“Risking a local draft?” I ask.
“I like to live life on the edge.” He smirks as he takes a sip from the glass. I laugh at his remark.
Is Dean Dixonfunny?
After the waitress takes our orders, Dean and I are having a conversation when Ian decides to yell across the table at us.
“Dixon! Don’t get too cozied up to Brady down there. It may make the rest of us jealous,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Some of the guys laugh, but the rest just stare, not amused.
I roll my eyes. No use responding to stupid comments likethat. If I did, I’d never stop talking. The screech of a chair being pushed back gets everyone’s attention as Dean stands, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward, glaring daggers at Ian.
“You’ll be wise to shut the fuck up, Hicks!” he growls out. The darkness that’s come over Dean’s eyes is almost…protective.
“Relax, man, it was just a joke.” He chuckles lightly.
The tic in Dean’s jaw says that to him, it’s not a joke. It’s a threat. I place my hand on Dean’s arm, warmth radiating through my fingertips, to try to get him to sit down.
“Dean, it’s okay. He was making a joke,” I say, keeping my voice calm. Dean slowly sits and the table resumes having their conversations, seemingly forgetting what just happened. I can see Ian smirking still, knowing that he got under Dean’s skin—and liked it.
Dean turns to me, the anger dissipating from his features. “A joke at your expense.”
“And?” I question. “It’s not like you haven’t done it. Won’t be the last time it happens. Just let it go. Please?”
He looks down at the table before looking back at me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I never went the sexist route, though, those irk me.”
I scoff. “Yeah, tell me about it. Story of my damn life in this sport.” Mostly it’s from trolls on the internet, but sometimes interviews can get rough with some of the questions they ask me, but wouldn’t dare ask the guys.
Food finally arrives and the conversations are flowing as we all enjoy our meals, all tensions forgotten, all stresses nonexistent. Just out, having fun for a change. I then feel the touch of Dean’s knee against mine. I stare down at our joined knees, and it seems…intentional. He doesn’t hurry to pull it away and neither do I. The warmth it provides shoots up my leg and through my spine, making me shiver. He pulls his leg away, and it doesn’t happen again through the rest of dinner, but I can see a slightly satisfied glance from him, like he knows what his touch just did to my body.
After returning to the track, I drop Leslie off at her place, but she doesn’t seem like she’s going to go inside. Weird. I do my best to be quiet entering the RV since Dad is probably sleeping on the pull-out couch.
“How was it?” asks a gravelly voice from under the covers.
“It was a good time,” I admit. Usually, Leslie drags me out kicking and screaming, but I’m glad I went.
“Good. I’m glad. It’s nice to see you hanging out with people besides Leslie.” He rolls over and I hear a slight snore. I head into my room to get ready for bed and plug my phone in to charge.
Dean
Thanks for coming out tonight. Hope you had fun
Me
I did. Thanks again for the invite. Hope you had fun too
Dean
I did. Maybe I should invite you more often haha
Me
Maybe you should. The guys usually forget about me lol
Dean
Yea guys are assholes
Me
