Lap traffic was coming up as Russ guided me right along.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Russ came over the headphones. “Dropping back now at three car lengths back.”
“Come on, baby . . . don’t let me down,” I said as I drove the fuck out of my car.
“Three to go.”
My heart was racing as fast as my car as I thought about Paislie. She’d had a VIP pass and I prayed like hell I’d see her in victory lane. I also wanted to find out who the asshole was she was with. For some odd reason, guilt washed over me as I thought about the girl I let give me head before the race.
“Fucking hell,” I whispered, trying to refocus. I had never let this kind of shit in when I raced. Never.
“White flag. One to go, Malcolm. Take it easy around the lap traffic. You’ve got this . . . plenty of room between you and the eleven car.”
“Come on,” I whispered as I held onto the steering wheel and took my last turn.
The moment I saw the checkered flag flying, I let out a holler. “Woo! We did it, boys!”
“Number two!” Dalton yelled out.
Pulling up to the finish line, I took the checkered flag and drove around the track. This feeling was unlike anything. Best damn feeling in the world.
“Coming in,” I said as I brought the car up. Seeing my pit crew caused me to smile even bigger. These guys were like family. Slipping out of everything, I crawled out of the car and stood on the window.
“Yeah!” I shouted out as I got drenched in champagne. After being congratulated by the crew and Dalton, the media jumped in and started with all the interviews. I fucking loved it.
My heart was still pumping hard as we did all the press photos. I felt a slap on my back as I turned to see Mr. Elliot standing there. “Malcolm, I’d like to introduce you to Trey Rogers, he’s a running back for the Dallas Cowboys and a huge fan of NASCAR. He’d love to meet you.”
Ugh. I’d heard about this guy. He had a reputation for wanting drivers to take him out for runs. The guy was known as being a class-ass prick.
With a smile on my face, I turned and followed my boss. I froze in place when we walked up to a small group of VIP’s. Those beautiful emerald eyes were all I could see.
“Paislie,” I said a little too enthusiastically.
Her eyes lit up as she flashed me a huge grin. “Congratulations, Malcolm.”
“Do you two know each other?” the oversized guy standing there asked. Not wanting to pull my eyes off Paislie, I smiled and said, “We’re acquaintances.”
Mr. Elliot cleared his throat and said, “Malcolm, this is Trey Rogers.”
Moving my focus onto Trey, I reached my hand out and shook it.
“Running back for the Cowboys?”
His chest practically puffed out as he said, “That’s right.”
“Man, I like the Cowboys, but I’m more of Texans fan, though,” I said with a laugh and slap on his arm.
The guy looked tense and a little pissed off. I couldn’t decide if it was because my immediate attention was on Paislie, or the fact that I basically just told him his football team sucked.
“Great race, dude. My girl here had her money on you.”
Snapping my eyes back over to Paislie, I couldn’t help but notice the look she gave Trey. Either they weren’t serious enough for him to be claiming her, or she was pissed about something else. I couldn’t help the damn smile that spread over my face.
I bet this girl was pure spit and fire.
“You rooted for me, huh?”