Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Iwatch Mackie leave, and this horrible feeling claws at my chest. When I glance at Skylar, he’s shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.” He stands, wiping crumbs off his chest. “Nice to meet you, Amanda.” He departs as well, leaving me with her.
She instantly drops the act, and I steer her into my office. Once the door is shut, I look at her.
“Enough,” I snap, shaking off her touch as I sit on my desk. She huffs and looks at the worn chair opposite it before perching on my desk in disgust. “Why are you really here, Amanda?” I ask. “And what is with the nice act out there? What do you need?”
“Just putting on a show in case our parents are watching and reporting back,” she grumbles, looking at her nails.
“This is my garage—”
“And you’re a fool if you don’t think they have spies in your life,” she retorts. “I like Mackie. He’s cute.”
“Don’t,” I warn, clenching my fists. I have no doubt she picked up on the way I was looking at him.
“Is he the one?” she asks, looking at me, those poisonous eyes narrowed. She’s smart, way too fucking smart. “The reason you refused the engagement?”
“Leave him alone,” I warn her.
“So it is him.” She smirks. “Your parents thought there was someone else. I figured I’d find out for myself.
Does he know about your family? About me?
Should I go ask him?” She stands, grinning at me.
“Or maybe I’ll simply play with him myself.
He is a bit rough for my taste and clearly doesn’t have money, but that always makes them so desperate to please me. ”
The idea of seeing those cruel nails anywhere near my Mackie has me seeing red, and I’m on my feet before I know it. I’ve protected him and my people from this side of my life, which is just another reason why I can’t let anyone close, but here it is, in my office, ruining everything I’ve built.
“Amanda, let me make something very clear.” I lean in, and she backs up, hitting the wall.
My face shows my anger, and for the first time ever, she looks scared of me.
Good. “Don’t ever try to mess with my boy or his life.
Understood? You can play your games with me and our parents, but if you bring him into this, I’ll finally start to pay attention, and you don’t want that, trust me. ”
“You don’t scare me, Noah,” she protests, but her eyes are a fraction too wide and her breathing is too heavy.
“Yes, I do, and I should. I never fought you or my parents over the shit you pulled, but for him, I will. You are not the only one with money. You are not the only one with power. Don’t forget who I really am.”
“That’s why we are so perfect for one another,” she says. “We are both cruel and twisted. You can still have him. I don’t care. The marriage can be in name only. We don’t have to be faithful to each other.”
My fist smashes into the wall at her side, and she jumps.
“I told you and I told them, but let me repeat myself. I will never marry the person they chose. I will never marry you. Now, don’t ever show up here again, and if I even hear a whisper that you have looked at Mackie wrong, I will tell your prissy parents what their daughter really gets up to with their money.
” I reach past her, and she flinches, but I just open the door and step back. “Now go while I’m still being nice.”
Tilting her chin up, she pushes off of my wall and flips her hair over her shoulder. “This isn’t over.”
“It never even began in the first place,” I scoff. “Leave, now.”
With one last glare at me, she huffs and flounces from my office.
Pain blooms in my head, and I step around my desk and slump into my chair, pinching my nose to stave off the impending headache, but it’s no use.
Opening the top drawer before the pain takes over, I pop the top on the familiar bottle, down two pills, and lean back.
I close my eyes, hoping like hell it goes away soon. I can’t afford to have anyone notice.
I end up working late to make up for the two hours I lost midday due to the blaring migraine, so when I turn off the lights in my office and step out, I’m surprised to see the simulator still running. Frowning, I head over but stop when I realize it’s Mackie.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, so I just watch him.
His face is locked in concentration. The road always gets his entire focus.
He’s been like that since the first day he showed up here as a new racer seeking glory.
I thought he wouldn’t last a week. I was wrong about him.
He has more determination in his pinky than most people have in their entire body, not to mention his kindness and passion for racing.
It rivals mine. Hell, he reminds me of myself when I was his age.
It’s what used to annoy me about him before I realized he just wants to be the best he can be for me and our team.
I don’t know when the line between boss and racer got blurred, but it did.
After late nights helping him practice, private lessons, and teaching him all my hard-earned skills and knowledge, we became close.
Neither of us knew what this was. I don’t blame him for being confused and thinking he cares for me.
I even enjoyed it, allowing myself a few stolen months thinking we could cross that line and I could take what I wanted before reality came crashing down.
He’ll hate me for what I’ve done, but it’s for the best.
He has all the time in the world, and I don’t, but it’s harder than I thought it would be to let him go and see him moving on with someone else.
Sighing happily, he leans back when he wins the race and slides from the simulator, groaning as he stretches. His shirt rises to show off his toned abs, and I remember how they felt in my hands when I dragged him closer.
Turning, he sees me and freezes. “Noah?”
Clearing my throat, I nod and grab a chair, sitting on it backwards. “I was working late. You are still cutting that last corner short,” I comment, my voice rough as I try to ignore the desire between us.
He nods and sits in the chair opposite me, sweeping his eyes over me, and I wonder what he sees. Does he still want me like he did before, or does he have feelings for Conan now?
Does Conan know what he tastes like?
I hate the thought, so I shake my head. “What did I tell you?”
“Take the corner late and speed up,” he replies, looking unsure as he plays with the edge of the table.
It was never like this before. He used to get nervous, but it was shyness and I enjoyed teasing him.
