I rolled over and slapped his chest as I laughed. “Mostly college. Some pro.”
I couldn’t help but notice he still had a hold of my hand. “Is that how you met asshole Trey?”
I jerked my head back. “You didn’t like Trey?”
“No. Mostly because he had his hands on you.”
My stomach fluttered. “Oh.” Rolling back over, I sighed. “We met at a bar. He was the first guy I’d dated in a long time. That day in Vegas, the same day we met, it hit me. He was cheating on me. I went to the airport and flew home after we left the race.”
“Really? How did you know he was cheating?”
I sat up and quickly wiped the tear away before Malcolm could see it. He followed my lead and sat up. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I turned to Malcolm. “When you’ve been lied to your whole life by people, especially men, you learn how to read when people are telling the truth and when they’re not. Like w
hen you go to a foster home and after a few weeks they tell you things aren’t working out and you have to go back to the orphanage, but not because they don’t love you . . . but because the sisters are so lonely without you.”
I could see the look of pity in Malcolm’s eyes and I hated it. I quickly turned away and stood up. “Anyway, like I said, it’s all very depressing, but I am who I am because of it.”
“You never got adopted?” Malcolm asked as he stood.
Shaking my head, I said, “Nope,” as I popped the p loudly. “After I turned fourteen, I started working around the orphanage. It worked out perfectly. I got to stay in the wing where the sisters all slept and I earned money for college.”
“So, the reason you didn’t become a nun is because you were too horny? You slut.”
My mouth dropped open as my eyes about popped out of my head. I knew what he was doing and I appreciated it more than he knew.
“What?” I gasped. His face was deadpan as he stared at me. “I wasn’t . . . I’m not a slut!”
His arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled me to him. “Thank the fuck you’re not a nun, ‘cause if you were I would surely be going to Hell with all the things I’ve thought about doing to you in the last hour.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say as I felt Malcolm’s dick pressed against my stomach. My body trembled slightly and I was positive he noticed.
“We better get going. You have to work tomorrow and I have qualifying.”
He leaned over and folded up a quilt as I did the same. My mind was spinning around in my head as I tried to figure out why in the hell I just told my life story to him.
Needing to forget the last few minutes, I asked, “What’s qualifying?”
“We get time to race around the track some, and whoever has the best time gets the pole position.”
I pinched my eyebrows together. I knew nothing about racecar driving. “Pole position?”
“Basically you start up front.”
I nodded my head. “Oh, I see. So um, does this little nifty pass I have get me into the race Sunday?” I asked as I tucked a quilt under my arm and picked up a basket.
We made our way toward the elevator as Malcolm said with a hint of naughty in his voice, “That pass gets you everywhere, including on my bus.”
I wiggled my eyebrows and stepped into the elevator. “Yes!” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could. “I’ll finally get my date with Deuce. I think we’ll make popcorn and watch HGTV while you drive around the track.”
For as long as I live, I will never forget the look on Malcolm Wallace’s face as I declared I would watch HGTV on his bus . . . with his dog.
“It’s called racing, Paislie. It’s full of strategy and talent.”
I nodded as I said, “Uh-huh. Oh, I’m sure it is.” I shrugged and said, “I think Deuce and I would prefer something more entertaining and exciting like Flip or Flop.”
As I headed down the bleachers with a huge grin on my face, little did I know Malcolm Wallace and this track would change my life forever.
OPENING THE DOOR TO THE bus, I couldn’t help but feel my heart do another fucking skip. The last few days I’d called myself pansy-ass I don’t know how many times and it was because of the girl standing in front of me. The sound of her voice, her name across my phone; each and every time my heart jumped or my stomach dropped. What in the fuck was happening to me? And I didn’t have the urge to fuck her. Well, that’s not true . . . I did want to fuck her, but I wanted to get to know her first. Kiss her while I held her firmly in my arms. Slowly make love to her while I whispered her name against her soft skin.