Page 55 of Race or Ruin

“Of course. She’s not responding.” He let out a heavy breath. “That’s why I’m talking to you.”

“Did you say something to piss her off?” Jackson laughed. Yep. The man was definitely fucking with him.

“No. I don’t think so,” Race responded defensively. He never talked about this shit so why was he talking to Jackson about it now?

“When did she start avoiding you?”

Race’s brows drew down. “I never said she was avoiding me.”

“You getting any responses to your messages?” Jackson asked logically.

“No.” Race hated admitting that she might be avoiding him.

“See. She’s avoiding you.” Again with the logic.

Race growled, thinking back. “I guess she started avoiding me after we fucked yesterday morning.” Wow. Didn’t that sound good?

He thought Jackson’s bark of laughter bruised his ego until he heard his next comment.

“Are your fucking skills subpar, Race?”

“No. You dick.”

“If it’s not your fucking skills being called into question, you’ve no doubt said something to piss her off. Do you have any idea what that may be?”

“No.”

“Think back, Pres.” Not only was Jackson being logical, but now he was being reasonable, too. Bastard.

Okay. He could do this. He remembered they fucked. She was afraid he was going to kick her out of his bed again. He said no and apologized for being an utter ass for what happened before. He explained the chemistry between them freaked him out. That’s why he never pursued the attraction between them. He didn’t think she was old lady material. Like a lightning bolt to the brain, he knew where he’d fucked up. “Son of a bitch.”

“Ahh. You figured it out. What did you say?”

“We were talking about stuff that led up to me saying I never thought she was old lady material and she wasn’t a no-strings-attached kind of woman. That’s when Dagger called and we never finished our conversation. Shit.” Race closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Looking back, he could see how those words had been taken by Bellamy. Without them finishing their conversation, she had no idea how he actually felt about her. In her mind, she probably thought she was no different than Charlotte.

“Damn.” Jackson paused. “Do you want to make her your old lady?” All hint of teasing gone.

Race thought about it a moment. “Yeah. I think I might. If I can ever get her to talk to me, we could figure this out.”

“I have faith in you, Race. You’ll figure it out and bring Bellamy around to your way of thinking.” Jackson hung up, leaving Race to figure out a way to get Bellamy alone and to listen to him.

* * *

It wasWednesday night and it had been three days since she’d seen Race, four days since she last spoke to him face to face. He did, however, send her numerous text messages and left several voicemails that she had yet to listen to. She was a coward. She admitted it freely. In her defense, she couldn’t bear to listen to Race giving her the brush off in person or by phone. She hadn’t even been home yet since she’d been whisked away to the clubhouse, opting to hide out at her grandmother’s.

Thinking about it, she should probably have one of the brothers assigned to keep an eye on them for the night take her to her own home after their girls’ night and she’d take a cab to pick up her car in the morning. She reasoned that it would be rude to show up at her grandmother’s house late at night, drunk off her butt. She knew Grandma Martha wouldn’t mind, but Bellamy knew her time for avoiding the man was quickly coming to an end.

Unless she planned on moving in with her grandmother, it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down. She could only hope that her complete shut out would make him give up and go away. But did she really want that?

God help her. No. She didn’t. Despite how deeply she felt for him, the thought of only being an occasional hookup while he continued to parade woman after woman in front of her made her sick to her stomach. Maybe she should give serious thought into living with her grandmother after all. It wasn’t like she had any kind of social life anyway. Although, moving in with her grandmother might cramp Grandma Martha’s social life.

Wow. It was a sad, sad day when her sixty-year-old grandmother had a more exciting and adventurous life than Bellamy. Uhh. Whatever.

In her effort to avoid Race, she’d spent the last few days working mornings at her store and taking the afternoons off to help her grandmother get her house set up. After a late dinner and several hours of unpacking each night, Bellamy would be too tired to go home and would drop into one of her grandmother’s guest rooms where she’d fall into a dreamless sleep. Thank God.

Spending those couple of days with her brother had made it easier to not dwell on Race. She’d enjoyed his teasing and reminiscing about when they were little kids and the trouble she used to get into. Not one to let her brother off easy, she also took the time to remind him of his many blunders. All in all, it had been like old times.

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