Chapter 24 Regan
TWENTY-FOUR
REGAN
It’s a dreary day here at Richmond. It’s been raining constantly since we arrived. Qualifying was rained out, so the lineup for the race is going to be the current point standings. So, Dean and I will be starting in the first two positions. That is, if they can ever get this race started.
Rainy days at the track are the worst. It’s a lot of waiting around for decisions to be made by the higher ups—which they like to take their sweet ass time doing.
Usually, Dad and I just hang out in the RV until we know what’s going to happen.
This weekend, though, he’s home sick with the flu.
So, it’s just me here, and it’s a little too quiet for my liking.
Just the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the RV filling the small space.
Dad and I would play games or watch TV. With it just being me here, it’s a bit lonely. Danny Shoulderman is filling in again. He didn’t do too bad the weekend he filled in while Dad was suspended, so it could be worse. At least we know how to work together this time around.
One of the other crew members was nice enough to bring the RV down for the weekend so I didn’t have to stay at a hotel or with Leslie. Not like there is anyone else here I could stay with, anyway.
Well, maybe one.
I think back to Dean’s kiss across the console of his truck after dropping me off that night we had dinner at The Pink Balcony.
I’ve been dreaming about that kiss—and the one when I was basically dry humping him in his apartment.
I wiggle on the couch at the memory. I have to stop letting my thoughts wander there; my battery operated boyfriend will soon need new batteries if I do.
I let out a long groan just as a notification comes through that they are postponing the race until tomorrow.
Now that I can start to fully relax, I can finish up one of the romance books I’m reading.
I pick my book up and get fully immersed.
The enemies are about to become lovers when my phone buzzes.
Dean
Hey. Can you swing by my RV?
Swing by his RV? For what? We have texted a little here and there since our not-date date. My curiosity is too much for me not to figure out what he wants. And to be honest, I kind of want to see him again, to breathe in his now familiar scent again.
That thought scares and surprises me.
Me
Sure. Where are you parked?
I start to put on some rain boots and a jacket as his response comes through.
Dean
At the end of the row. Hurry
Damn, this sounds like something important.
I grab my umbrella and start heading in his direction.
I’m passing Leslie’s RV when surprisingly, Chase walks out of it, hair tousled and shirt not buttoned correctly.
He looks up and stops dead in his tracks.
He wasn't expecting anyone to be out in the pouring rain.
“Chase? Are you coming out of Leslie’s place?” I ask, even though I know the answer already. He’s still staring, the sound of the rain hitting my umbrella and the awning he’s still standing under the only sounds passing between us.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads. “No one is supposed to know.”
“Okay. I didn’t see anything, then.” I start to walk off again when he says something behind me.
“Where are you headed, then?” Chase asks, his brow creasing as I turn to him to answer.
“Just needed some fresh air. Stuffy in the RV all weekend.” It’s partially true. Hopefully he doesn’t know where Dean is parked. Chase gives me a knowing look. He definitely knows where I’m headed.
I place a hand on my hip and glare. “I keep my mouth shut, you keep your mouth shut.”
He makes a motion of zipping his lips and we both walk in opposite directions. Leslie and Chase are hooking up? Hanging out? Dating? Why wouldn’t she tell me? How did that even start?
A pang of guilt goes off in my chest. To be fair, I haven’t told her anything about Dean, either.
So I guess we both will have things to confess to at some point.
I haven’t even told Cindy anything, either.
I’ve wanted to, but it never seems like the right time.
She’s super busy with school and work, and I don’t want to add my own problems on top of her busy schedule.
I get to Dean’s RV, and it’s a small truck-bed style, nothing like most of the big buses that are parked around him.
I knock on the door, and I hear some scrambling before a frantic Dean opens it.
I’ve never seen panic in his eyes before.
Only determination, understanding, and the desire that I saw back in his apartment.
Looking past him, I can see why he called for backup.
There is a huge leak in his roof. It’s raining inside as much as it is outside.
Why did he call me for help? He could’ve easily called Taylor or Chase, but I’m the one he called instead.
My heart squeezes inside my chest. I’m not sure what this feeling even is.
I feel…important to him, that I’m the one he wants when he needs help.
He gestures for me to come inside as he changes a bucket that’s directly under the leak, dumping the water into the small kitchen sink. Everything is soaked. There is about an inch of standing water already on the floor.
“I can’t stop the leak,” he says, his voice full of panic. “I’ve used up everything I have, and nothing’s working.”
