Wedge – This is the weight from corner-to-corner of the weight of the race car. If you increase the weight on any corner of the car, it will change the weight of the other three corners.

 

I would have given Sway anything she wanted but that wasn’t what this was about anymore. She had no idea the influence she had on me and the ability she had to completely destroy me.

I told myself I’d never let someone else have that type of power over me, but she did, and I trusted her completely with that power.

I wanted to do this the right way. The way I should have done it in the beginning. I wanted to rediscover her, slowly, and in the most intimate ways. Ways I’ve always dreamed about. I wanted to know her, all of her. In turn, I wanted her to know me in ways I’d never let anyone before.

I fell asleep wrapped around Sway enjoying the fact that she wasn’t going to push me.

When I awoke the next morning to my phone buzzing, I found that heifer of a cat, lying on my stomach.

Jesus Christ... it feels like a damn child is sitting on me.

I went to push him away, but instead he dug his claws into my bare stomach causing me to wince in pain. I didn’t like cats, I just didn’t. I would never harm one, it wasn’t like I was some serial killer or anything who started off by killing animals. I just didn’t actively care for them.

“Let go...” I whined, trying to pull him off.

What the hell was his deal or name for that matter? Sway told me what it was.

Mr. Jingle... Mr. Jungle?

“Mr. Jangles... leave him alone,” Sway moaned reaching for the cat, ripping out my skin as she did so.

Right, Mr. Jangles.

My phone continued to buzz, so I reached for it knowing it was Emma.

“Well?” Emma quietly asked me. I could tell she was smiling on the other line.

I groaned. “Why are you calling me?”

Rubbing my eyes, I drank from the bottle of water next to the bed.

“How did it go?” It sounded like she was chewing on something. She did that to piss me off knowing I hated the sounds of people eating. “Did you convince her to take your sorry ass back?”

“Do you always have to be so annoying?” I whispered, I didn’t want to wake Sway. “I have to go, though, my flight leaves in two hours, and I still have to make it back to Olympia.”

“We are talking when you get to Loudon,” she ordered.

“Whatever.”

“Bye, asshole.”

Sighing, I quietly rolled over dropping my cell phone on the floor. Sway was still asleep, curled around Mr. Jangles.

I watched her for a moment, realizing how lucky I was.

“I’ll take care of you,” I breathed softly brushing her hair off her face and kissing her forehead. “I promise.”

I hated leaving her, especially after last night. We’d talked for hours about what would happen after Charlie passed away, which I knew bothered her.

No one wanted to have both their parents gone at the age of twenty-two, or any age for that matter. Sway never displayed hate or resentment for anything that’d happened throughout her life, she took it as it came and made the best of the situation. I envied her so much for being able to do that. Some thought she was crazy, but that was Sway.

Most could learn a thing or two from her.

So many times I got asked the question, “How do you do it at such a young age?”

I assumed they were referring to the lifestyle I lived and all the commitments I had, but their cagey expressions toward me said something along the line of, “You’re fucking it all up, aren’t you?”

I got this from everyone, too—the media, the fans, my family, and now my sponsors, who shelled out millions for me to race; they all questioned me.

That wasn’t exactly the image I wanted them to see, but in actuality, I didn’t think I was fucking up. Sure, I’d made some questionable decisions so far, but I was in control, so I thought.

“Mr. Riley, can you tell us what your involvement is with Chelsea Adams?” Marcus Harding, President of Simplex Shocks and Springs, asked as I sat across a table from him.

I’d flown to Grand Forks, North Dakota, of all places to meet with Marcus and the Vice President, Bill Helm, to discuss possible sponsorship of my sprint car team but, alas, here I sat discussing my recent involvement with Chelsea. I really wanted to say: “What the fuck does this have to do with sponsorship?” but I knew how involved Tate was with Simplex. Being a family-owned business, personal relationships were something they valued, as they did with Tate.

So I kept my thoughts to myself.

I cleared my throat before answering, “My only involvement with Ms. Adams was to retrieve legal documents she supposedly had for me. When I went with her, she indicated she didn’t have them.”

“Did you sexually assault her?” Marcus asked, his hazel eyes probing and accusing.

Wanting to get my point across, I maintained eye contact with him as I responded, “I would prefer to answer that for you but, unfortunately, I’ve been advised by my attorney that since this case is still under investigation, I’m not allowed to discuss specifics.”

“I’m sure you’ll understand then that we cannot discuss further sponsorship obligations until these charges have been settled,” Bill advised with hard gargoyle eyes. “We will continue to sponsor you, for now. But please keep in mind that we do not condone this type of behavior, nor do we appreciate the aggression you’ve been displaying on the track. That’s not an image we want portrayed.”

I took a deep breath attempting to control myself.

Why the fuck they couldn’t tell me this over the goddamn phone had me seeing red. I barely had enough control to continue speaking in a normal civilized manner. Inside, my blood was boiling.

