“You’re right,” I said. “I just hate that catcalling shit. But I should go.”
She stood there a moment longer, then took a breath. “Listen, Dean—I’m sorry. I’m just… Things aren’t exactly working out how I wanted them to. I don’t know if it’s practicing here on this track, or with you, but I’m not loving racing as much as I thought I would. You know? I mean, it’s exhilarating but… It’s kind of nerve-wracking too.”
I knew exactly what she meant. Behind us, the boys had apparently lost interest in us. They kicked off on their bikes, and for a moment, the whine of their engines drowned everything else out.
“It’s different on the Speedway,” I said, “but tougher in some ways too. There’s no shame in deciding you don’t want to do it.”
Stella seemed to stiffen. “I do want to do it. That’s what I came here for.”
She threw a glance at me then quickly looked away.
I took a step toward her. We were alone again, at least until the bikes came around the corner in a minute. “Then let me talk to Colin. He’s just pulling his usual shit. He did the same thing with me. In fact, it probably means he cares about you and wants to make sure you’re really up for it. It’s not a walk in the park, racing.”
Stella smiled kind of ruefully. “No. I’m good. I’ll talk to him myself. Once I decide whether or not I really want to participate in this qualifier.”
“There’ll be other races,” I said.
“I know. But this is the big one, right? The Oak Bender?
“Yeah. Hey, I know you can handle yourself, Stella. You’re tougher than half the dudes I know. And I’ve known some tough dudes.”
She flipped her ponytail. “I know.”
I laughed, happy to slip back into our familiar, arm’s-length, safe place. But as I got into my truck to take off to check on Dad, I felt the strangest kind of unease inside of me. It was only when Stella was in my rearview that I realized what it was. I didn’t know if I wanted to still be in that arm’s-length place.
Chapter 8
Stella
I waved Dean off,grateful to have a moment to myself.
Sort of by myself. The kids on the dirt bikes whizzed by, their motors screaming through the peaceful country air.
Thank God these kids had shown up when they did. Even if they were checking out my ass. I could tell they were pretty innocent.
Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have gone over and given them a piece of my mind if I weren’t so distracted. If I hadn’t thought doing that would have given Dean the all-clear to go over and knock them out one by one.
What was his problem, anyway? We were friends. We’d made that clear between both of us. I didn’t need to be distracted from my goals, and he kept himself buttoned up for some unknown reason—I bet something to do with his dad. That’s what had happened with my brothers, anyway. They’d been so messed up with their relationships with our father that they’d cut themselves off from happiness, until they’d each met women who’d shown them it was safe to love someone.
That was what Dean needed, I realized with sudden clarity. My stomach did a twist when I thought about him being happy in love like my older brothers. Walking through the square in downtown Oak Bend like that couple we had passed, his arm around… Victoria.
For the briefest moment, I let myself think about being the one under his arm. Smiling up at him, nestled into his side. my heart softening…
Even in my imagination, it hurt so exquisitely I placed a hand at my chest.
The bikes came by again, the boys hooting. One of them waved at me. I rolled my eyes, heading over to the stock car to lock it up. I’d asked Dean last weekend if it was safe to leave out here, and he’d said nobody would mess with it when they saw the wordsOak Bend Automotivepainted on the driver’s side door.
I dropped the keys in my pocket.
No, I wasn’t the girlfriend type. I was the type of girl who liked showing everyone how tough I was, not how soft.
Suddenly, I was run through with anger.
Dean knew all this about me. He had no right to act insulted when some damn kids were checking me out. And he also had no right to be so worried about me all the time. He was as bad as my brothers, who had both been against this racing thing from the beginning.
It was just like how it had been when I’d decided I wanted to be the one who followed in Dad’s footsteps and run the garage. Nobody had taken me seriously. Not even Dad. I’d had to work twice as hard as everyone else. Mechanic training at the trade college had been the worst—I’d been one of only two women there, and we’d had to deal with every idiotic comment under the sun.
Not by all of them—there had been some guys who’d stood up for us. Just like my brothers stood up for me if they were around when someone said something disparaging.