Page 211 of Trading Paint

Remainingsomewhatcollected, I leaned back against the bar again, trying to appear as though I could give a rat’s ass to what he thought of me.

“Darrin,” I spoke slowly shaking my head, I kept my tone even and controlled giving it a more baleful hint. “Just because my father owns the team I race for, doesn’t mean I can’t drive.” My chin came up arrogantly. “Who won tonight?”

“By three tenths of an inch, hardly a win,” he snorted.

I chuckled with intent.

“Any way you want to look at it Darrin, I won.” Motioning to the bartender, I ordered another beer. “How’s second place feel?”

He stepped closer, fisting his hands in my shirt.

“Listen you little shit,” I saw Spencer appear beside me. “Stay out of my way on the track or you’ll regret it.” He spat.

There are a few things Ido notlike—besides substances on my skin. That includes someone shoving me and someone threatening me.

Within a second, I had a broken beer bottle pressed to his throat, his nose bleeding from where I just punched him. “Don’t.Ever.Threaten. Me.Again!”

I hated this asshole and for him to come in here and threaten me, on a night I was celebrating with the people who made this all possible for me, made me fucking livid.

Spencer and Kyle had me slammed against the wall. They knew I was moments away from destroying this entire bar to get my point across with this motherfucker.

“Calm down!” Spencer growled in my ear, his fists that were clenching my shirt tightened. “I mean it Jameson. Don’t do this here.”

“Get him out of here.” I barked at the security guards surrounding me. I’m sure my enraged manic glare was enough for them cause they moved pretty fucking quickly after that.

31. Equalize – Jameson

Equalize – Cars that run at superspeedways are required to run tires with an inner liner. This is a tire within a tire. When the inner liner loses air pressure and that pressure becomes the same as the outer tire, it’s to be equalized and a vibration is created.

It took me a good hour to calm down once Darrin left.

Between the penalties, the race, Sway, Darrin, and my feelings and emotions being all over the place, I drank. Making my way to the bar once again, Marcus, Simplex’s president, caught me.

Marcus was already drunk standing with his arm around my shoulders, dangerously waving a shot of tequila around as he told me, in no certain terms, how he thought I could improve my driving. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he had me confused with someone who gave a shit about what he thought. Eventually he offered me the half-spilled shot in his hand. I took it without hesitation. After a few shots, I was feeling pretty good and working on my courage to approach Sway.

The bar was full and crawling with pit lizards, all of who I was having a hard time getting rid of. They were always relentless after a race.

“You sure attract the ladies.” Marcus deduced after Ashley, the Fox Sports reporter, shoved her tits in my face once again that night.

Motioning toward Ashley, I said. “I’m sure she’ll show you agoodtime.”

And I mean “good time” by Marcus standards. Marcus thought he was some North Carolina player—he wasn’t by the way. I don’t think anyone ever told him that just because the boys inMen in Blacklooked okay, didn’t mean he did.

“Oh, yeah?” he elbowed me. “Know from experience, huh?”

I suppressed a sigh knowing I needed to act civilized.

“No, half the fucking industry does though.”

Yeah, I slept with Ashley once but in my defense, I was so drunk that night, I ended up sleeping on the sidewalk in front of a Safeway store—I couldn’t tell you a single goddamn thing that occurred that night, only that I dimly remember being tangled in the sheets with her at one point. I was also not going to admit this to anyone—it was none of their business who I slept with.

Another round of shots came by—Marcus had just coaxed me into doing another, when I felt Sway behind me.

“Jameson,” she sighed. “Don’t youleavdme wit yousistaagain!”

Marcus removed his arm from my shoulder, inexplicably choosingnowto become uncomfortable with our contact.

When I looked at Sway, three point five sheets to the wind, she was glassy eyed, bright-cheeked and cute as a goddamned cherry pie.

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