Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
DEAN
She looks like a fucking bombshell in that red dress. And that slit comes up so high, she may risk flashing someone.
I know she’s still mad about our fight and miscommunication, but I’m hopeful we can still sort all of this out. I went all out with this tux, and from the way she’s looking at me, it’s working.
I thought about what Chase and I talked about, and he’s right. I need to show her that I want her and only her.
“It would be an honor to escort you inside,” I say, extending my elbow to her. She looks back at her friends, who are pretending to be interested in a plant nearby, and flips her blonde hair that is styled in a nice half up, half down situation.
“No thanks.”
My face falls as she walks over to Cindy and Leslie, still flashing that bit of thigh as she does, and they stride toward the elevator. Not even bothering to look back in my direction until the doors close on the elevator. That went differently in my head.
Chase comes up beside me with a cocky grin on his face. “That went well.”
I don’t know why he’s smirking; he’s not here with Leslie.
He brought his sister Karla with him. She’s a about the same age as us, and still in college, close to graduating, I think.
Though I’m not sure how they are so close in age, but I’m not going to ask about that.
Chase and Karla look similar but not as alike as you would think siblings would be.
While Chase’s hair is a bright red, Karla’s is more of a strawberry blonde, and her eyes are a golden hazel color to Chase’s light green.
“Shut up. Not like you’re here with the person you want to be with, either,” I quip. That shuts him up real quick, and Karla’s head whips in Chase’s direction.
“No offense, Karla,” I quickly say.
“It’s okay, I’m more curious about who this person is,” she taunts Chase, whose face is beet red.
I take the stairs to give me time to think while Chase and Karla wait for the next elevator. I can show Regan who I can be, I can explain everything, I just need to get her alone, get her to listen.
This is probably the fanciest gala I’ve ever been to.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, and even the big guns of the SCORS series are here.
Both the president, Ramon Vera, and the vice president, Bryan Graves, are here.
I’ve only seen them in passing; never had the opportunity to have a conversation with them.
A lot of sponsors are here as well—it’s a full house.
I walk through the ballroom to get to the bar. There are tables with white tablecloths and plate settings ready for the dinner portion, and a space for a dance floor after the auction. Everything is black and white, very sleek and modern.
I meet Chase, Taylor, and Ian when a figure appears next to me. I take my beer from the bartender and turn to see who has taken the space next to me. It’s none other than Ramon Vera himself. In a blue pinstriped suit and his black hair styled and swept to one side.
Oh, shit. Okay, breathe. Everything is fine.
“Dean Dixon,” he says, extending his hand. He’s a bit shorter than I am, and his other hand is holding what looks to be a whiskey with a nice Rolex on his wrist.
“Mr. Vera.” I give his hand a firm shake.
“Please, it’s Ramon. I’ve been following your season. There’s a good chance of you stealing this championship out from under Regan Brady’s feet,” he says, taking a sip from his glass.
I take a sip of my own beer. “That’s the goal, sir.”
“Keep up the good work. I expect great things from you in the future. If you’ll excuse me.”
I nod as he walks off to talk to a group of sponsors.
“Holy shit,” exclaims Chase. “That is probably the best compliment that you can get from Ramon Vera.”
“Yeah,” agrees Taylor. “I’ve been part of SCORS for forever and he’s barely even talked to me once.”
We take our drinks and wander through the ballroom before dinner is to be served and talk to some crew members and their spouses, as well as some sponsors.
Once the dinner portion is over, Chase, Ian, Taylor and I refresh our drinks and are doing another round talking with some more sponsors.
After they have left to return to their partners, a woman saunters up to us in a skintight, light blue dress and heels so high, I’m surprised she makes walking look as easy as she does.
Her dark hair is pulled up into a high ponytail that rivals Ariana Grande.
“Why hello, boys. Don’t you all look dashing?” the woman says with a big, flashy smile.