I wanted to snap, but instead, I said, “Yes, sir, I understand,” through a clenched jaw.  “Thank you for meeting with me.”

I didn’t say anything else. Though I was seething, I didn’t trust my tongue not to keep me out of trouble. My mouth had gotten me into enough hot water over the last few weeks.

Phillip had advised me that it was in my best interest not to discuss specifics with anyone and I agreed. It wasn’t their business to begin with. He was working with Chelsea’s attorney to come up with some kind of agreement regarding the charges brought against me. She told the police that I assaulted her and forced her to give me oral sex. She even went as far as to say that I held her head down while she did so, causing bruising, which she had. I never touched her aside from holding my arm to her throat. The bruises she had were on the back of her neck. I had a feeling Darrin was involved, and I wanted to figure out what the hell he was trying to prove.

With everything that happened, I knew something was going on, but I also had a job to do, a sprint car team to run, and a girlfriend who needed to know how much I loved her.

I tried once again to contact Tate but, of course, it went straight to voicemail.  So, I left yet another message: “Hey dude, it’s Jameson. I need to speak with you, call me, please!”

Tate had been avoiding my phone calls since that night in Sonoma, and I had an inkling he would be for a while. The fucked up part about it was we’d been friends for three years now. How he could believe that deceitful bitch over me was appalling. What’s worse was that he had the nerve to call Marcus without even speaking to me about it first.

Who does that?

Still fuming over my interactions with Bill and Marcus, I was now on the way to Loudon, New Hampshire, with my dad—not exactly my idea of fun.

He was once again giving me his insight, whether I wanted it or not.

He only had a few hours before he needed to be in Nebraska for a race tonight, so he insisted on flying with me. Like I said, this was not my idea of fun. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my dad; it was that I didn’t want to hear what he had to say today, that was all.

Quietly keeping to myself—looking over paperwork—I moved on to signing autographs for the Dartmouth Children’s Hospital, trying to avoid conversation that would likely result in the any man worth his salt speech again.

Hell, I was still confused from the last one.

Avoiding him the best I could, my silence was over quickly.

“What the fuck!” Jimi yelled across the cabin toward me.

Why he was yelling when we were not more than three feet from each other wasn’t my main concern. The vein pulsating in his neck was far more troubling.

“How did you do twenty-five thousand dollars damage to a fucking golf cart?”

“What?” My eyes didn’t move from the posters.

I already knew the look I was receiving. It was the same look I got when I threw the baseball through his car windshield, while driving, because he wouldn’t let me have a Happy Meal. It was the same look I got when Spencer and I glued Emma to the wall of her bedroom and left her there for an afternoon. And it was the same look I got when I took my sprint car out for a spin on the high school’s running track during the homecoming football game.

“Do golf carts even cost that much?” he wondered, and then shifted his eyes back to me. “You need to grow up!”

I laughed, feeling his penetrating gaze upon me. “Spencer wrecked the other one,” I defended finally looking up.

It was the same look.

“I expect that from him, well fuck, I expect that from you too but regardless, stop it.” His eyes bulged again. “I’m not okay with this.”

“I won’t wreck any more golf carts.”

His eyes narrowed for good reason. “Or haulers ... and motor coaches.”

“Or haulers and motor coaches,” I agreed with a grin attempting to lighten his mood.

“Don’t get cute, I’m not amused.” He let the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile but corrected it quickly. “You need to be medicated.”

“Do not.”

“Yes... yes, you do.” He tossed the bill from Glen Brooke Golf Course at me, walking to the rear of the jet grumbling again about getting a DNA test done on us.

In my head, I silently added up everything I’d been charged with in the last few weeks as far as destruction went... $25,000 for the race, $34,000 for the hauler, $16,000 for the motor coach, and then the $9,000 for the hotel room. My eyes focused on the recent bill from the golf course, $26,000. I was certainly no math whiz, but that was a hefty tag.

Maybe I did need to be medicated?

It was either that or I would be going broke.

When I arrived in Loudon, it was a whirlwind of press, appearances, and interviews. That was just on Wednesday. After a very long fourteen-hour day, I was finally in my hotel room and missing my girl like crazy so I decided to call her.

She answered on the first ring, greeting me cheerfully, “Hey there, handsome!”

“Hey, beautiful,” I rasped, my voice was shot. “How was your day?”

“Ooohhh,” Sway giggled. “Someone had a long day, but I’m digging the voice.”

“I’ve missed that giggle, honey.”

“I’ve missed you. I had to spend the day with the devil’s spawn. Little fuckers shaved Mr. Jangles,” she seethed. “He looks like the bear off that Great Outdoors movie—you know the one with the shaved ass?”

Laughing, though I was the only one laughing, she continued to tell me about her day. When I lay back on the bed, I felt something under me. Reaching behind me, I fished out a package addressed to the Jameson Riley Fan Club.

Emma must have dropped it off so I opened it and out spilled about a hundred envelopes from what looked to be fan mail. Skimming through a few, Sway told me how Lucas also pierced Mr. Jangle’s ears with safety pins while Mr. Jangles purred away.

