Smokin' & Spinnin' (34 page)

“It was your choice to keep your job,” Ryan rebounds. “You could have quit. You said you were going to quit!”

I guffaw at Ryan, who looks hurt by my choice to stay. I am confused. “Number one, I was not gonna give you that satisfaction. And number two, I didn’t have a choice.”

He looks confused.
Oh no! I shouldn’t have said that
. I quickly remember Garrett’s instructions to me. The rage has blown my brain cells.

“Forget it!” I quip.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you mean when you said you didn’t have a choice?” he snaps.

“Nothing!” I snap back. “We both have jobs to do, so let’s just do them,” I say, trying to discourage him from the topic at hand.

“Damn it, Whitney, tell me what the hell you meant.”

I falter looking into his wounded eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew!” I lie.

“Knew what?” Ryan roars.

I sigh, “If I resigned as your PR manager, your dad was going to fire you!”

He sharply turns back to me, and I can tell this news has shocked him to his core. Ryan blinks rapidly as if he has been slapped.

I don’t give him a chance to respond. “Yes, it’s true. I only stayed to save your ass, so the very least you can do is show me some freaking respect. I think I deserve that much after what you did to me!” I shout as I look down at my broken leg.

Thankfully, the pit area is empty, and no one is around to witness our public meltdown. Ryan paces the pit box, his body is rigid with pure rage. He runs his hands through his hair, and I know exactly how he is feeling. He leans back on the pit wall with his head in his hands, still silent. I don’t let him rest to process this information. I continue to release six weeks’ worth of feelings and aggression off my chest.

“And for the record, your little stunt with Annalise this morning was complete and utter bullshit!”

He looks up at me quickly, scowling. His blue eyes turn gray and are smoldering. I continue pointing my finger at him.

“I know exactly what you’re doing. But my question is this, does she know you’re only fucking her to make me jealous!” My rage has given way to hurt, but it feels so good to yell at him.

Ryan gawks, “Why the hell do you care who I fuck? You made me leave, remember?”

Those words cut me to the core. I did. I made him go. Again, another fault that is all mine.

Ryan stands up to pace the pit box again, but remains silent.

“Why, Ryan? What are you trying to do to me? Haven’t you hurt me enough?” I mutter.

He abruptly stops, but doesn’t look at me, and I can tell he is hurt, too, by the desperate look on his face. I flash back to the morning in my hospital room, and I fire again. “I mean, you didn’t even apologize for what happened to me.”

Suddenly, Ryan leaps at me, and we are nose to nose. His vehemence causes me to jump back and almost trip over my disabled leg. Ryan reaches out, grabs my arm, and jerks me upright to keep me from falling backward. He tightens his grip on my arm.

I draw a sharp intake of breath as he roars through gritted teeth, “You didn’t give me a fucking chance!”

Tears spring to my eyes. I swallow and fight them back, but Ryan realizes instantly that he has frightened me with his outburst and immediately softens his expression as he steps back and releases my arm.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I can’t do this, Ryan, not here, not now.” My voice is wavering. I stumble back on my aching leg. A regretful look washes over Ryan’s gorgeous face as he reaches out to steady me again, but softly this time. His touch resonates throughout my body and calms me instantly. It is amazing the power he still holds over me.

My radio interrupts. “Whitney!” Ben barks. “Whatever is going on over there, wrap it up now!”

Where the heck is he?
I wonder as I look around. I sigh.

“Done,” I reply back instantly.

“We have a lot of eyes on us today.” Ben castigates us both knowing that Ryan can hear his reprimand too.

Ryan stalks away without even looking back at me. I feel as though he has punched me in the stomach. My shoulders fall in defeat because I know we won’t be able to resolve this until after the race, or even at all.

Chapter 38

T
onight’s race was very calm for lack of a better word. Ryan finished in the top twenty. He was very careful and cool on the track. Although we did not speak again after our early morning argument, I was very proud of him for advancing his qualifying position from twenty-sixth to finish twelfth. The team needed a good finish. Hopefully, this means we can all move forward and get back to work. I vow to maintain a safe distance from Ryan so that I can do my job. There are only a dozen or fewer races left in this season, and I sincerely hope that Garrett will transfer me to another driver in November. It would be the only way for me to get over Ryan.

It is nearly midnight when I arrive back at the Jefferson. I’m so tired that I can barely see straight. I set my bag down at the door of my hotel room to find my key. My leg aches severely from the overexertion today, but I have plenty of meds for that. I just need to lie down. I swipe my key card and slowly enter the room. As soon as I take a step into the small entrance, I see an embarrassing display of fresh-cut white flowers in a white wicker basket on the main table. What!

I blink my eyes to make sure that I am not hallucinating. I close the door, set my bags down, and turn back to retrieve the basket. I snap on the bedside lamp and rip open the card. Ryan! Oh!

