Page 93 of How You See Me
All the fluttery butterflies, nervous moths, and scared little bees start swirling in my stomach.
“Go as fast as you want,” he encourages. “Stay in your lane and the others will leave you alone.”
“You didn’t stay in yours when that teenager waved at you with his middle finger.”
He laughs, a true hearty one that comes straight from his belly. “I deserved it, but you don’t have to play the game. Just do what you’re comfortable with and breathe.”
“Okay.” I cross my hands over my chest. “Warrior mode set.”
He flashes the hand motion before climbing out. I could watch him squeeze his big frame through that narrow kart opening all day. It’s equal parts masculine strength and athletic agility, a hypnotizing show all on its own.
Hayes offers a hand to help me out, and I’m soon lodged against him again.I’d take advantage of this lull and enjoy him while I work up the nerve for my next task if all remaining racers weren’t already in their karts. The crowd has thinned out, and the countdown for the next race has already begun. There’s no time for making out or second-guessing.
I pick the pink kart to show my fear where to stick it in style and secure my seatbelt.
My heart is screaming for my brain to come to its senses and stop me when Hayes leans down, his hands braced on the kart’s frame. “Want me to ride with you?”
Anabsolutelypopulates but I need to do this on my own. Show him and myself that I’m not completely hopeless.
“Thank you, but I’ve got this.”
His pride in me shines as he strolls to the spectator side of the platform.
A whistle sounds, letting us know the race will start soon, and my heart kicks up a few gears. I blow Hayes akiss for a distraction and tap my chest with my other hand. Breathe in. Breathe out.
From where he stands, I hope he sees the brave me and not the unsteady mess clawing at my insides and trying to stop this madness.
I need to do this. Hayes’ idea to help me rip my fear off like a bandage was a good one. But now that I’m behind the wheel, nightmares of my parents’ crash start playing before me. The wreckage, the sorrow, the emptiness that followed. And then there’s Jordan’s accident. He spent several weeks in the hospital, his heart stopping three times before he stabilized. I stood by helpless not knowing if he’d ever come back to me when he was wheeled away for multiple surgeries and again when seizures tormented his body afterward.
So, yeah. I’m not only scared of driving. I hate it with every fiber of my soul, but it’s time I stop letting it control my life.
I grip the steering wheel with both hands, and when the green light flashes, I slam my foot onto the gas pedal.
Take that, fear.
The kart jerks forward with a screech, and I let out the tension with a scream so loud it surprises even me. Around the first corner, the wheels skid, but I recover quickly, letting off the gas a bit.
Other karts zip past me, but I don’t care. I’m driving! I stared down the demon of fear and didn’t back down. The crashes, the hospital stays, and the brokenness I looselyrepaired over time try to grind their way back, but they don’t win this time.
Yanking the steering wheel to the right, I’m coming up to the spot where Hayes awaits. He jumps and cheers as I approach, both arms punching the air in celebration. I swear moisture lines his eyes, and my heart swells so much it hurts. He’s proud of me.
For once, I’m proud of myself, too. Proud to be here by his side. I couldn’t have done this without him. If it were possible, twelve years wouldn’t have passed before I took the wheel again.
On the final lap, I catch Hayes snapping a picture of me as I cross the finish line. I may have come in dead last, but it’s a victory to me. I didn’t just face my fear. I squashed it like a bug on the windshield. And Hayes stands proudly in my winner’s circle. What could be better than this?
The kart sputters to a stop, and he's already there, scooping me up like a champion claiming his prize.
“You did it,” he whispers against my hair.
I cling to him, relishing how good this achievement and this man feels.
“How does it feel?”
“Amazing.”
“Want to ride some more or get started on that reward we talked about?” His voice has a raspy, I-want-you tone, and as much as I’d love to be wrapped up in him in all the ways, we need to talk to Jordan first.
“I should probably practice a little more and better earn what you’re hinting at.”
