Page 42 of Wrecked
Cam nods and then asks who he's racing. They talk back and forth while my gaze wanders to the surrounding area, taking in more of the scene. Two women I notice standing nearby wearing what looks to be only bras, along with short skirts, are not making any attempt to hide the fact they're clearly talking about me or maybe the fact that I'm here with Cam.
The way they cast lascivious looks his way has that unpleasant feeling that's curdling in the pit of my stomach, growing. Maybe it's jealousy.
But do I really have a right to be jealous?
Sure we've kissed once, but he made it clear that it was a mistake that wouldn't be repeated. Then again, he also asked me to come here tonight after telling me he didn't want me to. And there is this low-key possessiveness I feel toward him after having been witness to his minor meltdown the other night. Plus, helping him recover when he was hurt makes me feel like I'm closer to him than they are.
A moment later, I feel Cam's arm around my shoulder. “Hey, I have to talk to Reese in private real quick, and then I have to get to the starting point. Will you be okay on your own?”
“Oh, yeah. I'll be fine.”
I knew that I'd be on my own while he raced, and despite the uneasiness seeping into me, I don't want to give him any reason to worry and be distracted while driving. I smile up at his handsome but wary face, trying to reassure him, but he still hesitates, searching my face for a different answer.
Seemingly unable to find one, his chin dips once with a nod, then he scans the area and moves us to another spot.
“This is where we'll be starting and finishing. Stay here, and I'll see you after the race.” He pauses once again, his lips pinched like he doesn't want to leave me here, but then after one last lingering glance, he turns around and disappears into the crowd.
Several minutes later, the people around me start pushing in a little closer, getting louder as they begin cheering at a car pulling up. Following close behind it is Cam's car. I watch his eyes fly over the crowd, searching it until they land directly on me.
Wanting to further squash his concerns, I lift my hands and join in with everyone else, clapping and even letting out a “Woo!”
The side of Cam's mouth tilts up before he focuses forward again, blowing out a breath. The mass of people surrounding me move in even closer, preparing for the race to start. Despite my little show of ease to Cam, the longer I stand here watching and waiting, the more my nerves begin to take over.
One guy standing near me offers the bottle in his hand, and even though it may take the edge off, I politely decline. He looks like he's completely out of his head, and I'm not entirely sure what's in his drink.
“So, who are you? His sister or something?” a voice purrs on the other side of me.
Turning my head, I see the two women I had spotted earlier, wearing only bras as tops. The one on the left closest to me, has perfectly straight, platinum blonde hair with amazingly bright hazel eyes, while the other has brown waves that surround her face and pretty green eyes. Both are gorgeous, but their makeup is so heavy that I'm not sure you'd be able to recognize them without it. Their breasts are also barely contained, and I feel like a nipple will pop out at any moment.
“Um. No.”
The blonde one who spoke eyes her friend before looking back at me. “His girlfriend?” The look on her face as she says the wordgirlfriendis as if she tasted something bad on her tongue.
I shake my head. “We're just friends.”
“Well,thatmakes more sense,” she replies haughtily, her eyes trailing down my body once before she offers a fake smile.
“Hey, Brandy, look,” the brunette siren standing beside her says, ignoring me. “It appears Leah is single again.”
We follow her gaze over toward where the cars are in position and see a woman standing in front of them, holding something lacy and red in her hand. I'm not sure how exactly she can tell that she's single again, but then the woman blows a kiss to each driver, and it doesn't matter how, those ugly feelings return, twisting at my insides.
The crowd goes wild when she lowers the hand holding the red lace, and the cars take off with a screeching of tires. The sound triggers something in me, sending a shiver up my spine. And when they speed toward the first corner, barely slowing down, I feel my fists clench, turning clammy, while my shoulders tense up with worry. I know Cam said he was good, but he hasn't raced for at least a few weeks now, and he could be rusty.
I inhale deeply before releasing it slowly.
He'sokay.
I'mokay.
I've got this.
I turn toward the two women standing next to me in an effort to distract myself.
“Do either of you ever race as well?”
Shrill laughter pours out of both their mouths at my question, like the very notion is ridiculous.
“No way,” Brandy, the blonde one, says.