“I’m not sure who should worry you more, Lucas for doing it, or Mr. Jangles for not scratching the shit out of him,” I teased and gasped loudly when I realized that all these letters were from Chester—the male prostitute from jail.

Afraid of the contents, and feeling slightly nauseated, I shoved them all back in the bag and placed it on the floor a good ten feet away.

I may, or may not have, covered it with a blanket, as well.

“I’m not sure who to be worried about either, but I’m gonna say the Lucifer twins.” Sway agreed. I made my way back over to the bed. “A couple hours ago Logan brought out my vibrator and proceeded to play Star Wars with Lucas while we ate dinner.”

I was silent for a second trying to comprehend what exactly she said when I heard Sway take a deep breath.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just... miss you.” Her tone was desperate. “And they’re making me insane.”

“I miss you too,” I whispered in a low voice that I knew would calm her down. “Now, back to this vibrator....” Then I let the full force of my voice loose on her, knowing the effect it could have.

“You’re not allowed to use that voice if we can’t have sex,” Sway warned.

“You know,” I whispered purposefully. “Just because I said we can’t have sex ... doesn’t mean we can’t have phone sex... and I really wanna talk about this vibrator you have,” I hedged.

Sway moaned loudly. “You’re killing me.” I could hear rustling on the line and imagined she was lying on her bed, already feeling the tightness in the pit of my stomach in anticipation.

“What are you wearing?” I asked in a deep voice that sounded funny to me with how gravelly I’d become. “Come on, honey… don’t get shy on me now.”

“Nothing,” her voice softly flowed through the line.

“Wow, that was fast,” I replied.

“I just got out of the shower. Logan got glue in my hair, so I spent the last hour in there trying to get it out,” she sighed. “It will be a miracle if I don’t kill them.”

“How about you focus on something else,” I suggested removing my clothes and getting in the bed. “Like me. Back to the vibrator. How long have you had it?”

Sway blew off my questions about the vibrator as if she never mentioned she had one in the first place. “That sounds like a swell idea. What are you wearing stud?”

“Nothing, now.”

“Ah, I’m good,” Sway giggled. “Two minutes into this and I already have you naked.”

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I groaned as my hand slipped under the sheets. “Now this vibrator... where’d you get it?”

“Why don’t you tell me what I do to you?” Her voice was dripping with sex.

Throwing my head back against the pillow, I found it hard not to fly across the states and show her exactly what she was doing to me. “Fuck, Sway. I miss you so much. I wish you were here with me right now.”

“Do you have a fantasy?” she asked. I could tell this was turning her on; I knew my girl well.

“Besides fucking you on the hood of my race car?” I answered immediately. I’m sure my arousal was evident in my thick tone. “You know, I fantasized about that one for years.”

“Oh, fuck me!” she panted.

My one thousand square foot hotel room was filled with our breathy moans, panting, and dirty talking. It felt wrong, and it was like we were slipping back into what we had before but, in the reality of it all, that was us. Dirty.

I had no doubt in my mind that once Sway was here in my arms, I would show her how this was different, how we were different, over and over again.

The next morning when I woke up, I was met with Spencer in my bed. Yeah, that happened and sadly, this wasn’t the first time it had happened.

Jumping back, I reached for the blankets since I was, in fact, still naked. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” I barked at him.

“Alley kicked me out of the room,” he mumbled, rolling over to go to sleep.

“So you came here... what would make you to do that?” I pushed him off the bed and reached for my jeans on the floor. “I don’t like you anymore than she does.”

“Dude!” Spencer grumbled when I showed him my bare ass. “I don’t need to see that!”

“Stay out of my room then,” I yanked my jeans on. “Why’d she kick you out?”

I don’t know why I was asking, it wasn’t like I actually gave a shit why she was mad at him. After all, this was a daily occurrence.

“She’s still upset about my new haircut.”

I laughed, rummaging through my bag to find a t-shirt and socks. “That’s what you get for letting Aiden cut your hair, dumbass.”

Though it took some convincing, I got Spencer to leave, and made my way to the track to start the race weekend. It was going to be a long one without Sway here.

With the restraining order on Chelsea and her glued to his hip, I struggled to get Tate alone the last few days between practices and qualifying. I couldn’t go anywhere near him with Chelsea there.

At the drivers’ meeting, she wasn’t around so I tried my luck there.

Never being one to beat around the bush, so to speak, I walked up to him when he was with Bobby and Paul. Seeing me standing there, Bobby and Paul left, leaving Tate and me in the corner of the media center.

“What do you want, Riley?” Tate glowered, his arms crossed over his large chest. The light colored shirt he was wearing made his dark eyes appear darker. “What?”

I stared at him for a moment. Once I was standing there face-to-face, I had no idea what I wanted to say. Eventually I settled on, “I want you to hear my side of what happened.”

“I already know what happened.” He turned to walk away.