Chase, Taylor, and Ian are all basically drooling over this woman. I take a step away, just in case a certain pair of hazel eyes are watching, but that seems to draw her closer to me.
“You must be Dean,” she coos.
I clear my throat. “Yep, that’s me. But I’m not sure I know who you are.”
“Oh, right. How rude of me not to introduce myself, I’m Claire,” she says, extending her hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you, Claire. This is Chase, Taylor, and Ian.”
“Lovely to meet you all.” Her gaze turns back to me.
This woman is trouble, I can feel it. I should steer clear of her, but that appeal is also what is pulling me in, and she knows it, too.
I don’t want anything to jeopardize anything with Regan, either.
I’m trying to get back on her good side, not give her a reason to hate me more.
“I was going to go get a drink. Care to join me, Dean?” She reaches out, and before I know it, she has her arm looped around my elbow, leading me toward the bar. The guys do nothing to save me.
She leads me to the bar and orders herself a drink. Luckily, I’m still sipping on the one I got earlier, so hopefully, just waiting for her to get her drink won’t take too long.
“So, how are you enjoying the gala?” she asks.
“It’s fine. Not used to being at fancy events like this,” I admit. Though it would have been better if Regan was on my arm and not Claire.
The background music dies down, and I use this as my out as Ramon and Bryan are now on the stage at the front of the ballroom with a microphone.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight, all looking your absolute best. In the front of the room there are items up for auction. All proceeds will go to the local children’s hospital to ensure that families have access to the quality care they deserve.
Bidding starts now, and we will announce the winners at the end of the event,” Ramon says.
The crowd gives an applause as Ramon and Bryan leave the stage.
Hordes of people head over to the auction table to see what they want to bid on.
I walk around the tables, pretending like I’m interested in bidding on the items, but really I’m looking for Regan.
She’s leaning over a table, reading about an item.
“Spa day, huh?” I ask, coming up behind her, making her jump.
“Jesus Christ, Dixon. You scared the shit out of me,” she says, clutching her chest.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” She places her hands on her hips and looks like she’s about to tear me a new one, when the DJ starts to play music and crowds of people start to flood the dance floor. I extend my hand out to her, pleading with her to take it, to give me another chance.
Rolling her eyes, she takes it, and sparks fly all the way up my arm and through my entire body, straight down to my cock. This woman is going to be the death of me, I fucking swear.
We get to the dance floor, and she stands like she doesn’t know what to do. I grab onto her hips and pull her into me. Her breath hitches and her arms go around my neck as we start to sway to the fast beats of the music.
She finally starts to relax as I spin her out and back into me. Regan raises her brows in shock, and I dare to say she seems slightly impressed.
“You didn’t think I could dance?”
“No, I didn’t,” she admits.
We continue to dance, holding each other’s hands.
She spins so that her back is to my front, and I grab hold of her waist. Her body sways to the music, her ass grinding into my crotch.
One hand slides down to the top of her slit, so I can touch the skin of her exposed thigh.
I dig my fingers into her flesh, and I swear she lets out a small moan.
I just want to stay here, in this moment. Having Regan in my arms is where I need to be, where I want to be. I can’t believe that I screwed it up with just one text. But it seems like I’m on my way to making things better.
The song switches to something slower. The people around us pull their partners to the floor, and Regan turns to look at me, silently asking me if she should leave the floor or not.
She starts to walk off the floor, but I gently pull her wrist, pulling her back to me.
Luckily, she doesn’t fight it and allows me to keep dancing with her.
“I did mean it before, you know. You look absolutely incredible tonight,” I muse.
“Thanks. You clean up well, Dixon.” Her tone is teasing, flirty, making blood rush south again.
Her fingers start to play with the stands of hair at the base of my neck, sending a shiver through me, reminding me of when she pulled my hair as she came on my face that night.
That thought is making my cock even harder; I’m sure she can feel it. If she does, she doesn’t let on.