He always watched me with hero worship, it made me feel invincible, but all I feel now is very human, flawed, and tired.
“Good, remember it next time. You can head home now. Don’t overdo it. You need an equal balance of rest and a healthy diet,” I remind him. It’s something I’ve said a million times, and it comes from a place of love and concern, but he just nods, not fighting me like he used to, and I hate it.
I hate the silence between us and how awkward it feels, like we are strangers.
“Mackie, look at me,” I order, and his eyes finally meet mine and I can breathe again. I scoot my chair closer despite my convictions. “You can talk to me if something is bothering you, you know that.”
“I know,” he responds slowly. “I’m fine.”
Are we? I want to tell him we haven’t been the same since the restaurant and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s driving me crazy.
“You look tired,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to reach for my face before he drops it.
I want to grab it and press it against my skin, but there’s distance between us I dare not breach.
He’s building walls, and I fucking hate it so much.
I know it’s my doing and it’s what I wanted, but it hurts so badly.
“I haven’t been sleeping,” I admit, and he blinks at me. “Too much on my mind.”
He nods, drumming his fingers on the table. “I should get going.” Standing, he grabs his bag and slips past me. My hand darts out before I realize what I’m doing, and I stop him in his tracks. He looks down at the connection and then meets my gaze. “Are we okay?”
“Of course, boss,” he says, and I flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He tugs his hand from mine, taking his warmth with him. I stare after him, wondering how everything got so messy.
“You’ve missed your last three checkups, Noah,” Henry admonishes as he sits heavily in the chair behind his desk.
“Yeah, well, work has been busy, and I didn’t want to hear the same shit over and over again,” I grumble as I relax in the chair opposite as he logs into his computer and pulls up my file. I’ll be late to work, but he’s right. This is important.
“How’s your prep going for the championship?” he asks as he types.
“Same old shit. We’ll get there though,” I answer. “Our racers are the best.”
“Racers or racer?” he teases, his eyes sparkling as he looks over at me.
He’s a few years younger than me, and we met after my last major crash.
Unlike all the other doctors, he didn’t look at me with pity.
Right from the get-go, he would tease me and talk to me like we’re friends.
He would stop by on his rotations at lunch and eat with me.
When my world was crumbling, he became a friend, even if he is a doctor.
“Shut it, doc. Don’t you know being a know-it-all isn’t good?” I grouse.
“Sure, you tell me every time. How is that cutie?” he asks as he leans back in his chair. “The one whose picture I found in your wallet.”
The biggest regret of my life. I’d left it here by mistake, and the dickhead stole a few bills for coffee to wind me up and found Mackie’s picture.
“You know, there’s this thing called a doctor-patient relationship,” I begin.
“Eh, I never got that.” He shrugs. “So tell me, have you stopped being stupid and asked him out?”
“No,” I mutter, and he sighs.
“Noah, why not?” he asks, leaning into his desk.
“You know why,” I snap before rubbing my head. I feel him watching me, and I don’t want to see his pity.
“How have your headaches been? Nosebleeds?” he presses.
“Fine. No worse than normal.” It’s a lie, but honestly, what else can he do?
“Noah—”
“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t tell me that it’s under control and that I can live my whole life—” I swallow. “Don’t give me hope when there is none, okay? I’ve come to terms with it. I won’t change my mind. I won’t let anyone close enough to get hurt by this. Now, doc, how’s the scan?”
He watches me sadly for a moment before turning his screen and showing me.
I run my eyes over it, knowing what to look for by now.
“Noah.” He draws my gaze. “Everyone needs love. Everyone needs someone to support them—a friend, family, or a loved one. Blocking them from your life out of fear and trying to protect them won’t stop them from getting hurt.
It will just make it hurt worse when they find out.
So, are you really trying to protect them, or are you just scared? ”
“Scared? I’ve never been scared. You know that,” I protest.
“Not of dying or driving fast cars . . . but this? Loving someone? Yeah, I think you are. I think you’re scared of getting your hopes up and it not ending well.
That’s life, buddy. Shit happens. You make mistakes, hurt people you love, and get in and out of relationships.
It’s part of being human. Don’t deprive yourself of that.
Stop holding yourself back, Noah. It’s not a selfish, heroic act.
Ask yourself this—if the worst does happen, will it hurt less because you didn’t tell them you loved them, or will it hurt more because you didn’t make the most of your time together? ”
He turns his screen toward him, and I stare at him.
“Think about it,” he demands, “and come for your next checkup, or I’ll show up at your garage. Hell, I might just do that anyway to see that cutie.”
“He’s not your type,” I grumble.
“No, but he’s yours,” he teases. “Alright, off with you, grumpy. I have other patients, ones who want to live.”
“Smart-ass,” I mutter as I stand, but I hesitate. “You think it would hurt them anyway?”
“You don’t stop caring for someone just because they push you away,” he comments. “And if he’s like you said, then I don’t think anyone will stop him from caring for you, so yes, I think it would hurt him.”
“He’s moving on. It’s good,” I say.
“For whom? Not for you. I hate to tell you, but you look miserable.”
His words haunt me the entire way to the garage.
Do I look miserable?
Will it hurt less just because I want it to?
Could I really break Mackie’s heart like this?
Haven’t I already? I just wanted to protect him, but maybe I hurt him more than this ever could.