CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CLARKE
Chapter Twenty-Two
Clarke
Clarke watched her blonde curls tumble and caress her cheeks as she removed her helmet.
They were at an indoor karting facility and had just come off the track for a break.
Gazing at her, he wondered whether it was possible to swallow a moonbeam because her skin had a silver glow.
It felt tangible, like the glow was pulsating in waves, reaching out like fingers, touching his skin, and even slipping beneath it.
And once it did, those waves transformed into something like sugar—he could swear he tasted something sweet when looking at her.
“Sorry you got stuck at my father’s for that long.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“My father seems to like you.”
He likes my title and my trophies. And his wife likes the fact that I’ve been knighted and met the royal family.
But he kept those thoughts to himself.
She looked around. “I don’t ever remember this place being open this late.”
“It’s not. I called ahead and they were nice enough to open up for us.”
“That’s why we’re the only two people here.”
He nodded.
“I guess being Sir Clarke has its privileges.”
He bit his lip to temper his grin and shrugged.
“You ask and they just grant your request.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that.”
“Not exactly. I had to offer them some Paddock Club passes for a couple of races.”
“How did you know about this place?” she asked.
“Your aunt told me.”
“She just told you? Brought it up out of the blue?”
“I asked if she knew of a place nearby, or at least not too far away.”
Tilting her head, she peered at him.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Not nothing. Something. I can tell.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. Really.”
She sighed. “I was just wondering if this is Sir Stick Up His Assish.”
He laughed. “Sir Stick Up His Assish? Is that some sort of malady? Is it contagious?”
“If it were, I’d have caught the bug by now. I’m just trying to determine whether or not this is in keeping with that part of your character.”
“Part? So, you admit there’s more to me than an uptight knight with a rod up his backside.”
She laughed. “I didn’t say that.”
He grinned. “You did, but I won’t press you on it. Are you thirsty?”
She nodded.
The place had concession stands in addition to the track. He got two bottles of water from the one lone employee, and they sat down.
“Why did you quit driving?” he asked.
He watched her.
She doesn’t want to tell me.
“I just asked because I know you miss it.”
“How do you know that?”
“By watching you and seeing your face riding around this track.”
She scoffed. “We’re just driving karts.”
“Even so.” He paused. “You don’t want to tell me?”
She huffed. “Okay, Sir Stick, I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”
“Which is?”
“Why did you come today?”
“I already told you. You asked me.”
“And if I asked you to forfeit the next race, would you?”
“Of course not.”
“Exactly. So I’ll ask you again, why did you come? If you want an answer to your question, you’ll have to answer mine first.”
Would he tell her it wasn’t so much her asking, but the way she’d sounded when she did? That infinitesimal quiver in her voice which reminded him of Naomi—even though he’d only realized that now?
No.
Tell her part of the truth, if not the whole truth. She deserves at least that much.
“You did something nice for me, so I figured I should do something nice for you. You asked me to come, so I came.”
“What did I do that was nice?”
He hesitated. “You, uh, you told me something important about my driving.”
She frowned.
“I mean,” he went on, “I knew what you were talking about when you said my driving changed a few years back. I just couldn’t target what I was doing and when I was doing it. Do you remember telling me?”
She nodded. “I remember. But didn’t someone at Elegante tell you? They must have seen it.”
“They’ve told me mistakes I’ve made. But they never focused in on one particular thing. Never picked up on a pattern. So all their advice and feedback have been scattered and vague. I couldn’t grasp any of it in the way I needed to in order to deal with it, change things.”
Should I tell her?
Before he made a conscious decision to do so, he heard his own voice speaking.
“Something happened a few years back.” He paused.
“No, that’s not exactly right, it goes further back than that, when I was in primary school.
There was a girl named Naomi who had a crush on me.
A sweet girl. But we were just friends. I wouldn’t go there.
I couldn’t. I was too wrapped up in the racing to be serious with a girl then, and I don’t think Naomi could be involved with someone and not be serious.
She was sensitive and shy, and I felt protective of her. I looked out for her.
“But when I turned fourteen, things changed. My father took me out of secondary school and got me a tutor. It was easier to juggle my studies and racing that way. So, I wasn’t around much.