I grabbed him by the arm—his face was hard to read. “No, you don’t,” I said on the defense. “You know one side of the story.”

“Enlighten me then,” he challenged, stepping closer.

Tate wasn’t as big as that Vin Diesel motherfucker, but he wasn’t pint-sized, either. I briefly wondered if this was a bad idea, but decided to stand my ground anyway. I would not be accused of something I didn’t do.

“The only reason I went with her was because she told me that you gave her the title transfer for Grays Harbor.” I looked directly at him making eye contact this time. “When I left with her, she had other plans in mind. When I denied her advances, she got upset. End of story.”

“Where’d she get the bruises from?” Tate asked with a sour edge to his voice. I had an inclination right about now that he did not intend to believe me regardless of what I said to him.

“I have no idea. I pushed her off my lap, but I never touched her neck and sure as shit never forced her to suck my dick.”

He hesitated for a brief second before speaking, “Stay away from Chelsea,” he growled and walked away.

Well that went well.

Knowing my inclination was now correct, I was about to go after him to give him a piece of my mind.

Fortunately for me, Kyle appeared and shook his head. “Don’t.” His eyes were caveat. “Just let Phillip handle this. If you get involved any further, it could interfere with the case.”

Leaning against the back wall, Gordon, the Director of Competition, began the drivers’ meeting. Standing there, I realized Kyle was right. I needed to forget about it for now and let Phillip do his job. Not being the type of person to sit back and do nothing made this a feat in itself. I had to be in control and right now—I wasn’t.

Darrin walked in with his crew chief, and both glanced in my direction. Keeping my calm, I looked the other way.

I couldn’t tell you what it was between us, but it started back in USAC when he wrecked me for no reason. From there, I guess you could say the rivalry was born. We never did talk back then. Our first conversation came around the time I was testing in the cup series over the winter and went something like this:

“So you’re the badass USAC driver everyone talks about? You don’t look so badass now,” was his kind way of greeting me.

“I’ve had my moments,” I responded signing a few autographs as I walked toward the paddock that winter afternoon in Daytona.

“Guys like you have it easy. Your father funds everything for you.”

Guys like me? He had no idea how much time I spent racing as a kid. Since I was old enough to walk, it was all I’d ever wanted. Constantly training and focusing on what I thought was important. The long hours, the time spent traveling, how I never really had a childhood, the things I gave up... Sway... he had no fucking clue what it was like for me.

Luck... sure I had that on my side at times, but I worked hard for everything I have.

“Yeah, I have luck, but I’ve worked for everything I have.” I told him matter-of-factly, walking away.

“Yeah... right,” he muttered and walked away himself.

As you can see, we never really got along.

During the meeting, they talked about the usual topics, pit lane safety, caution flags, and then a few changes in race format with a competition yellow this week due to rain yesterday.

And then it was on to aggression, something they weren’t happy with. Gordon and NASCAR made it clear they wouldn’t tolerate any retaliation on the track, and any driver caught up in retaliation of any kind, would be suspended for a minimum of one race from this point forward in the season.

I respected NASCAR’s position as a governing body for the sport. But I had a problem with how they enforced these rules at times. This one, the retaliation, was total bullshit if you asked me.

NASCAR had turned into some kind of marionette with the way they tried to suppress everything. They were sure quick to advertise the fights they didn’t condone though. The one of Darrin and me in the infield after the Winston still plays when they advertise the next race. Funny enough they penalized us both for that, but they were making money from it.

Seemed stupid if you asked me.

Personally, I say if you want to punch a driver in the face because he pissed you off, well then, punch him. They did it in hockey and look at how well that was received. It wasn’t like they didn’t want to see the fights, they wanted to, believe me. Everyone wanted to see that aggression.

Fans wanted see the good ol’ days when the drivers went at it in the infield of Talladega. They wanted drivers who showed emotion; they wanted real people.

I agreed this needed to be done in moderation. Retaliation as an act was a very fine line. The way I saw it, you need to be held accountable for dirty racing. If you race dirty, you had better be ready to defend those actions; that was my theory at least. Most racers I knew raced that way. And, well, Darrin, he knew nothing about this apparently. He had no problem racing dirty, but when it came to answering the bell, he acted as though he had done nothing wrong. That was where my problem was with him.

After the drivers’ meeting, I made my way back to the motor coach to put my racing suit on and get some food. Last night I wasn’t able to get in touch with Sway so I tried once more but it went straight to voicemail. I thought for sure that I’d be able to get in touch with her since it was my birthday and all, but no such luck. Part of me wondered if something was wrong with Charlie but she would have called ... I hoped.

Before long, as with any race day excitement, I found myself standing outside my car waiting for the pre-race ceremony to begin. Leaning to one side, my legs crossed over appearing relaxed. Conversation around me shifted to the way I was leaning against the car. The guys on my team nicknamed my pre-race stance to the “Rowdy Way,” as though this was an intentional stance for me and actually meant something. To me, it didn’t really mean anything. It was just how I relaxed before the race.