Tears fall instantly as a million thoughts run through my head. His words, they touch me deep down. So deep, it makes me long for Ryan. Why couldn’t he have said those words six weeks ago? I want to call him badly, but have no idea what I would even say. Is he back in Charlotte? Is she with him?

My thoughts are interrupted by an incoming message alert on my iPhone. I grab my phone. It’s
Ryan!

_________________________

Are you back at the hotel?

__________________________

I reply as I feel my blood rushing throughout my body.

________________________________________

Yes. The flowers are beautiful, but I am
most thankful for your words.

________________________________________

Ryan’s response is instant.

____________________________________________

It’s the least I could do. I really am sorry.

_____________________________________________

I take a deep breath before responding again.

______________________________________

Me too! Good job today. Keep it up, and
maybe we will both get to keep our jobs!

_______________________________________

I try to keep the mood light. I don’t want another repeat of this morning.

His response is clipped and short.

_____________

Yea. Maybe so.

_____________

I wait a few minutes to respond because I am not sure of what to say next, when another message from him comes through.

_________________

I need to see you!

__________________

A lump rises in my throat. No! But my fingers disobey my mind.

_______________

When? Tomorrow?

________________

He pleads with me.

___________

No, tonight.

___________

Why? I can’t deal with a replay from this morning.

_________________________

It’s so late, Ryan.

_________________________

Ryan’s next message reads.

__________________________________________

I don’t care. I need to see you now.

__________________________________________

Tears begin to pool in my eyes again. Truth is…I need to see him too. The last six weeks have been pure hell. I can’t fight him anymore. I
don’t want to fight him anymore. We need to talk this through so we can at least get past what happened.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I type.

__

OK.

__

He responds quickly.

________

OK what?

________

Duh!

____________________________________________

You know where I am. My flight doesn’t leave until the morning.

_____________________________________________

My iPhone sings out with a new message.

______________

Open the door.

_____________

I am confused.

_____________________

Text me when u arrive.

_____________________

Ryan’s last message takes my breath as I read.

_______________________

I’m already here.

________________________

Whoa! Wait! Where!

I walk to the door, open it slowly, and peer out into the hallway. Ryan is sitting on the floor with his back propped up against the wall. He is his normal gorgeous, smoldering self. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he is dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and his leather jacket. He has one knee pulled up and his cell phone in his hand. His trademark smirk is replaced with a sad, dejected manner, emotions that I know too well.

I stand outside my door, lean against it, and fold my arms in front of my chest. “So…what would you have done if I had said no?” I say casually.

Ryan rises from the floor gracefully and is at my side within a blink of an eye. He bends down and lifts me off my feet, cradling me tightly against his chest. I hold on to him tightly and snuggle my face into his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

“I was not gonna take no for an answer,” he says as he crosses the threshold into my hotel room and kicks the door shut behind us. Ryan carries me back through the room and gently sets me down on the sofa. I must have a confused look on my face because he says, “We need to talk first.”
Really? Do we?

With that statement, the air around us has considerably changed from light to tense. Formerly, when Ryan would sweep me off my feet, we would go straight to the bedroom or nearest available surface.

Ryan begins to pace the little square area of my room. He looks nervous. “There are several things that I need to say that I should have said to you that morning. I…I…” he stammers, then stops. “Damn it!” He looks angry as he fishes his cell phone out of his back pocket.
It must have been on vibrate because I didn’t hear it ring. “What?” Ryan snaps into the phone. “Yes, I am with her. No, everything is fine. I will take it from here. What? No…take my flight back to Charlotte. I will take care of her from here on out. Yes. OK. Oh! Max…thank you!” Ryan presses the power button on his cell phone, turning it off.
Max? What the hell?

“What was that about?” I exclaim. Ryan shakes his head at me. I prompt him again. “Ryan…”

He throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “It was Max. I hired him to watch over you after the accident!” he says sheepishly.

“What?” I gasp as I put it all together.

Ryan shrugs. “You didn’t want me around, but I had to know that you were OK! That you were protected from all this.”

I sink down into the couch, overtaken by his confession. I cannot believe that he did that.

“So, Max has been what…following me for the past six weeks?” I blink at Ryan wildly, trying desperately to understand why.

“Yes, the media storm alone was crazy enough, not to mention Colton. And I didn’t know what he was capable of.” He shrugs again.

I take a sharp breath in. “So, you know that I was at your house last week.” Ryan looks me dead in the eye and silently nods. I swallow the huge lump in my throat.

“I tried to call you, but when you answered, I knew…Your voice…I could tell that you were upset. And I couldn’t handle it. So, I hung up.”

All this information is too much for me to process, but one fact is evident: Ryan still cares for me. My chest swells with pride, but I am still so defeated.

As I sit in silent shock, Ryan takes the opportunity to start talking again about the accident. “Look, Whitney…there are several things that I want to say to you.”

I hold my hand up to stop him because this revelation about Max is enough for me to process right now. “Ryan, please, there is no need to rehash it!”