Page 27 of Driving Force

Taking off. Love you

My Girl:

Be safe. Love you (kiss emoji)

Putting my phone into airplane mode, I turn on my music and try to relax. But with Matt beside me, I don’t know if that’s possible.

Practice on Saturday is what I like to call crap. It seems like every change we make is in the opposite direction. When one part went great, another was like, nope, I’m gonna go to crap. By the time the third practice session comes around, I’m stressed out and don’t want to be in the damn car anymore. John can sense that I’m getting ready to snap, so he suggests we reset the car back to square one with the track now hot from the two other sessions prior, and maybe the grip has changed the asphalt some, and it will do what we want. Or so he hopes, because if not, I just may lose my shit on this car.

Okay, let’s try one more time. A frustrated breath leaves my body as I get my Hans device back on, sitting in my seat, ready to put my helmet back on.

John’s voice comes over my radio as I back out to head toward the track once again. “Okay, Ryan, take it easy on the exit of turn two. That’s where the issues have been. I need to see if it grips better with going back to our first setup.”

“You got it, boss.” I’m glad one of us has faith in this one. But I really doubt this car. My mood is getting worse with each lap. “After you exit turn four, I want you to punch it as hard as you can. I wanna test this setup hard on the next lap,” he says.

“On it.” As I exit the turn, I do just that. The tires grip and my adrenaline picks up. Damn, we may have found the sweet spot. Running my line around the upper side of turn one and diving into turn two, I tell John how the car is feeling and breathe a sigh of relief that we may have got it.

I hear him laughing over the mic. “You act surprised, Ryan,” he says.

“Well, it’s taken us all day to dial it in, so color me a little surprised, is all.”

“Bring it in, and we can get the final bugs out while we still have time to work on it.”

Pulling into my spot in the garage, I feel a little more at ease with the whole day, but damn, that was a hell of a start to my weekend. With the new rules, we don’t always get to have practice at some tracks. It is rare we have also qualifying, so I guess it’s luck that we did because if the car we started with had been the one we went out on the track Sunday with, I would have lost my shit for most of the race with the way it handled at the start of today.

Hanging my helmet inside my car, I’m just pulling myself out when I hear a yell. Turning toward the god-awful sound, I find Serena rounding the corner just as my feet hit the ground. She thrusts herself at me, and before I can react, she’s kissing me. Never in my life have I ever wanted a woman off me so fast in my entire life. But she is latched onto me like the freaking spider monkey from hell. Finally, she lets up on her grip just enough for me to pull away from her as I see photographers walk away. SHIT.

“Serena, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand. I know my tone is a little gruffer than she’s used to because she finally takes a step back from me.

“Ry, I just wanted to give you a proper hello is all. I’ve missed you so much, and I couldn’t control myself.” She steps closer to me, once again running her hand up my arm, purring a little into my ear as she does it. And that’s when I hear the clicks again. The media are going to have a field day with this. I can see the headline. “Golden boy of NASCAR back with his runway girlfriend. Guess last week was just a fling.”

“Serena, you have about two seconds to remove your hand from my arm before I do it for you.” Not so polite.

“Ryan, I love when you talk so aggressively. It gets me so wet,” she says into my ear before taking my advice and stepping back, but still in my personal space. To the naked eye, you would think we are having an intimate conversation, but to me, it’s anything but that.

“What the hell are you doing here, Serena? And I want the truth, not this bullshit you are spitting about missing me and wanting to see me. Because we both know that’s not true because you only have eyes for one person, and that’s yourself.”

“I saw your win last week, and I saw you with the frumpy-looking woman, and I just had to come see if someone like that really had your attention or if that was just some charity case you picked to be by your side for the day,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Wow, Serena, you really haven’t changed, have you? When you called, I thought you might have grown up, but boy, have you proved me wrong? I’ll have you know that woman is the best thing that’s happened to me. And honestly, she has more kindness in her little finger than I bet you have in your whole body.”

“You really are with the girl? She’s not even your type, Ry. I am,” she whines.

Yep, I have officially tired of this conversation and this woman. What in the hell was I thinking, letting her into my life, let alone my bed, for all those months? The adventurous sex really must have clouded my judgment because, seeing her now, I can’t even imagine giving her a second look.

“Ry,” she says, getting closer to my ear once again. “Let me take some of that stress away from you. Just one more time. Let me touch that perfect dick. You know it will be worth it.”

Click - Click - Click.

“Serena, I want you out of my garage now. I don’t need your shit, and I’m seeing someone. I don’t want it. Just as I get those words out of my mouth.” I see Matt come around the corner, eyes wide at the scene he’s just walked in on.

Clearing his throat, he gets Serena’s attention. “Hey Serena, umm, what’s going on here?” he asks.

“Hey Matt, just catching up a little with Ry here.” She runs her hand down my chest until she gets almost to my dick, but luckily, I’m waiting for it, jerking her wrist into my grasp.

“She was just leaving, weren’t you?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll go but make no mistake, Ry, this is far from over.” She turns on her heel and walks away.

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