I’m not sure when I began leaning against my car that way. A handful of other drivers did it as well, maybe all with a different meaning, or maybe it was comfortable for them, too.

As far as when it started for me, it may have happened back when I raced sprint cars. At times, you found yourself waiting on pill draws, putting heat in the engine or simply waiting for your feature race to begin. So I leaned against my car. In a sense, it was a resting position. But, in time, that’s where the “Rowdy Way” was developed, and though I never consciously did it, I became known for it and news reports tagged a name to it as if it was some kind of intimidation measure.

When drivers walked by I casually stood there, leaned against my car. And, maybe—if I was honest with you—it could have been a way for me to deliver a message to them. A curious indifference that told them they would never get to me.

But I wasn’t that honest. It was just a way of relaxing, right?

Reporter after reporter made their way over to me along with a few hundred fans who’d been granted pit passes. By my casual stance leaned against my car, it silently told them Darrin didn’t bother me. NASCAR didn’t bother me. In reality, I could have been lying, but that was the message I delivered.

Sometime during all this, I looked up in the midst of the people hounding me for autographs and my eyes focused on Ashley.

I wanted to run from her but couldn’t, so instead I gave a fake smile as she asked her questions.

Ashley Conner and I had an encounter back when I was racing in the Busch series. And I say encounter because to me, that was all it was, though Ashley seemed to have other ideas about that.

“Another pole for you Jameson, what do you think your chances are here to pull off another win? You wrecked last weekend, do you think you can pull through this time?” Ashley flashed a trained seductive smile and attempted to be flirty by tossing her black hair around.

Immediately, my eyes dropped, avoiding her. The last thing I needed would be to give her the wrong impression here and let her think I was interested again. I wouldn’t even say I was interested before; she was just a means to scratch an itch. An itch I no longer had.

“We’ve had some ups and downs the last couple weeks with this number nine Ford Simplex car, but I think we pulled some things together.” This was my standard answer most of the day. “I think we’ve got a shot at the win here. Cole is fast, as well, so we’ll see how it goes. The clouds make a difference here—it can change the track drastically throughout the race.”

Ashley thanked me, her cameraman walked away, but she stayed near the car.

“So Jameson... I was wondering if you’d like to grab some dinner tonight after the race.” Her voice grew soft and persuasive.

Still not looking at her, I leaned my head toward her, but continued to sign autographs. “I don’t think so Ashley.”

“Oh, come on. We haven’t been out in months.”

“Try years, not months, and my answer is still no.” I finally looked over; her blue eyes sparkled with desire. “I’m seeing someone.”

Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Jameson Riley doesn’t date, remember?”

I recalled telling her those exact words at one time. “I do now,” I barked back, turning to some fans who had gathered beside my car.

This pervasive curiosity into my personal life and who I was or wasn’t dating annoyed me. All I’ve ever wanted to do was race, but with that came everything else. Sacrifices.

If there was such a thing as hell on earth, I was in it without Sway. I hated being without her and to make matters worse, I hadn’t been able to reach her on the phone prior to the race. So now there I sat, running in twenty-second position with a car that could easily win the race, all because I didn’t hear her voice and she wasn’t here with me.

What the hell had this girl done to me?

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I couldn’t escape the sound of her voice, the feel of her touch, the smell of her skin, and I vividly remembered the way she felt under my hands, against my body, the way she tasted. I was a mess without her.

I’m pathetic, really fucking pathetic.

After the race, I should call her and ask for my balls back.

To make matters worse, I started humming “Purple Rain,” which wasn’t helping, so then I started belting out the lyrics at the top of my lungs. All this did was remind me of a time when Sway was with me.

“How’s the car handling?” Kyle asked. “Did the wedge help?”

Instead of answering him, I belted out the lyrics as loud as I could. Aiden laughed, knowing I’d lost it.

“You’ve lost your mind.” Kyle laughed.

“I know,” was my only answer because I had, in fact, lost my mind.

“Get your shit together Riley, and win this race for me,” a soft voice ordered over the radio.

My face broke into a wide smile at those words. “Sway?”

She came for me. My girl came for me. If I didn’t already love this woman so much, I just fell in love all over again.

“Nope, it’s Mandy Moore, now stop butchering Prince and bring me home some candy,” she giggled.

“That I can do, honey.”

After that, I was on a mission to show my girl I could win this one for her. I became the same hasty version of myself I could be on the track.

“Come on, bud. Stay focused,” Kyle insisted as I was ranting continuously about the slower cars in front of me. “Be patient.”

“Yeah, right,” I mumbled. “Give me lap times.”

“Twenty seven last time, even with the leader.”

My heart was pounding vigorously as I battled with Harris for ninth. My car was awesome, but I couldn’t get out of the traffic and Tate wasn’t giving an inch of room beside me. Not that I expected him to.

