerable about something out of my control. I stared down at our hands, wondering what it would be like to hold his hand for real. To feel the warmth of his skin seep through mine while knowing that it was because he wanted to feel the same thing, not because he was latching on to help himself cope with his fear.

Stop. Stop it. You’re anti-social and not his type, remember?

The seatbelt light turned off. Colton released my hand, unbuckled his seatbelt and hurried to his cushion at the back of the aisle. Once seated, he leaned back and glanced up at me. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” then hid his eyes under the brim of his ball cap.

Sorry about what? For what he’d said, or for using my hand as a coping mechanism? It didn’t matter. Either way, staying mad at him now was going to be a challenge.

When it came time to land, Colton returned to his seat and gave me the saddest look I’d ever seen. The one a puppy would give his master when in trouble for peeing on the carpet. I let out a soft sigh and slapped my hand onto the seat between us. Even though I knew it was coming, my body flinched the second I felt his fingers lace with mine. I was still angry, only now it was with myself. I had let my emotions be affected by him again. I was growing weak, and I didn’t like it.

The wheels of the jet hit solid ground and rolled to a stop. Without looking back, I tore my hand out of Colton’s grasp and got as far from him as I could.

Dean kept busy all afternoon and the better part of the morning with Link and his crew, preparing and qualifying his car for the next day. He also stuck around to watch Colton’s practice runs. I, on the other hand, wasn’t needed, and took the opportunity to do some sightseeing and to catch up on some of my online course assignments. I didn’t want to fall behind, and it was an excellent excuse to keep some distance between
Colton and myself.

He’d tried to corner me a few times, but each time his PR rep, Nancy, came and whisked him away for interviews and sponsor promo shoots. My plan of staying in the motor coach until race day was working out nicely until my phone chimed with a text message from Dean, asking me to meet him atop the hauler for Colton’s qualifying runs. With a sigh and a figurative kick in the butt, I left the motor coach and headed out to meet with him.

I still didn’t understand why I needed to follow Colton and his team to every race, but Dean assured me that my dismantling skills would someday come in handy. Unfortunately, that meant many more weekends and handholding jet rides with Colton.

Dean stood at the railing timing Mitch Benson, the returning champ and, according to the sportscasters, the lead contender for this year’s championship. But they also said Colton might be his biggest competitor for the top spot in The Chase—the top ten drivers in season points that advance to contend for the cup championship. Dean motioned for me to wait. He turned back, raised his stopwatch, and clocked Mitch as he crossed the start/finish line. “Shoot. He’s going to be hard to beat.” Dean removed his headset. “It’s nice to see you out and about.”

“Did I have a choice?”

Dean frowned. “Listen, I don’t know what Colton did to get you so upset, but you can’t let it keep you locked up in your room every weekend.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Dean stepped toward the cooler. “I have a gift for you and I wanted you to test it out before tomorrow’s race.” He picked up a turquoise-blue headset and a scanner, turned them over, and
passed his thumb over the black lettering printed on the side. “Got them personalized.” He grinned and handed them over. “You like?”

They were new and shiny without a scratch or a scuff. My full name, Lexi Adams, stood out against the light turquoise color on the left ear piece. “Are you kidding? I love them. Thank you so much.”

“The dial is tuned to our channel. Go ahead and take them for a test run—Colton’s about to take the track.”

I clipped the scanner to my waist and placed the headset over my ears.

“You’re next,” I heard Lenny say to Colton.

“You think I don’t know that?” Colton replied, disdain in his voice.

I pulled one earphone off and nudged Dean. “Who pissed in his corn flakes this morning?”

“He’s been like this since Wednesday. No one’s been able to calm him down.”

I replaced my earphone and stood off to the side. He couldn’t seriously be like this because of me, could he?

Colton took the track next and hammered up to full throttle, zipping around the track.

“She still feels pretty loose,” Colton grumbled.

“We made the changes you wanted. We don’t know what else it could be.”

Dean cued his mic. “Colton, just calm down and give us your best lap.”

“Yes, boss,” he replied, his tone harsh and mean.

Colton finished his laps. “How was that, boss?”

“Fourth,” Dean said. “Possibly fifth. There’s one last team
still to qualify.”

“Damn it,” Colton yelled, so loud that my headset screeched. “Now, Colton, that’s a good start.”

“Not good enough.”

“Colton!” Dean’s face hardened. “Okay. That’s enough. Get your ride back to the garage and see me in my office ASAP.”

Silence fell over the airwaves. Dean yanked his headset off and stormed down the ladder. I paced a few laps along the railing before making my way down. I didn’t want to bump into Colton on his way to the hauler. The crew huddled outside the side door, trying to listen in.

“Guys, I don’t think—”

Jimmy shushed me and leaned in close to the door. Not that he needed to—I could hear Dean and Colton yelling from where I stood.

“I don’t care if you have personal issues and I don’t care to know what they are, but when you’re out on that track, you’re going to be respectful to me and to your team. We aren’t the only ones on this frequency, Colt. Fans out there and at home are listening in, as well as officials and any of our sponsor reps who might be in attendance. Man up and stop taking your foul mood out on everyone around you. Apologize and move on.”