Page 12 of Driving Force

Tin:

Hey, are you at the house?

Grace:

Yep, just walked in the door. What’s up?

Tin:

I was going to have coffee with Chase when he asked me about my date with Ryan. I need your PR skills.

Grace:

I’m on it

Tin:

Great, see you in a little.

That’s one of the great things about Grace; cool under pressure and would go to hell and back if needed for her friends. But if you ever cross her, you better look out because that Grace is fierce.

When I get to the house, I feel the start of a headache. As I walked from campus, I could feel everyone watching me, and I was already over being the center of attention. Making my way over to Grace sitting at the table, laptop open, I know the answers to the questions I want to ask. I’ve had them since the moment I kissed Ryan. I really like him, but I don’t fit into his world.

“Grace, tell me, I don’t need any bullshit right now,” I said.

“All right, well, you may not like this, but as your best friend, it’s my duty to tell you.” That makes me recoil just a tad.“Tin, there are pictures of you and Ryan on your date this past weekend and your kiss at the track. Someone caught that one, also. Some of the comments are not nice at all.” As Grace continues talking, I grab the laptop, bracing myself for the onslaught of hate. I saw the photos when Chase pulled them up but didn’t scroll to the comments. I was too caught off guard to look any further. The vultures commented on everything from my weight to my clothes and my favorite one, “Why did he choose a girl like her?”

“Have you talked to Ryan today? It’s still early, so he may not have gotten to the garage yet.” Grace says.

Looking down at my phone, I think about how we had a great time yesterday & last night. He told me he enjoyed it, but here we are, almost lunchtime, and not a single text. I know he’s back in Charlotte. I can only bet Brad showed him the same pictures Chase and now Grace have shown me by now. Then why hasn’t he texted me to see if I’m okay? That little doubt comes in. Even though he said I was special, am I just a weekend girl? I need to get some answers. The Internet trolls don’t bother me, hell I’ve spent my whole life with this body, and I know I can’t change that, but what hits harder is that Ryan didn’t even text. He lives with the media every day, yet it’s a completely foreign thing for me, so it makes me wonder, does he not think I’m worth it?

Grace gives me a few options. Since I don’t care to have any social media accounts, those won’t help. “Well, first, you need to call him. Hell, I might even say go to Charlotte and demand some answers. I can call Brad and see if he’s dealing with this, which, if he knows me well enough, he’s expecting my call anytime,” Grace says.

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

I’m a woman on a mission; I need answers, and I’d rather get them directly from him. It’s not like I’m ready to burn the town down mad—I’m more confused, but the least he could do is talk to me about it. If he’s going to hide and vanish like a ghost, I’m going to hunt him down like a freaking ghostbuster and get to the bottom of it myself.

As I pull into Mac Motorsports for the second time today, I honestly still don’t know what to say or if I can even put a sentence together that might not make me seem like a dick. Which, now, I one hundred percent feel like. I still haven’t checked in with Tinley, and I know the longer I put it off, the worse it’s going to be.

Walking up to Brad’s office, I notice the door is closed, which is a little odd because I just called Brad to let him know I was on the way. He said he was free the rest of the day and that I could come on down.

I knock on the door and hear Brad say, “It’s open.”

What I’m not expecting is to be met by a beautiful pair of ice-blue eyes. It isn’t only Tinley but a very angry Grace. Remember how she could scare the devil straight? Well, that’s the face I’m getting.

“Brad, what's going on?” I tear my eyes away from the very frosty glares I’m getting from Grace.

“Ryan, let me tell you what’s going on,” Grace says.

Her anger is justified, and I expected it. Her best friend is all over the internet just because I wanted to spend time with her. Then I couldn’t even be the stand-up guy and call her. Yep, I’m officially the asshole in this story now.

“Tinley went to class today, only to find out that her entire life has now been posted online. She didn't hear it from you like she should have if you were a decent human being. Luckily, Chase was the one to see her and make sure she was okay,” Grace finally calms down and explains.

Great, Malibu Ken beat me to the punch to make sure Tinley was okay because I was in my own head and didn’t even send a fucking text. Now here she is, sitting in Brad’s office, trying to figure things out.

In that moment, my head and heart come together, and the groveling kicks in. “Tinley, I am beyond sorry for the pictures that got out of our kiss. And the position that I’ve put you in. It never even crossed my mind that we would have people follow us because I honestly enjoyed the time, I spent with you. I should have been more cautious and looked out for you. I am sorry the track pictures are on the internet for all the world to see, but I wouldn’t change that first kiss for anything. And when you think of it, it’s kind of cute. I mean, how many people can say they have evidence of their first kiss?” I try to make a joke, but looking at her face, I know it didn’t hit where I wanted it to.“I should’ve checked in, gave you a heads-up. I just hoped Brad and I could run interference first or have more progress before I did.”

“Ryan, I’m going to need you to stop talking,” Tinley chimed in. “I had an amazing time on our date. The pictures honestly don’t bother me. What I have a problem with in this whole thing is that you didn’t call or even text me. Just something simple ‘Hey Tin, I had a nice weekend, and by the way, there are pictures on the internet of our weekend.’ As soon as Chase showed them to me just before eleven o’clock, I knew in my heart that Brad had already shown you the same thing earlier in the morning since you told me that you usually came into the shop early on Monday mornings. So you would have met with him about something like it wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by him if he’s doing his job. Yet here we are, almost eight hours later, and not a single word. Why couldn’t you even send me a text!”

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