Page 2 of Driving Force

The next thing I know, James is pushing a handsome man with blonde hair and light green eyes in front of me. If I were a betting woman, I’d say this is one of his athlete friends based on his build alone.

“Tinley, this is Chase, and no, he does not play any sports before you even ask. Well, not at school, anyway. I know you’re tired of athletes. Even though I should be hurt by that, I’m not. He’s in my sports medicine class.”

“Hi, Tinley.” Chase reaches out to shake my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. James has told me a lot about you. Thanks for letting me tag along to the race today.”

Lordy, this man is nice to look at. His sea-green eyes could make a girl lose all train of thought and whereabouts when his attention is on them. Maybe it won’t be such a bad day after all. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase. I would love to say that James and Lily have also told me all about you,” I laugh a little, “but they didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, if I had known that James had such a beautiful friend, I would have made sure he had given me your contact sooner.” I can’t help but blush at the statement. Chase may just be what I was looking for, or maybe he could help me figure out this racing shit my friends thought I needed to understand.

As we follow the others out and load up into Miles’s suburban, I tell myself to just enjoy today. Even if it kills me. And between NASCAR and a blind date, it just might.

Being at the racetrack is one of the best parts of my week; the smell of gas and tires, the crews preparing to go to work on pitstops, and the rush of adrenaline that hits when I get in the car, but this morning I’m met with Brad in my race hauler at the ass crack of dawn. “Why do I have to play nice with a college student studying Public Relations? Aren’t they supposed to have an internship program for that?” I question my PR guy Brad while buttoning my jeans and throwing on an old racing shirt and dark gray vans.

Brad met me at my racing hauler to give me the rundown of what needed to be done for the day from a drivers’ meet and greet, which I enjoy since it’s a time to talk with the fans. The drivers’ pre-race meeting afterwards is the one time of the day away from the public eye. After that, the always-important interview with NASCAR Race Day, and then hopefully ending with the victory lane hat dance, yet with how the car ran yesterday, I’m going to have to bust my ass to make that one happen.

Brad blows out a frustrated breath. “Yes, they have internship programs, but this is a family friend, and I told her it would be a great chance to see if this is the sport she wants to cover once she graduates school in May.”

Okay. I take a deep breath. I’ll be good as gold today and try not to make life difficult. Normally, I’m a nice guy at the track once you get past the sometimes-grumpy part, which I blame on no coffee or lack of sleep most days. But when the moment comes, and my helmet is on, I turn into the NASCAR superstar Ryan McKenzie and will do anything to win. That would explain why I’ve made a few enemies on the circuit and have Brad attached to my hip anytime I’m at the track, but it comes with the territory when you win races.

“So, when will she be here?” Ready to get this show underway as we walk toward my meet and greet. I have always loved coming to the track early. The smell of the cars when they first crank and the burnt rubber of tires lingering in the air from the night before has always made me smile. “Could be anytime, really.”

He no more gets the sentence out, when a group of college-age adults walks up to us. NASCAR was always my end goal, so I skipped college and went straight to the Xfinity series from high school. I was lucky to have signed with Mac Motorsports early in my career, getting on NASCAR’s radar when I started racing midgets. They were good to me, and I was a loyal driver. So, when I could, I moved up the ranks and entered the big show a few years later. I have never taken that for granted because I know it does not happen to everyone so quickly.

Walking toward the first meet and greet, Brad is rattling off the stats for this track and who's lining up where when a tall blonde comes up to me, drawing my attention. But as soon as she opens her mouth, I sense she only sees me as a driver to put on her Instagram page and claim she’s slept with.

“Ryan, I'm such a big fan,” she purrs.

“Thanks so much for the support, but I’m late for an event.” I pull her hand away from my bicep. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s nice to have female attention, but my coffee hasn’t even kicked this early in the morning, so it’s a bit over the top for me.

“Ah, come on, driver.” She winks. “I can make your morning even better,” she whispers in my ear as I pull away to continue my walk.

Glancing at the group headed toward us, I can’t help but think back about my friends in high school and how close we had been once, but we soon drifted apart when I found racing. That was my true passion, and going headfirst into it, I lost them along the way, but I never looked back.

Brad greets everyone, getting names and ensuring they can access the garage area to watch the race from the stands or behind the pit wall. Fans stopped me, so I missed everyone’s names. When you have a ridiculously cute nine-year-old with your t-shirt on and her dad asking you to sign something, you do not turn them down. Making my way over to Brad, I notice a beautiful blonde standing beside him, and I can’t help but take a moment and admire her.

“Ryan McKenzie, this is Grace. Grace, this is Ryan.”

“Umm, bud, my eyes are up here,” Grace says with a smug smile.

I can’t help but laugh a little, getting caught looking at all of Grace’s curves. Then I catch a glimpse of another woman out of the corner of my eye, with the most beautiful, dark, midnight black curls I have ever seen and crystal blue eyes hiding behind the cutest pair of black frame glasses. I shake my head and smile to myself. Normally, glasses don’t catch my attention, but something about these makes me look a little longer than necessary.

Clearing my throat, I tell Grace, “Sorry about that,” just as the dark-haired beauty turns away from me.

“So Brad tells me you have a full morning with promotion, including a meet and greet before the race. Are you sure it’s okay if I follow you guys around?” Grace asks.

“Yeah, it’s just a normal race day for me. Brad said you wanted to work in NASCAR, so why not see what it’s all about?”

As I go over all that’s expected of me on race day, those crystal blue eyes grab my attention again, and it makes my heart rate pick up just a little as she walks up to Grace. Before I can even think, I reach out, wanting to touch her hand.

“Um, hi. I’m Ryan, and you are?” I know I must have startled her, but I can’t let her walk away without getting her name at least. She stands there for a second, looking like she’s trying to solve a math problem, which makes me laugh a little to myself. Then I wondered how it was possible men didn’t approach her and say hello on a regular basis. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and the way she carries herself, she doesn’t even seem to realize that.

As a driver, girls always come and go, yet no one holds my attention for longer than a few weeks, if that. But something about this girl and how she looks at me makes my world spin in another direction. She doesn’t seem to care who I am, which has pulled me into her gravity. You always hear people talk about that moment when you meet the person you will spend the rest of your life with. Where in the hell did that thought come from? That never happens in real life. That’s just something people watch in those sappy romance movies. Shaking my head, I focus on the beautiful woman before me.

“Hi, I’m Tinley. It’s nice to meet you.” She places her hand in mine.

I feel a tingle go up my spine from the contact. What the hell was that? Just as I’m about to ask her a question, Brad interrupts, heading toward the meet and greet. Still unable to take my eyes off her, I know I must look like a straight-up crazy person just standing here watching her. Tinley tells Grace she’ll see her this afternoon, and a tall blonde guy comes over to speak with her. I think I might have caught his name as maybe Chase or Chance or something, and a strange jealous feeling comes over me. I just met this woman and spent all of two seconds with her it's not like I have some weird claim on her. He finally asks if she would like to walk around the pit area with him. Being polite, she nods and says she would love to.

Seeing him place his hand on her lower back, ready to walk away with Malibu Ken, my mouth word vomits all over the place. “Tinley, would you like to come with us to keep Grace company? Sometimes race day can be boring while I meet fans and go to the drivers' meeting.”

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