“The ten is outside—keep low,” Aiden advised me as we came out of three. “At your door, still there, still there,”

“What the fuck is his problem?” I grumbled when Tate once again bumped me coming across the backstretch. “I give him room and he pushes right back.” I glanced over as he flipped me off.

Real mature, Tate.

“He flipped me off.”

“What did you expect him to do?” Kyle asked. “He thinks you’re messing around with his girl. Just drive through the windshield, bud. Don’t pay any mind to him.”

“Cole... you got me? Am I lifting?” I felt like I was lifting too soon allowing him to catch me in the corners.

“Yeah, 10-4 Riley, wait longer coming out of four. He’s holding back, but when you lift he’s right there.”

“I can’t wait any longer.... I’ll be hung out to dry,” I huffed.

“GET DOWN, get down, fourteen spinning in turn two, stay low,” Aiden cut us off. “Caution’s out!”

I saw Darrin in the wall as I drove past, smiling to myself.

Darrin’s car was junk, which made me smile wider. He was walking toward the aide car when I passed by and, like the child I could be at times, what did I do?

Flipped him off.

Now who’s immature?

“What do you think, bud?” Kyle asked. “Any changes?”

“I’m tight coming out of two and three. Maybe free it up, but other than that, I’m good. If I could get past Tate, I could get up there with the leaders.”

“All right, let’s do four tires, air pressure adjustment, down a round, and fuel,” Kyle ordered. “Pit road’s open... watch your speed, keep coming... keep coming... here you go. Three... two... one... wheels straight, foot on the brake.”

It seemed silly for him to say that, I knew to do all those things, but in the rush of everything on pit road, those little reminders were appreciated.

The crew went to work as I watched the rest of the field come by in the pits. I had an excellent pit stall right before the entrance to the garage, leaving the stall directly in front of us open—it made it easier on the exit.

“Spencer, watch the right rear. Gentry, tear the tape off the front...” Mason shouted orders at the crew as I took a drink of my water. The inside of these cars easily reached over a hundred during a race, and could leave you incredibly dehydrated toward the end.

I was there already, believe me.

The front left tire changer reached over the windshield yanking the tear-off and then scraping along the nose of the car to brush away any debris that gathered. If kept there, it raised the engine temperature because it blocked the air vents on the bumper restricting the airflow.

Keeping my right foot securely on the clutch, my left foot slipped from the break when the jack let go and moved to the throttle revving the RPMs in anticipation.

“One lane, one lane... hard, dig dig, dig!” Kyle yelled as I jostled out of the pits, other drivers doing the same all trying to avoid a collision that could ruin our day. “Nice job! That’s how you do it!”

“Fuck yeah, guys.” We gained four spots on the pit stop. “That’s how you do a pit stop—you guys are awesome!” I told them feeling hopeful.

No doubt about it, I was amped. Not only did this put me ahead of Tate, but I had only six cars in front of me, and I knew none of them had anything on my car today.

“Coming to the green this time by,” Aiden announced.

“How many laps left?”

“You’ll have forty to go when you take the green.”

Forty to go and six cars to pass. I could do that.

During pace laps, my mind went back to Sway. How awesome would it be to have Sway here and win on my birthday?

When I took the green, I was on a mission. I said little, only asking for lap times occasionally. This was my way of seeing how close I was running to the lap times on the leader. With twenty to go, I was running in second and battling with Paul for the lead. Getting a nose under him, he put up a good fight for a while.

“Paul’s spotter came over,” Aiden said. “He said go high, and Paul will let you go.”

“Yeah, right?”

“No, they think they’ve got a problem, engine maybe.”

“He’s smoking now,” I replied and went high.

Sure enough, Paul’s engine blew coming out of four, but thankfully didn’t bring out the caution.

“How many laps now?”

“Fourteen to go,” Kyle told me. “Hit your marks and stay focused. You’re running lap times a second faster than the rest of the field.”

I went back to singing “Purple Rain.”

“Two to go this time by. It’s all clear in front of you. You’ve got a 2.1 second lead on the forty-eight,” Kyle said when I passed the start/finish line.

I was quiet again aside from the rumble of the engines. It was the only way I could focus on hitting my marks I set and keeping the car straight. The last few laps were also the crucial ones because drivers tended to get carelessly aggressive, me included.

When the white flag was displayed, Sway came on the radio again singing in her best Prince voice.

“You are so adorable,” I crooned back at her when she finished and as I came out of turn four to the checkered flag, I yelled, “This one’s for you, honey!”

The emotion of the last few weeks got to me as other drivers who passed waved and congratulated me.

So much had happened with Sway, Charlie... everything. I knew that Sway’s favorite part was the burnout, so I did an extra-long one until the smoke was so thick I couldn’t see, and I was sure the engine let go.

Once I made it to victory lane, Sway was waiting for me along with my mom, Emma, Alley, and Lane. When I pulled the car in and killed the engine, Kyle stuck his head inside and ruffled my hair. “Nice fucking job, bud!”

