Page 12 of Slow Burn (Driven 5)
I start to respond to his dim-witted comment when I hear a cell phone ring. I drop my head to the side and stare at him. Yep. Way too fucking much estrogen. “Please, tell me that is not your ringtone?” I beg of my brother as a Katy Perry song plays on.
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Dude, my cell is right here,” he says, holding it up for proof. “That’s yours.”
What the …? I rise from the chair and head toward the sliding-glass doors, where I set my phone on the counter inside. Katy keeps singing about California girls and melting Popsicles, and I swear to God, this has to be one of Colton’s fucking pranks. A final parting gift before he left for his honeymoon. The last time he did this my ringtone was “I Touch Myself,” and it went off in the middle of a pit crew meeting. He’s such an asshole sometimes.
I reach for my black iPhone, the screen announcing Rylee’s name. He had better not have fucked with my contacts too.
“Hello?” I answer the phone cautiously.
“Becks? Why do you have Haddie’s phone?” Rylee’s voice comes through loud and clear, and all of a sudden, it hits me. Haddie picked up the wrong phone this morning when I dropped her off. But what female has a plain black cell phone case? Haddie’s anything but plain. “Becks, you there?”
This is fucking stellar. I might as well post on social media that I had sex with Haddie because me answering her cell phone did just as well. For fuck’s sake. Deflection is my only choice. “I’m here…. Shouldn’t you be doing something else on the first day of your honeymoon instead of calling me?”
“We’re delayed at the airport,” she says at the same time I hear a flight number being called in the background.
I laugh. “Like that’s gonna stop Colton from getting busy—”
“Are you with Haddie?” she says, cutting me off, and I can hear the curiosity in her voice. I don’t want to deal with this, especially because Walker is standing in the doorway, hanging onto my every word.
“No. I don’t know where she—”
“Then why do you have her cell phone?” She lets the question linger, and I struggle with an explanation that she’ll believe. “Did you two—”
“Give me the phone.” It’s Colton’s voice, and now I know I’m screwed. I hear shuffling and then, “Becks?”
“Hello, Mr. Rings-with-strings, you old married fucker.”
He laughs. “Dude, at least I’m getting some on a more than regular basis. You’re just jealous. If you decided to lower your standards and get some too, you’d be a much happier…. Oh shit …” And I swear I can hear the light switch on in his head. “You slept with Haddie, didn’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell him, grimacing momentarily. “Nothing happened.”
“Aha, you so did!” He shouts out with a mocking laugh. “Nothing happened, my ass…. Besides the only time you take a chick’s cell phone is if you’re escaping in the dark before she wakes up, or if you’re so flustered from figuring out whether to kiss her good night … er … good morning”—he chuckles again—“that you grab it accidentally.”
“Whatever. They were both on your kitchen counter. I must have grabbed the wrong one.” What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.
“Yeah, right, and I’m the goddamn Easter bunny.”
“Well, you do like tail.” I offer.
He chuckles again “Yeah, just one. I’m reformed now,” he says, before falling silent for a moment.
“In that respect, yes … but every other part of your life? You’re still a crazy fucker.” I walk over to the refrigerator, pull out an IPA, and twist the lid off. “Seriously, nothing happened.” When he just grunts in disbelief, I continue talking before he starts thinking too much about it and asks more questions I’ll have to dodge. “So, why are you calling?”
“Ah, the subtle change of topic … like that doesn’t scream I fucked her.” He laughs.
“I’m hanging up now,” I threaten, knowing this can go on and on with him.
“Sweet Jesus, dude, relax. Don’t be such a little bitch. I was actually dialing you while Ry was calling Haddie to ask a favor.”
“Anything.” No details needed. It’s Colton, after all. My brother from another mother.
“I just got a call from Firestone. The shipment of tires is two days early—”
“That’s a first…. What the hell happened? Is Armageddon coming or what?” I laugh. Our semitruck full of sponsorship tires is usually two weeks late and always forces us to trim some time off of our testing.
And time on the track is like gold.
“No shit. I said something similar to Ry.”
