Page 49 of Happy Hour

“Oh please, spare me the bullshit. He’s an adult not a five-year old! If he has something to say, he should just say it.”

“You can be scary when you want to be and Spencer...well, there are no words for Spencer. I don’t blame them for not wanting to tell you guys.”

He looked at me with a shocked expression, his brow raised. “You’re taking their side in this?”

“I’m just saying you should be nicer to them about this.”

“I will not. If Aiden has a problem with me then fine, he can come talk to me about it.” Jameson showed his credentials to the NASCAR officials and then pulled through the gate when she waved him by. “I’m not apologizing.”

Pulling up to the motor coach in the driver’s compound, sure enough poor Aiden was sporting another new black eye but he looked relieved to have everything out in the open. At least they wouldn’t have to sneak around. Jameson and I however, we still have to sneak around.

Last night, after the race car incident, I told Jameson my crankcase needed a day’s break. It was not only sore but I had a serious case of sticker burn that was making it a little difficult to sit todayorwalk for that matter. If you’ve ever had rug burn before, the result is similar.

I had a feeling this “days break” was also part of Jameson’s anger issues today, especially when his hand was sliding up the back of my shirt once we are in the motor coach, alone, in the bedroom.

He was supposed to be getting his race suit on for practice but his camshaft had other plans.

I slapped his hand away. “Jameson...no,”

He sighed bringing his lips to my collarbone, kissing along it. “Please, honey...Ineedyou.” His voice was low and strained and was not helping my resolve one tiny bit.

“I’m sore,” I whined with a pouty lip.

“Too much align boring?” he raised an eyebrow while backing me up towards the queen-sized bed.

In case you’re wondering what the fuck align boring is, it’s a process that some do to an engine that involves taking a metal rod and pushing it through the crankcase repeatedly to make sure everything inside the crankcase was properly aligned.

“Yeah,”

“You know, align boring assures proper bearing alignment as well. With all that misalignment we took care of last night, maintenance is just as important. I’m only looking out for you.”

“I know, but you’re camshaft has too much lift,” was my next attempt.

“Are you suffering from valve binding?”

“What in the hell is valve binding?”

“That’s when a camshaft has too much lift...” his hips pushed forward showing me just how much lift he had. “It opens the valve spring too far creatingvalve binding.”

I pushed against him trying to get away. “There’s something wrong with you.” I laughed once but then gained control over my expression and crankcase who was back to making justifications the rest of me couldn’t play along with today.

“I just need a day. My ass hurts and my crankcase feels like I let the entire goddamn state of North Carolina align bore me.”

Jameson growled pushing me down on the bed, my legs automatically spread. “I will be theonlyone doing any align boring when it comes to your crankcase...onlyme.” His arms wrapped under and over my shoulders, pulling me snug against his hips.

Of course, he was already ready and my will power was crumbling for his lift and those damn justifications.

“Hello Mr. Possessive.” I chuckled trying to squirm away.

“I’m not apologizing for that either.” His grip tightened. “You will only be my friend with benefits, no one else.”

“Does that rule apply to you too?”

Oh god, shut up!

Despite this, he laughed against my neck. “Of course it does,” Jameson pushed his hips against mine revealing his excitement. “Now let’s see about this valve binding problem you have.”

“Jameson,” I tried again to push against his chest. “I’m serious I need a break.”

---