“That’s all I get for the effort I put in? Come on, Brady. You should give me more credit than that.”
“Fine. You look nice, too. Happy?”
“With you, I’m always happy.”
The corners of her mouth tip up, though I can tell she’s trying not to let it happen. I know she’s still mad at me, and I don’t blame her. We just need to be able to move past this.
“I’m sorry,” I say. Looking down at her, I need her to understand that what I feel is real and that night at Richmond wasn’t just sex. It was everything. I’ve never felt this way about anyone I’ve been with.
“It’s fine. I should’ve known better than to think anything else. I shouldn’t have put that on you.”
“That’s not how I feel. What I said isn’t what I meant. I just…need to be near you.”
“You need to be near me? What does that even mean, Dean?”
I don’t think I even know what it means. I just need her in my life, however she’ll have me. I don’t have the answer that she’s really looking for. Her eyes narrow and she pulls herself from my grasp, storming off the dance floor and out of the ballroom.
I catch up to her quickly, as her sky high heels make it harder for her to walk, and I stop her from rounding the next corner.
“Let go!” she shouts.
“Not until you talk to me! What I said over text was careless. I need you.”
“Need me? For sex? To be your next grid girl?”
“No. That’s not what I meant, and you fucking know it, Brady,” I say, letting my frustration take over. Everything I say to her, she just twists to make it seem like I’m just being an asshole, when I’m trying to apologize. “What is it you’re scared of?” I ask. Her eyes darken with anger.
“I’m not scared of anything.” She jerks her arm from my grasp, turns down the hall, and walks into the woman’s bathroom.
I rake my fingers through my hair, not caring if I mess it up.
It took way too long to get my hair to stay in one direction.
I storm into the women’s room and lock the door with a notable click.
She looks at me through the reflection of the mirror, still putting on more of the red lipstick that matches her dress.
“This is the women’s room, you sleaze.”
I stalk over to her, and without thinking I grab onto her thighs and lift her onto the sink, placing my hands on either side of her, caging her into my space.
“I don’t care what room it is, Brady. We are going to talk.”
She gasps at my demand, but doesn’t try to get away, either.
“Fine,” she says, her voice breathy. “You have five minutes.” She raises a brow in challenge.
Fine, two can play this game.
“You’re so fucking stubborn. I don’t know who hurt you to run away from me, but trust me, after I’m done with you, they will be wiped from your memory.”
“Four minutes,” she counters.
“I want to be near you, Regan, because you make me feel good, alright? You make me feel like there could be a life outside this racing world. I haven’t had that since Daniel died. I’ve lived and breathed racing. I need you, more than I’ve needed anyone. I’ll be here however you’ll take me, Brady.”
Her eyes soften at my confession. She knows that what I said is the truth and she’s taking it all in. She looks down before she speaks again.
“Of being hurt,” she says so quietly that I almost don’t hear her.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You asked me what I’m scared of. I’m scared of being hurt.” I wait for her to continue. “My previous ex cheated on me, treated me like a second thought, and then tossed me aside for the next girl who came his way.”
My heart aches for her. That sounds awful; no wonder she was so upset about what I said. All the pieces of the Regan Brady puzzle are slowly starting to come together at her admission.
“Regan,” I dip my head to meet her gaze, “I promise to never do that to you. You have my word.”
She ponders for a moment longer, pursing her red painted lips together in thought. I can tell that she’s trying to pick her words carefully.
“Benefits only,” she finally says. I blink at her, taking in the information. “Sex only. No feelings or anything. No one knows.”
“Are you sure? You just said—” But she cuts me off.
“I know what I just said. This is the only way I can see us working in any capacity. Take it or leave it.”
Without a moment's hesitation, I say, “Deal.” I dive in and cover her mouth with mine, consuming her, claiming her. Her lipstick smears onto my skin, but I don’t give two fucks about it.
She tastes like fucking heaven. She tastes like…mine.