Twisted Mind (Chequered Flag #2) (8 page)

Chapter Twelve

Dustin

It turned out I was right; you can’t just buy a seahorse. As protected animals, they can only be purchased from certain breeders, none of which lived near us. What I
had
been wrong about though was assuming that would be enough to deter Tazia.

Once we’d returned from the pet shop I thought that would be the end of the subject and I could use the aquarium she’d cajoled me into buying for fish. However, Tazia proceeded to research and phone all of the breeders given to us by the pet shop over the following week until she found one she was happy with. When she’d done all of that she’d moved like a whirlwind through my flat setting up the tank per the instructions she’d been given.

She’d quickly become a constant presence in my home because I couldn’t find it in my heart to dampen her excitement. If anyone had been watching us for the past week they’d have assumed the pets were for her. She became a force to be reckoned with—cleaning, organising, planning—you name it and she’d already thought about or done it.

Over the days she’d foisted numerous leaflets on me to read about seahorse care and I started to think she couldn’t have picked a more difficult pet to look after. Doubts seeped into my mind about whether I could realistically take care of one, yet Tazia was relentless.

She left last night telling me she’d be back at five the next morning, and for some reason I’d shrugged it off, not believing it possible.

Why I thought that I’d never know, and it happened to be the second thing I got wrong.

At five a.m. sharp, Tazia knocked on my door and I opened it to find her looking way too awake and caffeinated. Early starts were nothing out of the ordinary for me, but in between races I liked to relax.

“Ready to get a seahorse?”

I shook my head. “Not in the slightest. I think you’re more excited about this than me.”

She still hadn’t told me how or what she needed help from and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling it was similar to my situation. Though she’d denied having an abortion, something didn’t fit. Every time I thought about the potential theories, fear raced through me at the possibility of getting close to another woman like Elora. I had to consciously remind myself that wasn’t the case with Tazia. She’d already proved herself different, kind and caring, whereas Elora was manipulative and violent. However, Elora had once started off like Tazia and until Taz told me what really happened to her I decided to keep my distance emotionally. That way she couldn’t break me further.

“How come I’ve never seen this pet in your flat?” I asked.

“It died.”

My mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry.”

She batted away my comment with one hand. “Don’t be. He lived a good life, right up until the ripe old age of just over one year.”

Only a confused croak came from my throat. “What kind of animal was it?”

“A stick insect.”

Dumbfounded, it took me a moment to respond. “A stick insect?”

“Yeah. Why? Is there something wrong with keeping a stick insect?”

I shook my head. “Why the hell do I get the most awkward pet ever and you get a stick insect?” I folded my arms. “I feel railroaded.”

Taz sighed. “Don’t be like that, Dust.”

I leaned against the doorframe, holding my ground with an exaggerated pout.

Tazia rolled her eyes with a huff. “Do you want a stick insect instead?”

“Of course not, they creep me out. I’d never be able to spot it in its tank and then I’d be freaked out about finding it in my bed.” I feigned a shiver at the thought.

“Then why all of the fuss?”

“Only making the point you could have picked a simpler pet for me to own.”

Tazia pulled a hand out from behind her back with sly amusement. I hadn’t noticed she was hiding anything until she moved. “Okay, we’ll go back to the pet shop and get you something else. Let me take these éclairs I baked for the journey home first since we’re not travelling anymore.”

“That’s playing dirty,” I grumbled. It was how she’d been getting me to go along with this asinine plan all week. Every time I said something negative, or protested she bribed me with baked goods. Anthony and my trainer were going to have a fit next week if I’d put on weight, but I couldn’t resist. Tazia had been right when she compared her food to heaven in a box.

“I can play dirtier if you want.” She took a step closer to me. The smell of chocolate, cream, and sugar engulfed me with the heat from her body.

I gazed down at her with a crooked smirk. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded, drawing her lip into her mouth.

I leaned in. I could see her pulse racing in her neck and she fought to keep her breath steady as I closed the gap so barely centimetres remained between us. Her strawberry jam scented breath swept over me and I kept my eyes fixed on hers when I murmured, “How dirty?”

“As dirty as it takes.” She swallowed. Her words came out in a choked gasp and because her gaze never left mine she didn’t see me moving my hand slowly towards the box of éclairs.

Her eyelids fluttered shut then in one swift movement, I snatched the box from her hand.

She squealed and stared at me in shock as I backed into my flat, heat flaring on her cheeks.

“Bad luck, Taz.” I made a show of biting into one of the éclairs and groaned in approval around the mouthful. When I went to take a second bite, Tazia moved quicker than I anticipated and squashed the pastry into my face. Cream exploded out of the sides, melted chocolate coated my nose, and Tazia smeared it over me, making sure to cover every inch of my jaw.

“Is that dirty enough for you?”

I swiped the back of my hand over my eyes to remove the cream blinding me and shook it off into the container I still held. Blinking a few times, I homed in on Tazia with feigned irritation. “Fine, if you’re going to start destroying perfectly good food, I’ll go, but you’ll pay for that at some point. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I headed for my bedroom, making sure I kept the éclairs with me. I wouldn’t let Tazia ruin delicious food for the sake of a food fight. It didn’t matter how much I liked seeing her riled up or flustered. Food was food and no one messed with my chocolate.

