Page 39 of Truck You

“You call that easy?” She lets out an incredulous laugh. “You almost flipped us at least a dozen times.”

I climb off the ATV, take my helmet off, and set it on the seat before I turn my gaze to her. She looks pissed, and it makes me laugh. “We were in no danger of flipping over. Trust me.”

She shakes her head and lets out a deep breath. “You’re the one with the trust issues. Not me.”

“I didn’t want you here,” I say, not wanting to address her trust comment.

“Clearly.” She gives me ayou’re a dumbasslook. “But I’m here. So talk to me.”

“No.”

She rolls her eyes and it makes me want to kiss her. I don’t know why because it’s not a good look on her. She looks like a brat.

I push past her to the small rock wall that hides a small cave I found years ago when I explored these woods as a kid. I climb up the edge and around the small ledge that hangs over the creek below. When I reach the opening of the cave, I sit and let my feet dangle over the edge.

A few moments later, Sophia sits down next to me and takes in a deep breath.

I dare a glance at her and fight a smile. Her eyes are closed with her head tilted toward the sky like she’s trying to soak up all its warmth. The sun beams down on her, making her red hair glow like flames. She’s so beautiful. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and stare into her big blue eyes.

Her eyes fly open and dart to mine like she knows I’m watching her. Our eyes lock and there’s a heated exchange between us that causes my stomach to bottom out. Or maybe that’s just hunger. I didn’t eat much of my lunch before Heidi showed up.

She looks out over the water, a small smile on her face.

“This place is beautiful. Do you come here often?” The softness of her voice is in complete contrast to the way she was just yelling at me moments ago.

“Yeah.” I lean back on my hands and do my best to look at anything but her.

I hate how much I want to hold her, kiss her, touch her, have all of her. I’d prefer it if I really disliked her. It’s the real reason I lash out at her. Everything I do is to make her hate me the way I want to hate her. It’s easier that way. One day she’ll leave. A mutual dislike protects my heart.

“How old were you the first time you raced a car?” she asks.

“Huh?” Her question surprises me.

She turns her soft, sweet smile to me, and I swear my heart falls out of my chest. I don’t deserve that smile. “You heard me.”

“Question surprised me, is all.” I close my eyes, mostly so I won’t stare at her before I answer. “Seven. Dad took me to a race, and I instantly fell in love with the sounds, smells, and all the fast cars going in circles around the track. He knew one of the drivers and took me to meet him after the race. The guy let me sit on his lap. He pressed the pedals while I steered. I was hooked.”

“That sounds like a great memory.”

“It was.” I open my eyes to find her staring at me. The longing I see staring back makes my mouth run dry. Something tells me that if I pulled her to me and kissed her, she wouldn’t stop me. Instead, I clear my throat and turn her question around. “How about you? When was your first time behind the wheel?”

Her smile falters, and a sadness washes over her features. “Believe it or not, I was younger than you.”

She tears her eyes off mine and looks down at the creek below. There’s a vulnerability in the way her shoulders sag that I haven’t seen on her before. It makes her look younger, almost like a little girl who’s been told she can’t have something she desperately wants.

“My dad is a mechanic,” she whispers. “He would always take me to the garage he worked at when I was little. I was such a daddy’s girl and loved watching him work. While other little girls were playing with dolls, I was playing with Matchbox cars. I was four the first time he let me sit on his lap while test driving one of the cars he was working on. I felt like such a big girl. I was instantly hooked. At the time, my parents just thought I was a little girl who idolized her dad. I was, but it was more than that, you know?”

She looks at me, and her eyes are wet with emotion. I nod because I do understand.

She lets out a long sigh and looks away. “As I got older and my love for fast cars and racing intensified, my mom discouraged me from going to the garage with Dad. I became a car-obsessed girl who dreamed of racing cars for a living, and she hated it. They don’t support my choices. They would prefer I do something more appropriate for a girl.”

“That sounds tough,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. My mom may have abandoned me, but my family supports what I do.

“It is.” She gives me a sideways glance. “But I know they love me, and I guess that’s more than a lot of people can say. I hid my dreams from my parents for so long, it’s become second nature. I never tell people I just meet what I do. It’s a habit.”

Our eyes lock, and I finally understand. Her parents are the reason she didn’t tell me. It’s her secret pain. It’s the why behind everything that defines who she is, and the strength that propels her forward.

“Come on.” I push to my feet. “We better head back before Liam yells at me for today’s workload not getting done.”

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