“Thanks for giving me a good car, and great pit stops. It’s a team effort, always,” I reminded him.

Most thought it was all on the drivers but, really, every person within a race team contributed to a win. From the engine specialist, to the tire specialist, from the crew chief, to the pit crew, it was a team effort, and if all those aspects lined up, your team was unstoppable. We were unstoppable. They could fine us, challenge us, or whatever else, but I knew then we were unstoppable as a team.

Taking my time removing my gear, I tried to gain some composure again. When I pulled myself from the car, my team roared to life, beer sprayed, cameras were flashing, but I only wanted to find my girl.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw her making her way over to me with a huge grin that mirrored my own.

Once Sway reached me, I wrapped her into my arms for a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming,” I whispered in her ear pulling back to kiss her.

I didn’t care that the entire world was watching this on television or that there was a crowd of people gathered around, I only cared that my girl came for me.

She was choking back tears when I pulled away so I gently brushed them away with my trembling hand and drew in a shaky breath, holding back my own emotions. It’d been one hell of a week.

Sway smiled again. “Happy Birthday, baby!”

“Thanks,” I grinned. “You’ve made it the best yet.”

Reporters were hovering, wanting their interviews so I shifted Sway to my side, keeping a firm grasp around her waist when Neil with ESPN asked his questions.

“First off, Happy Birthday!” he told me patting my back. I leaned into him because everyone was still screaming around us making it difficult to hear him. “So tell us, how’d you pull off your fourth cup career win?”

“We had an awesome car all day. I couldn’t have asked for a better car here. The crew did great there on the last stop and got me four spots, which helped. I really need to thank them on this one. Not only do they give me excellent pit stops, but these guys never stop.” Shifting my weight toward Sway, I continued on, “When I get to go home they are still at the shop getting ready for the next race so I owe this to them, truly I do. I need to thank my sponsor, Simplex, for standing behind me. They allow me to come out here each week and compete for the win, so thank you.” I took my hat off and bowed my head to Melissa standing near us to which she gave me a wave. Turning to Sway, I winked. “I’d also like to send a quick hello to Charlie Reins. He helped me get started in racing, and I owe a lot of my experience to him for letting me race even when the track was closed for the season,” I said with sincerity at the camera. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Sway couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and I felt her shaking beside me.

Cradling her closer, I leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“We hear you’re the new owner of Grays Harbor Raceway as well,” Neil evoked. “How did that come about? Was this something you’ve been planning for a while?”

“No, it wasn’t planned, but the opportunity kind of fell into my hands, and I couldn’t pass it up.” I didn’t dare say anything about Charlie being sick on national television.

Neil patted my back. “Well, congratulations on the win and the new ownership, birthday boy.”

Soon the rest of the family made their way over to congratulate me as well. The next two hours were spent between pictures, kissing Sway a tad inappropriately at times, the contenders’ conference, more kissing, and now finally we were back home in Dirty Mo celebrating the win and my twenty-third birthday.

Oh, and more kissing.

I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my family and team, but I wanted to be alone with Sway, so around one in the morning we finally made it upstairs to my room.

The moment we were alone, I captured her in my arms and carried her over to my bed. I’d been waiting to get her alone all day, so I almost forgot and let my hormones lead me.

“There are some things you need to understand,” I murmured against her neck, tracing my nose along her jaw as we lay on my bed. Slowly, I removed the last bit of her remaining clothing.

She giggled when I tossed it aside.

“You listening?” I ran my tongue along the column of her neck. “Don’t get distracted on me now.”

“I can’t... focus when you whisper like that,” Sway confessed arching her back against me. “I need you.”

“I’m not going to fuck you, Sway,” I whispered in a low gravelly voice I knew would send her over the edge, taking my lips away for just a second.

“But, you said—”

I placed my fingers against her soft lips. “I’m going to make love to you, and I’m not going to stop until you’ve passed out.”

She giggled.

Raising her chin, I forced her to look at me. “No laughing during this... you’ll... bruise my ego.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” she giggled yet again.

“No, we wouldn’t.” I smiled leaning back on my heels to remove my shirt, tossing it on the floor.

I watched as her eyes took in my bare chest. Her hands started at my shoulders and made their way over my chest muscles and down toward my hips where she unbuttoned my jeans.

Once she removed my jeans, she straddled my hips and began to move against me, with no clothing between us it was easy for her to slide against me.

Sway moaned at the contact and arched her back. It took every ounce of self-control that I had to one, not flip her over and fuck her senseless and two, not blow my load before we even got to the good stuff.

I had to get her to slow down, so I took a firm grasp on her hips, halting her movements. “Sway,” I panted. “Honey, you’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

Gently I rolled her over covering her body with my own. Her hands clung to my shoulders as I began entering her.

Her back arched against me and her head fell back into the pillows, a gasp escaped her carefully parted lips, her palms pressing against my back urging me forward.

Hitching her leg higher on my hip, I paused, trying to regain some sort of composure and not come instantly when she whimpered, clutching my shoulders. “No.”