* * *

It took us eight hours to finally arrive home with two seahorses, which were acclimating to the water. Tazia hadn’t moved from in front of the tank since, watching the little guys float around for hours, and I had to admit the pale blue glow from the aquarium was relaxing, though most of my attention remained fixated on Tazia. Her stillness and focus mesmerised me. She appeared content inside her own head and I couldn’t help wishing I could have felt even a sliver of her peace. Left alone, my thoughts still ran wild over what could have been.

Tazia glanced at me over her shoulder. “What are you going to call them?”

“Bumblebee and Ironhide?” I don’t know why I felt the need to get Taz’s approval since the names came out more like a question.

“You mean like the Transformers?”

The fact she knew the characters by name momentarily impressed me. “Yeah.”

She spun to face me on her chair, her nose and mouth scrunched up like the names left a bad taste in her mouth. “You can’t name them after lumps of metal.”

“Why not?”

“They’re delicate and gentle creatures.”

“Okay, how about Mario and Luigi?”

She crossed her arms, her lips pursed. “No.”

“Oh come on, Mario and Luigi fits them perfectly. They’re tiny and funny to watch.”

“No.” She repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Donatello and Leonardo?”

“You can’t use turtle names for seahorses. You’ll give them a complex.”

She sounded serious so I held in my laughter. “Technically they’re artists.”

“You were
so
not thinking of the artists when you picked those names.”

She was right. Not that I would admit it. “I thought they were my pets. Why am I even listening to you?”

“Because I’m awesome and I’m stopping a grave injustice.”

I arched my eyebrow. “What would you call them then?”

Tazia bit down on the finger she’d placed at the corner of her mouth and cast her gaze to the ceiling in thought. When she released her finger, her lips quirked and her eyes danced when they met mine. “Bubbles and Squishy.”

“We are
not
calling them Bubbles and Squishy.”

She pouted. “Why not? They’re cute and they deserve cute names.”

“If I can’t name them after the Transformers, Mario Brothers, or Ninja Turtles, you are definitely not calling them Bubbles and Squishy. They’re men, so they deserve manly names,” I countered.

Tazia rolled her eyes and muttered something. I couldn’t decipher what she’d said, just that it didn’t sound flattering by her tone.

I was about to suggest two more names when her phone rang on top of my coffee table. Glancing down at the screen, I caught sight of the name Max as Tazia swept the device up. Her eyes bugged and her entire body stiffened when she saw the display.

She puffed out the air forcefully, slid her finger over the screen, and silenced the ringing. When she placed the device back on the table and glanced up at me again it was only the fact she tried so hard not to let her reaction to the call show that stopped me from questioning her.

“What about Michael and Ralf?” I said, and I knew I’d made the right choice when her expression brightened fleetingly.

“What cartoon are they from?”

I barked out a laugh. “They’re drivers, Taz. You know, Michael and Ralf Schumacher?”

“Oh.” A blush broke out on her cheeks and she dipped her head so her hair fell forward to cover her face.

“Do they pass?”

She pretended to think about it. “I guess it’s as good as it’s going to get. At least they’re people and not fictional characters.”

“Ralf and Michael it is then.”

“Have you ever met them?” She joined me on the sofa, hauling her broken leg up to rest on the table.

“Teo met Michael. I’m only GP2, though. We don’t really get the big names coming to our races.”

She reached out and poked my arm. “I think I’m with the wrong brother.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. Whilst she wasn’t mine and she hadn’t meant it like that, my brain couldn’t help but go there.

Even when it shouldn’t have.

After a week in her company it felt natural to be around her. Everything felt easy and effortless. I hadn’t suffered a dark turn since admitting the truth, rather I found myself gradually leaving it all behind. Not only had all of my bruises healed, the scratches on my face were barely faint pink trails now. It actually felt good to look in a mirror again. I saw the old me steadily emerging as my heart slowly stitched itself back together. Feelings had returned to my body, and with them came the realisation I wanted Tazia more than I cared to admit.

Only the reminder of the fact she still kept something from me and the worry of how it would affect me, prevented from pursuing her romantically.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there next season. I’m already in talks with a team over contracts, but don’t tell anyone. It’s top secret.”

Tazia didn’t appear to be paying attention. She concentrated hard on something, her teeth gritted together.

“Are you okay?” I asked when her hand started hovering around her cast.

“Do you have a pencil or something? My leg is driving me nuts.”

I opened the drawer in the mini table next to the sofa. “Does a ruler work?”

I hadn’t even finished speaking when her hand shot out in a grabby gesture. “Gimme.”

She snatched it from me. The second she wedged it between her cast and her leg to scratch the irritable spot she moaned. The sound came out throaty and a little breathless. It was wrong, but when she combined it with a sensual “Oh God,” my cock twitched.

She made these little moans of approval, only adding to my problem. Each one sent a spike of pleasure straight to my groin as I imagined making her call out in pleasure for an entirely different reason. With every position I imagined, my dick hardened until it rubbed against the rough grain of my jeans.

Seahorses.

Dead seahorses

Wounded animals.

Nothing I thought of became enough of a distraction to quell my erection.

Elora
.

That solved the problem immediately, and mercifully Tazia stopped what she was doing. Removing the ruler, she handed it back to me. “I can’t wait to be shot of this thing. It’s so fucking irritating.

I placed the ruler back in the drawer. “How much longer have you got to wear it?”