Page 20 of Happy Hour

3.Victory Lane–Sway

Victory Lane – The spot on each racetrack’s infield where the race winner parks for the celebration. It’s sometimes referred to as “winners circle”.

It was nearly midnight when Jameson finally finished with the contender conference (a press conference with the top five finishers from the race and their crew-chiefs) and post-race interviews. Now we were finally on the way to downtown Charlotte where Jameson was required to make an appearance at the Howl at the Moon bar.

The thirty-five minute drive from the track was filled with Jameson, Aiden, and Spencer recapping the race and pit stops. Spencer had been just as disappointed with the pit stops as Jameson was.

Emma, Alley and I elected to crack open the mini bar half way through the drive. Since Jimi and Nancy decided to make it a night and gladly took Lane with them, Alley and Spencer were making use of the grown up time. Lane, who wouldn’t get out of Jameson’s car after the race, ended up falling asleep in there and then carried lifelessly to the car.

“What was wrong with Bobby’s car?” Spencer asked Jameson.

“Fuck if I know. He was really loose coming out of four. Hell...I think he pegged the wall a couple times.” Jameson leaned further back in the seat and took a drink of his beer. “A couple times I thought he’d give me a push off the re-start but he just hung me out to dry.”

Alley smiled towards Jameson. “Gordon called,” she held her phone up. “The car passed post race inspection...they’re dropping the fine too.”

“Seriously?” Jameson perked up.

“It was a bullshit fine anyways.” Spencer added.

Alley slipped her phone inside her bag. “Regardless, we’re a new team. We don’t need publicity like that. It’s good they dropped it.”

Jameson just nodded, his gaze fixated on his beer.

The poor guy was beat. He’d just spent four hours manhandling a race car—he had a right to be tired.

If it were me, I’d be curled up in bed right now.

Eventually the talk turned to what we were all going to drink once we got to the bar. Howl at the Moon had some of the best drinks around, like the Purple Rain.

As luck would have it, the Omni hotel we were staying at was just up the street. I had a feeling we might want the short drive after this escapade.

I sat there silently listening and drinking my beer beside Jameson.

When we first got inside the limo there was about a foot between us. Every so often, Jameson scooted over to whisper something to me and never moved back.

So now, there we were shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, left leg-to-right leg and I was in pit lizard heaven.

My left hand was holding my beer and I kept my right hand busy with the outside paper label. God knows what my hands would do if they didn’t have something to occupy them. They probably would have checked out his gearshift and then moved on to figure out size gears he was running.

You sound totally retarded.

Jameson showered before we left and changed into a pair of jeans that matched my skirt and a black button down shirt that he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Emma dressed him, in case you were wondering how we ended up matching. He was insanely hot and smelled even better with the faint smells of racing fuel and burnt rubber lingering on his skin.

If only they made racing fuel cologne. I laughed at myself thinking back to the commercials they used to do with racing fuel as cologne.

Jameson turned his head towards me, grinning when he heard my chuckle. “Get drunk with me tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea sport.” I objected shaking my head. I crossed my legs and Jameson’s eyes that were once focused on my face slowly moved to my bare thighs.

His eyes met mine again and his intense stare had me blushing in seconds. He didn’t say anything for a long moment just looked at me until Spencer’s laugh interrupted us.

Jameson smirked and licked his lips in a deliberate casual way. His head angled to one side before he brought his hand up to his face and rubbed down the sharp line of his jaw, his eyes holding mine. “I just won the Coca-Cola 600,” his nose scrunched in the cutest way and motioned with two fingers for me to lean closer, so I did. Then he whispered in my ear. “That’s a big deal.” I felt his lips graze my earlobe. “Weneed to celebrate.”

“Fine,” I huffed pulling away from him slightly and pretended to pout while he smiled in triumphantly next to me.

I think I let out a noise that was near a squeak but closer to a snort, it just sounded stupid and not at all sexy.

I wasn’t mad he wanted to celebrate by drinking. I needed the liquid courage tonight more than ever. I just didn’t want to appear tooeager.

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