As I’m thinking today will be another no show, their truck pulls up outside. Leigh is in the passenger seat and Aaron turns to her but she shakes her head and I deflate. She’s not coming in. Then I get annoyed with myself. Why should I care? I hate the way my body reacts every time I see her. The knot in my stomach tightens whenever I look at her, and it’s worse when she’s near me. I start to buzz, my skin tingles, and I fight to keep from reaching out to touch her. I need to keep reminding myself that she was never mine and never will be.
Aaron enters the diner and I watch out the corner of my eye as he places his order at the counter to take away and hands over crumpled notes. Running a hand through his hair, he turns a fraction and catches me alternating between looking at him and out the window. After a nod in my direction, he makes his way over. Movement outside the window catches my eye. Leigh has climbed out the truck to talk to a guy on the sidewalk. Mason. I think he’s younger than I am, but I’ve seen him at the quarter mile before. He leans against the truck, both of them facing me. Leigh tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and my fingers twitch, wanting to feel it between my fingers. Mason shifts uneasily; those green eyes must be boring into him, making him squirm. She never has had much patience. Shit. It hits me. He’s asking her out. Going by his body language and the way his eyes slide over her body, a small smile on his face as he tries to play it cool.
“That’s been happening more often,” Aaron mutters from the side of me.
“Huh?” I turn to see him watching me before his eyes flick up to look out the window.
“Ever since she raced, guys have taken an interest.”
“Seriously. They’ve only now realized?” My words have more bite than I’d intended because Aaron gives me a funny look.
“It’s good for business, but she’s freaking out that Hank might find out she raced.” Aaron gives a low laugh.
“That was months ago.”
“I know, but they’re still talking about it. It doesn’t help that they keep asking her to race again.”
“So I’ve heard,” I growl. I’ve heard them a few times on the quarter mile, offering her ridiculous bets to race. She turns them down every time, and I am glad. I don’t want to experience the fear I felt the last time I watched her race. Is that what it was like for her when she watches me? “Would Hank mind?” I ask.
“Dunno. His temper’s worse than hers is.” He laughs again. Must be nice to have people who give a shit. But I have Meghan; she’s always been there for me, so I can’t complain.
A feeling of guilt passes over me. “Sorry. I didn’t think she would race you know.” I look back up at him and he’s watching the scene out the window before he turns back to me.
“If it had been anyone but you, she wouldn’t have.” He arches an eyebrow at me, conveying something.
My breath catches and makes a funny, strangled noise in the back of my throat. Aaron looks down at me.
“You know she’s leaving.” His eyes never leave mine as he drops that bombshell, and I’m glad I chose that moment to stare out at the window so he doesn’t see the fear flicker in my eyes. The sight of her smiling at Mason does nothing for my temper, and rage quickly replaces the unease.
“What makes you think I care?” I grind out, harsher than he deserves, but Aaron only scoffs.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll pretend that I haven’t noticed the way you look at her. Or how you won’t let anyone but her touch your GTO.” I cut him a sharp look, warning him not to push his luck. He rears back a fraction but carries on. “Or the way she holds her breath whenever you’re around. How none of us are allowed to mention your name. And don’t forget she’s at nearly every race you’re in.” Cheeks are colored after his rant.
“She can’t stand me,” I inform him in a flat voice. My insides deflate.
“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” he adds cryptically.
“What are you trying to say, Aaron?” I drag my eyes away from Leigh when I see Mason shrug his shoulders and walk away from her. I’m not quick enough, and she catches me watching her. Her brow dips into a sharp v, and she scowls at me.
“Talk to her and she might stay.” I hear the hopefulness in his voice, but he’s kidding himself if he thinks that will make a difference.
“What makes you think she’ll listen to me?”
“She just might.”
“Why are you trying to stop her?”
“We don’t want her to go. She belongs here.” He sounds sad as he says it. Damn right, she does, but it’s her decision.