“Of course I did,” I say, shaking my head like the fool that I am. “Sorry about that.”
What the hell was I thinking? You can’t just walk up to a girl and clothe her.
She’s gasping from the shock and shivering now and I must have really scared her. Luckily the plastic lid on her coffee kept her from spilling it everywhere. She looks down at my hoodie around her shoulders and then back up at me. “Thanks,” she says, tucking her arms into it one by one. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold.”
“It is December,” I say, giving her a grin.
She shrugs. “Yeah but it’s never very cold where I’m from. Plus I’m just so new to this traveling thing. I’m not good at packing.”
A cool breeze hits me like a wall of ice. I try not to show how cold I am because I don’t want her to feel bad. My hoodie covers her like a baggy, oversized dress. It’s cute. And it screws with my head a little.
“Listen,” I say, and it’s killing me but I know what needs to be done. If I don’t stop this now, it’ll only get worse. I have to squash this crush before it becomes anything. “I know Keanna and the girls are probably messing with you because you’re single and I am too—”
Avery’s eyes widen and the color drains from her cheeks. I force myself to keep talking. “Seriously, don’t let her get to you. She’s annoying like that. We’re obviously two professionals and there’s nothing between us and there never will be, so I just wanted to set your mind at ease.”
She nods slowly. “Obviously.”
“Cool,” I say. I turn my attention to the lake because looking at her feels uncomfortable. I didn’t exactly want to say any of those words, and I didn’t really mean them. But it’s better this way. “So what are you doing out here alone?”
She shrugs, her attention also on the lake. “I took this job to travel. So I thought I’d try to see some places when I get a free moment.”
“Tallahassee isn’t very exciting,” I say.
She wraps my hoodie tighter around her body. “It’s better than not seeing anything at all.”
I watch her as she watches the water. She really is beautiful, with soft features and kind eyes. She looks so adorable all snuggled up in my hoodie, and even though she is strictly a coworker, I know without a doubt I’d give her my hoodie every time. I’d give her anything she wanted, no questions asked.
Which means that having this talk just made it seem like I don’t like her. It didn’t actually do anything. I should probably do something about that.
Chapter 10
Since the first two training camps went really well, I should have known something would happen to mess it all up. Here I was thinking I was actually good at my job and that these two weeks of camps would be easy.Ha!The day hasn’t even officially started yet and things have already gone to crap.
And on top of that, the weather got even colder overnight and now I’m freezing my butt off. I’m wearing jeans, my running shoes, a long sleeve Florida tourist shirt I bought from the hotel’s gift shop and the warmest fleece jacket the gift shop sold. It is so tacky it’s embarrassing, because it’s that kind of clothing that old people buy while on vacation, but it’s all I had. I gave Clay back his hoodie when we returned to the hotel last night and it was too late to try to take a taxi to a mall for some real clothing shopping.
Lesson learned. Always pack for all kinds of weather, especially in December, you big idiot.
I’m standing in the frigid cold at the score tower of the local motocross park, waiting on Marcus to return with the owner so he can let us into the building. Like the first two tracks I’ve been to, the owner of the place lives on site in a house that’s usually within walking distance of the main race track.
The two of us got here much earlier than scheduled because Marcus called me this morning at five-thirty saying there was a complication and we needed to fix it before the camp began. Now, I’m wondering what that all means. The sun hasn’t even risen yet and I’m standing here freezing my butt off. I guess this internship won’t be all roses and fun, free travel.
Finally, they arrive, and the owner, a man who is probably in his seventies, lets us into the score tower. It’s a small building that’s two stories tall so the announcer of the races can sit up on the second floor and view the entire track during race days. And, much to my annoyance, this little building is just as cold inside as it is outside.
The fluorescent lights flicker on and the owner tells us he’ll make us some coffee from the little kitchenette in the corner of the room. Marcus doesn’t seem affected by the freezing temperature and I try my best to act like I’m not wishing a pit of hot lava would open up from the floor and swallow me whole.
“So here’s the deal,” Marcus says, opening his laptop on a little table in the room. “We had three kids drop out of the training camp today. Apparently they were all siblings and they had some kind of family issue come up so they couldn’t make it. I talked with corporate and they want us to fill the spots on a first come first served basis.”
I tilt my head. “This is why we had to get here early?”
Marcus laughs, a hearty sound that fills the freezing room. “Oh, sweet child. You have no idea what we’re in for. There are so many people on the waiting list that we can’t just do a first come first served thing to fill those spots. We’re doing a lottery. I’ve already announced to the email group and on Facebook that everyone who wants a chance to fill the three empty spots needs to show up at seven in the morning and get a raffle ticket. We’ll choose three winners.”
“Okay, that’s not so bad.”
Marcus turns the laptop screen around to show me his email inbox, where there are dozens of replies to his initial email. “People are freaking out,” he says. “I’ve already been cussed out a few times for not posting about the openings sooner, for not making a second training camp so more kids can attend—” He shakes his head. “This whole thing was corporate’s idea to make us look better and to donate to charity, but it’s such a hassle. You think thefansare obsessive—parents of kids who want to be professional racers are even worse.”
“Maybe a lot of people won’t show up because it’s so cold,” I say hopefully.
Marcus laughs again. “You are too funny.”
