Page 42 of Race to Me

“Treating you that way was inexcusable, and I didn’t even fucking remember half of it. I woke up to a clean room, minus the puke on the bathroom floor, and everyone else filled in the blanks with stories that made my stomach turn.”

I can see the sadness in his eyes. “You still could have told me what she did to you.” I say quietly.

“What I did was inexcusable, Sky. Apologies are bullshit, actions are necessary, and I’m trying to show you in my way that I’m sorry.”

I nod my head, agreeing. Actions always speak louder than words. “So, are you going to keep hiding me from your life?”

There’s a long pause as he processes my question, and his palms rub the rough grit of the rooftop panels. “The fight happened,” He pauses for a moment and looks at me. “I had been thinking about you non-stop all day, and I wanted to see you. Then I saw my reflection ... blood pouring from my lip. Black eyes, scuffed knuckles. I decided then and there that my life was never meant for you.”

I gesture to where we sit. “Then why are you here?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” he admits, grinning. “I just want you in my life, whichever way you’ll allow it.”

“You can’t just decide when and where you want to talk to me. You know that, right? I mean, you’re driving me crazy Foster.”

We sit in stark silence for a moment and finally, he speaks. “I mean, just look at this beautiful home—and you have two parents who love you and a rich, Ivy League boyfriend who your parents want you to marry. What do I have to offer you?”

I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Foster, you are worth so much more than you let yourself believe.” When he grows quiet, I can tell I’ve struck a nerve. With a sigh, I lay it all on the line. “Do you like me?”

With the most heart-melting, dimpled grin, he takes my hand in his and nods once. My stomach does flips as the butterflies flutter to life at an exuberant pace inside me.

“Anything else you want to know, Sky?”

I nod, knowing this was the last question I wanted to ask. Ever since Envy said it was all my fault, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. “What was the fight about?”

Foster deadpans. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Full honesty or we can’t be ... friends.” I state, hesitating. He deflates, but I don’t know what he wants this to be.

He doesn’t want to tell me, but I keep pushing until finally, he does. “Well, you made me lose ten grand that night.”

My eyes widen. “What? How?”

“It was a huge race, and winner got ten grand.” Foster shrugs.

I chuckle. “That’s assuming you would have won.” How could he blame me?

“Freckles, I always win.” He grins, adding, “but it’s not your fault; other people are involved. If I don’t race, I owe people.”

“I didn’t stop you, though. You stopped yourself.”

Foster gently pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You were in that outfit,” He licks his lips as he recalls the memory. “I was more concerned with bending you over that bike than running away from you on it.”

I audibly gasp, the bluntness making my cheeks redden.

“When you do that, it makes your freckles more prominent.” His thumb lightly grazes my cheekbone, sending a shiver down my spine.

“When I do what?” I ask, confused.

“Blush whenever I say anything remotely sexual.”

“That wasn’t remotely sexual, Foster. That was as obvious as a neon sign on your forehead.” I reply, laughing when he shrugs.

“Anything else you want to ask me?” Just like that, he can change the subject, and I’m still blushing.

“No, that’s all.” I reply, admiring the way his dark eyes are staring hungrily at my lips.

His fingers curl under my chin. “Good.”

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