I look around and fully assess the damage and think back to the extra supplies Dad usually keeps in the compartments of the RV. His eyes frantically search mine as I’m trying to think of a solution. Then it dawns on me that I may have something.
“I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” I run back to my RV and start searching the outside compartments, opening and closing them until I find what I’m looking for.
Bingo. Extra sheets of BearBond. These are used to hold torn up race cars together after an accident, so basically industrial duct tape.
If they can hold a race car together, I’m sure they can stop a leaky roof.
I take the sheets back to Dean’s place. This time, I don’t knock and just walk in holding up the sheets. “BearBond. Dad keeps extras in the compartments.”
“Karsen Brady to the rescue,” he muses. He takes a sheet from my hand, our fingers brushing slightly, sending a spark down them. We start working to cover the leak and use all the sheets I brought, finally stopping the leak.
“Now to clean up the rest of this mess,” he says.
“I’ll grab some more towels to help.” I turn to leave, but he stops me.
“Oh no, you’ve done enough already. I can clean this up.” I glance at the pile of already soaked towels and cross my arms over my chest.
“Dean, all of your towels are useless. Start pushing the water out the front door and I’ll get dry towels.”
“Ugh, fine. I guess some extra towels couldn’t hurt,” he concedes.
Another trip back and forth, and I have a stack of dry towels to use. Dean has gotten most of the stagnant water pushed out, and now it’s just a matter of drying as much as we can. The worst part is, the leak occurred over his bed, so there is no way he can even stay here tonight.
“Grab a to-go bag. You can crash on the couch at my place tonight,” I tell him.
“I’m sure I can stay with one of the guys. And what about your dad?”
“He’s out sick with the flu. It’s just me this weekend, so the couch is open.” I think about the last time we were in close quarters. I ended up on his lap, kissing his perfect lips. Goosebumps prickle my skin at the memory. No. No, that’s not what’s happening. I’m just helping a friend.
Who’s also your rival…right.
“I can crash with Sanford or something. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think Sanford is the way to go,” I say, thinking back to Chase coming out of Leslie’s place.
He looks confused. I guess Chase didn’t tell him, just like Leslie didn’t tell me about what’s going on between them.
“I may have seen him coming out of Leslie’s place looking… disheveled. If you know what I mean.”
“What? Chase and Leslie? Nah, you think?”
I nod. “Just don’t say anything. I promised not to say anything.”
I can tell that he’s thinking about his options.
Like part of him wants to say no to my offer, but the other part is leaning toward saying yes.
I’m offering him this option to be a friend, but selfishly, I want to have a reason to be close to him again.
That realization scares the shit out of me, but it isn’t enough to deter me, either.
“Alright, as long as you’re sure.” He holds my gaze for a beat, and that green storm in his eyes is starting to brew. Shit, maybe I should suggest staying at Taylor’s instead, but the devil on my shoulder is making sure that I don’t make that suggestion.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” I say. Mostly trying to convince myself, not him.
Memories of his touch, taste, scent, flood back once again.
The way his chest felt against mine, his hands gripping my hips tight, my fingers in his brown hair.
It was the most electrifying kiss I’ve ever had.
He doesn’t need to know that, though. His ego is large enough as is.
And I don’t think we could fit all three of us in my RV.
He grabs the bag he’s packed while I’ve been off daydreaming and slings it over his shoulder. We head back, and I let him in the RV first. He gives a low whistle. “Damn, Brady, this is nice.”
“Even better that it’s dry.” I instruct him to just place his bag wherever and to sit on the couch. “Beer?” I ask, reaching the fridge. I hand him one before he even answers. He takes it from me and pops the tab. “It’s no craft beer, but I hope it’ll do.”
“After the day I’ve had, I really don’t care what it is.” He takes a long pull from the can. I watch his throat work the cold liquid down, making me bite my bottom lip.
“That’s fair.” I open my own can and sit on the couch next to him. “Why do you mainly drink local beer?” I find myself asking.
“I like to try something new in each city or place I visit. Daniel and I used to do it, and I like to keep up the tradition.”
“That’s—sweet, actually,” I coo at him. We finish our beers in silence, and a shiver rolls through me. I forgot I’m still in wet clothes. “I’m going to change into something dry.” He looks down at his own clothes, as if he also forgot about his wet clothes.
“Sure. I should do the same.”
I head into my bedroom and close the door, taking a breath as I lean against it.
This is such a bad idea.