” He paused, taking a sip of water. “About a year later, Naomi got involved with a guy.
I think she fell in love with him and he broke her heart.
He treated her badly. Broke up with her in an ugly and public way, broadcasting it to everyone she knew.
She was crushed. She went into a deep depression and had to leave school.
“When I look back, I think about how hard it must have been for her. I wasn’t there when she needed me to be. Not like I used to be. And when I finally realized how badly depressed she was, it was too late. I was too late.”
Clarke swallowed, cleared his throat, and took a sip of water.
“Fast forward to a few years back. I was skiing in Aspen and I ran into Naomi’s younger brother, Niles.
We’d just gotten off the ski lift and there he was—the asshole who broke Naomi’s heart.
He started talking trash about some girl.
I didn’t know the girl. All I could think of was Naomi.
That asshole knew what he was doing when he started something up with her.
Because he knew me. We’d grown up together, gone to the same schools, our parents had friends in common. He knew how I felt about that girl.
“I should have throttled him. I wanted to. But of course, I didn’t.
I never do. Instead, I let him goad me into doing something that was even more stupid: going off the trail and racing him to the lodge.
It was dangerous. But I’d skied terrain that was way more risky.
Niles hadn’t. I told him not to follow me.
But I should have known he would. He used to follow me around like Naomi when we were younger.
A part of me had to have known he would.
But that didn’t stop me.” He looked at the bottle of water he held.
His hand was shaking. He drew a deep breath and exhaled.
“On the way down Niles ran into a tree and had to be airlifted out of there. He was paralyzed.”
He hung his head and waited for her to say something. Not because he wanted her to, but because he figured most people would be uncomfortable with the silence and would want to fill it.
But she didn’t. She took hold of his hand. He stared at that birthmark and tattoo.
“I saw then what I was capable of. That thing in me that made me the fearless driver you spoke of could win seven championship trophies, but it could also do this to two people I supposedly cared about. And I can’t undo it. There’s nothing I can do to put that right.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers.
“People talk about guilt as though it’s something you can be absolved of, if you’re forgiven, but I don’t think that’s right.”
“Hello!” a voice Clarke knew all too well called out.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Things went downhill fast after Tilney showed up.
Once again, Clarke let Tilney rattle him and it didn’t take long for the two of them to zip around that track like they were challenging each other for a spot on the podium.
The racing between them became so intense he nearly crashed into Ceci’s kart more than once.
After they were done karting, Tilney hung around, flirting with her. That was nothing new. Except that she was flirting back. Clarke was worried she might accept Tilney’s invitation to go for drinks. Well, if she went, he was going too. He didn’t lower his shoulders until Tilney finally left.
Once he was gone, Ceci rounded on him. “How did Tilney know we were here?”
“Did you mind having him here? You didn’t act as if you did.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I might have mentioned it.”
“Might have?”
“All right, I did.”
“Why?”
Because I didn’t like what he and Anker were saying. That a girl like you would never seriously date a guy like me.
Not going to say that.
Clarke cleared his throat. “Because we’re supposed to be dating. People need to think we are.”
“So that’s why you suggested we come here? To make this whole fake thing look real?”
“Well, we are supposed to be doing that, aren’t we? I mean that’s what we agreed to do.”
But this had nothing to do with that. If it were just to perpetuate this fake dating scheme, he could have taken her somewhere he didn’t have to drive over an hour to get to. He’d wanted to see her on the track, even if it was only karts. See if his instinct was right. And it was. She missed it.
“Look,” he said, “I didn’t have a good time either after Tilney showed up.”
“Then why did you stick around? You could have left. Tilney would have given me a ride back to my father’s.”
“I couldn’t leave you alone with him.”
“Why the hell not?”
I could tell her he was the douchebag that Naomi fell in love with, the one on that mountain. Why don’t I?
Because it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t there for Naomi and that I’m the one who jumped at the chance to go off the trail, knowing Niles was bound to follow me. It doesn’t change the fact that because of me, Niles hit that tree and was paralyzed.
“I just couldn’t. That’s all.”