I storm off before Evan can ask any more questions. I’m still so angry about how the ending of this race went. I’m walking back to my hauler to meet with the team when I hear the cheers from victory lane—that shithead.
I don’t notice where my feet are taking me and I end up closer to the celebrations, watching as Dixon is covered in confetti and taking pictures for his sponsors. Smiling wide, showing off his stupid, perfectly white teeth, watching as he shoves his shaggy brown hair out of his face to put a hat on, highlighting his strong jawline that I haven’t noticed until now.
I shake my head, realizing where my thoughts are going. That’snothappening. I donotfind Dixon attractive; for god’s sake, he had a fresh grid girl with him today. Who he will ‘celebrate’ with later tonight.
All I can do is watch him and seethe in my anger.
EIGHT
DEAN
Standing on my car,my crew soaks me in champagne and confetti that continues to fall and stick to my body. I’ve just won Daytona, one of my favorite tracks; and win number two of this season.
I’m even closer to Brady in the standings. For a second, the thought of Brady gives me a pang in my stomach. It’s brief, but there.
I’m glad we won, but I hope she’s not too upset about how the race ended. I swear that I didn’t hit her. The air between our cars must have shifted, causing her to spin into the grass.
I clear thoughts of Brady out of my head and continue celebrating. Evan Knight appears for my post-race interview, and for once, I’m excited to give one.
“Congrats on another win this season, Dean. How do you feel about this win?”
“It feels great. Two wins this season is amazing and is helping us get closer to the Cup spot for next year,” I say, smiling so much my cheeks hurt.
“With Regan wrecking on that last lap,what was your perspective on what happened? She said you’re reckless, what’s your response to that?”
I look at Evan in shock.She said I’m reckless?I may be sometimes, but never with her. I clear my throat to try and remove the lump forming so I can answer.
“I’m sorry that she got turned around at the end there. It was an accident, but I’m not sorry for using her misfortune to win this race.”
“Do you plan to talk to her about it?”
Probably not.
“I’m sure we’ll have a conversation.”
“Thank you, Dean. Enjoy your win.” He turns to face back toward the camera. “Back to you in the studio.”
The camera person gives the signal that they aren’t live anymore, and leaves victory lane.
I think back to what Evan said about Brady finding me reckless. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much. Sure, there’ve been times I haven’t made the best choices, but that happens to everyone, right?
Finally, after taking all the necessary photos, I’m able to head back to the hauler to drop off my helmet and other equipment, and then back to the infield to be able to shower and change. I hear footsteps behind me, but think nothing of it until I hear a familiar voice.
“DIXON!” Brady shouts. She sounds pissed. Now that she’s here, might as well have a little fun and gloat to her face.
“Brady, come to celebrate, have you?” I put on my cockiest grin. She’s still storming toward me. Her brows are furrowed so tightly together, I fear they’ll be permanently stuck there.
Without any warning, her fist comes right for my face. It catches me so off guard that I don’t even try to defend myself. I fall straight to the ground, clenching my face, seeing stars behind my eyes.
Fuck! She fucking punched me.
Hot stickiness coats my hand, and it’s blood—comingfrom my nose. She has a mean right hook on her, holy shit. I can hear her storm off and another set of footsteps comes rushing toward me. Their voices are in the distance, muffled like my head is underwater. It takes a good minute for the ringing in my ears to stop for me to fully comprehend what they’re saying.
“Dean. Dean. You okay, man?” Chase asks, pulling me up by my right shoulder.
All I can manage is a slight grumbling noise in response.
“Let’s take him to the care center,” a voice on my left says. Taylor, I think. They each take an arm and take me to the care center.
