Jesus, I need to focus on something other than Haelee all over me. Naked. Her breath hitching. No, this is most definitely not good.
My gaze locks on the road, and I make a promise not to look at her again because if I do, I’m pulling this goddamned car over and making sure she knows just how equal I think she is. I grew up with a father who taught me that women are meant to be respected, cared for as if they were precious. Over the years, I veered away from those beliefs when I saw what my mother was like. I never understood how he loved her even while she treated him like trash.
When I first met Haelee, when she beat me on that lap around the track, I was shocked. Seeing Haelee in that driver’s seat had me at a loss, not only because she kicked my ass, but because my previous competitors were guys. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t belong. She does. More than some of the other racers I’ve come across.
“There are so many people who grow up with certain expectations and beliefs which are ingrained in them. My father was one of those people. He loved everyone. He treated everyone as if they were equal, which is one of the values I’d become jaded about over the years. Even though he grew up in a time when women didn’t have jobs, and they most definitely didn’t have any hobbies outside of cleaning the house or cooking dinner. Even looking after the children was done by the nanny.”
“But you have to realize, since then, times have changed.”
“I don’t disagree,” I tell her, admitting defeat because I realize since that moment when I saw red, when I acted like a complete moron, I never apologized to her. “And I was wrong. I’d just never lost before, especially to a female. Never watched a woman speed by me, and I couldn’t catch up to her. Yes, I was a condescending asshole, and I own it.”
A small smile splits those perfectly pouty lips, and I notice the white of her teeth peeking through. She looks like danger and speed, all wrapped up in a pretty package. I’ve spent my years focused on cars, on racing, but the personal part of my life has been stuck in a constant state of traction. I haven’t moved forward in any way because the fear of losing someone I care about is so strong it scares the life out of me.
“That’s all I wanted,” she tells me.
“What?” This time, I’m confused at her words.
As I quickly glance at her a few times, she finally tells me, “You admitting you were wrong.” As much as I want to kiss her, I also want to make her happy. It’s a strange feeling when someone else’s happiness comes before yours.
“I’m a man who will openly admit his mistakes,” I tell her as we weave through bends that offer majestic views of the ocean. I’ve come here so many times over the years because it’s outside the city, far from the hustle and bustle, and it allowed me time to think about things.
I may have made mistakes in the past, but I always tried to be a good person. Yes, I’ve broken hearts, more than I care to count, but all in all, I’ve never hurt someone so badly they haven’t moved on. Curtis can attest to that because most of my exes have ended up in his bed.
“I’m not experienced,” Haelee blurts out suddenly, causing me to still all movement. “I’ve always been so focused on school, on not turning into my birth mother, that I never had a boyfriend. And at times, I feel like I don’t belong in this adult world.” The inflection in her voice makes my chest tighten. I want to reach for her, but I wait until she looks at me, or until she continues her admission. “I’ve always been different. Growing up without my birth parents, knowing what my mother was, was hard. But also, I’m not exactly like the gorgeous girls that are usually around races. But my father was adamant. He wanted me to experience life like every other teenager. And I did. For a time.”
“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” I tell her. “You’re innocent, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but you’re also gorgeous.” The raw honesty in my voice has her flicking her face over me. My attention and focus is on the road, but it’s as if I can feel her, as if she’s touching me. Gently, tentatively, and I can’t deny there’s a pull toward her. I feel it right now, and I felt it last night when I took her out of that bar.
“I’m just me,” is her response. It aggravates me because I know how attractive she is, and I’m almost certain that if I left her in that bar, she would’ve been hounded by men all night.