I had to stop for a minute and regain control; it was too much.

“I’m not stopping, honey.” A shuddered breath escaped me as I fought the urge to move. “I just need to ... calm down for a minute.”

She said nothing, but smiled at my confession, her fingers threading in my hair, a reminder she wanted everything I was giving her.

Some would think knowing a guy like me that I would be completely in control at a time like this, and that I wouldn’t be scared to death about what was happening between Sway and me. But if you thought that, you didn’t know me very well. I was hesitant, fumbling and terrified of making love to someone like her. There had never been a point in my life where I had ever made love to someone and I wasn’t really sure how.

So much had changed between us. This wasn’t fucking anymore and this wasn’t friends with benefits. I needed to show myself to her in the most intimate ways, and that really did scare the shit out of me.

Can I even do this? Can I show her that side?

She watched me moving above her, her eyes never leaving mine. I’d like to say that I was composed and relaxed but I wasn’t. Nope. Far from that actually. My body was trembling all over, my breathing was shaky, my heart pounding.

You’d think I’d never had sex before, but really, I’d never had this type of sex before. This was completely new to me.

Melting into her touch, that was when I finally told her. “Honey, tell me,” I begged her, breathing in sharply. “Please... tell me... you love me. Tell me this is right. Tell me—”

“I love you,” she whispered against my lips as hers brushed over mine, so soft, so right. “It’s right. We’re perfect. This is perfect.”

She reassured me as our bodies moved together. Our eyes stayed connected the entire time. There was a hunger in her eyes, but there was also trepidation.

The fact that she seemed just as nervous assured me this was new to her, too. It was relaxing to know that she’d never been this way with anyone.

Closing my eyes at our movements, I relished in the sensation of her warm body beneath me, our bodies moving slowly in the most intimate way.

Bending forward, I kissed her forehead and pulled her closer. I was going to hold on to her as long as I could.

Before long, I couldn’t hold back. I was losing the battle quickly and Sway was determined to push me.

Frustrated, she squirmed beneath me trying to speed my movements. “Go ... faster ...” she moaned, arching her back. “Faster.”

My stomach tightened in preparation. “I can’t...” I grunted reaching for a tighter hold on her. “If I go faster... I’ll come.”

“I will, too... just go faster... please,” she begged with a whimper.

How can I deny her?

I couldn’t stop now, my forehead fell to hers and it was over. I completely lost any will I had and let go when she begged me. I couldn’t even focus; my body was shaking embarrassingly, along with my heavy panting. I was a mess.

The rush consumed everything, the pleasure, the reminder that she was finally mine, left me breathless. Not more than a mere second later, Sway was moaning my name. Thankfully, my bedroom is on the third floor and no one could hear us up here, with the sounds coming from this woman you’d think I was killing her.

When the sun began to rise, basking the room in a soft orange glow, I pulled Sway closer.

She sighed contentedly and snuggled in. Sway had this way of worming herself into my arms in the middle of the night without me noticing, but when I awoke, I was always surprised at how close she was... not that I was complaining.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” I suddenly blurted out running my fingers through her dark hair.

“What?” Sway twisted in my arms to look up at me. “What are you talking about?”

Tracing my fingertips lightly up her shoulder, and then over her collarbone I told her my fears. “This... I don’t want to screw up what we have. I fucked it up once and I can’t do that again. Now that I know what it’s like with you... it would kill me if I lost it.”

“Okay, so don’t,” she ventured, kissing my lips. “And don’t be so dramatic. It wouldn’t kill you. I might, but it wouldn’t.”

I laughed lightly but knew she was missing the point to this.

“You do realize that I don’t know what I’m doing,” I hinted waiting for her to understand. “I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it. Maybe you could just not expect anything real fancy or fairytale like.”

She giggled shaking her head, her arms wrapped around me.

“What’s going on with you?” she soothed, running her hands up and down my spine; her gentle touch was relaxing but not enough.

“I guess I’m just scared.” I mumbled into her shoulder. “I feel like I have a lot to live up to.”

It took her a moment, but she giggled again.

I needed to make her see.

“Okay...” I sat her up to face me, my hands moved to her face. “I’ve never been in love before. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend and have a career at the same time.” I paused looking at her nervous expression. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ve never been in love? What about...” she began.

I shook my head quickly, interrupting her. “I didn’t know what love was back then... I was seventeen. But looking back at it now, no, it wasn’t love at all, not even close. Chelsea, all those other women, they didn’t mean anything to me.”

She was looking at me so earnestly that I fell in love with her that much more.

“So...” I continued with a smirk. “I have no clue what I’m doing, but I’m willing to try for you. I may fuck up along the way, probably a lot, but I want to do that with you... as your boyfriend.”

“Does this mean we’re going steady?” Sway asked between giggles.

She is so fucking cute.

I laughed freely. “I think it does, Joanie.”

“Kiss me, Chachi.”