“Can I buy you another drink?” I ask, despite the fact that her drink is still mostly full. Her lips purse around the straw, sucking all of the liquid from the glass, finishing it.
“Sure.”
I buy us each another drink and a round of shots for us and her friends. We cheers, and everything after that is a blur of drinks, dancing, and forgetting everything that is Regan Brady.
I wake the next morning to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. My head is already pounding with a hangover. I scrub a hand down my face as my room comes into focus. At least I made it back to my own place last night. I groan and grab my phone—it’s Chase calling.
“Hello?” My voice is gravelly with sleep and from partying the night before.
“Hey, man. You sound awful. Just wanted to be sure you got to the track on time.”
The track? What the—oh shit, I need to get to Martinsville.
“Shit, right. Thanks, man.” I throw the covers off my bodyand roll to the edge of the bed. That’s when I notice a blonde woman in my bed…naked. That’s not the same blonde that I have been sleeping with. I clutch the phone tighter in my grasp. Though I’d wanted to forget about Regan last night, this was the furthest thing from my mind.
Fuck.
“Uh, what happened last night?” I ask Chase as I’m getting dressed and packing up my bag so I can leave for the track as soon as possible.
“Oh, what a night. Is Stacy still there?”
Stacy? I’m guessing that’s the blonde’s name, since that’s not Regan’s silky blonde hair on my pillow. Stacy’s looks more like straw, who is now awake and staring at me.
“You’re going to have to fill me in when I get there.”
“Sure thing. Don’t wait too much longer to get here,” Chase warns and hangs up as I’ve finished packing.
Fortunately, Martinsville is only a two hour drive from here and I can make it in less time if I don’t follow certain traffic laws. I’m still scrambling to grab some final items as Stacy sits up in my bed, sheet pulled up to her chest.
“You’re leaving?” Stacy asks.
“Um, yeah. Not to be an asshole, but you need to leave. I’ll call you an Uber.”
I’m tapping on my phone to get the car here while she’s pulling her dress and heels back on from last night.
“And here I was hoping that we would cuddle some more,” she jokes, the sarcasm clear in her tone. “An Uber would be great.”
I walk her out just as the car pulls up and I throw my bag into my truck. I’m glad I decided to load up the RV onto the back of my truck yesterday, or I’d be screwed.
“I had fun, maybe we could do it again,” she says. Again? I don’t want to do this again. I just want…Regan. I know last night was meant for me to forget her and treat us as a benefits only situation. After waking up to someone that isn’t her, that’s not something I want anymore.
“Oh—I—umm,” I stammer. She just laughs and gives me a quick kiss on the lips.
“You have my number. Text me.” She climbs into the Uber, and I stare at the taillights drifting off down the street. I touch my fingertips to my lips; it feels wrong to have someone other than Regan kiss them, it doesn’t feel the same at all. Flashes from last night start to come back to. The shots, the beers, dancing, bringing Stacy home, and everything that followed.
I run my fingers through my hair, still messy and tangled from sleep. Being with Stacy, waking up next to her was nothing compared to being with Regan. My stomach flips, nerves taking hold. How is she going to react to what I’ve done? I know we determined benefits only and nothing exclusive, but it feels like I’ve cheated. And after what she confided in me about her past—I’m so fucked.
“Fuck!” I shout once I’m inside the truck. I take off toward the speedway, my grip on the steering wheel so tight my knuckles begin to turn white. Regan can’t know what happened last night. It’ll destroy her, and she’ll never trust me again.
I make it to the track with enough time to set up in the infield and make it to the hauler to meet with Steve before qualifying and practice.
“About time you got here,” Steve disgruntledly says.
“Yeah, sorry. My alarm didn’t go off,” I lie. “But I’m here, let’s do this.”
Steve just nods and walks off. Damn, when he doesn’t say anything, I know he’s pissed. Qualifying and practice go decently enough despite my massive hangover and the pounding that continues in my head.
I climb out of my car and Chase is waiting by his car to do his run. I place my helmet in the car, grab a sports drink out of the team cooler, and head over to him.
