“I’m a fucking idiot.”
His chin drops. He stares down at my pants or his jeans, working it out like I have been.
“I . . . that . . . I just meant to say we both had options.”
“That’s not what you said.” I shove my dog to the side of my mouth, unwilling to let him off easy. “And that’s not what you meant.”
My mental energy was wasted on that statement for too many hours. He can sit with it a little longer while I finish my bite.
“I fucked it up. But what I meant was that I want you.” He meets my gaze, hard as it is, and then holds his hand up. “And before you argue that point too, it’s true. It’s why I keep trying with you. And maybe I’m a knucklehead for doing so, but I couldn’t just walk away the other night. Fuck, I wish I had your number. We could have worked through this faster. Not waiting days in between. Shit, I’m rambling now.”
I grab a couple of fries and drag them through the ketchup.
“By all means, ramble away.”
“Will you go somewhere with me? After this?”
The simplicity of the question catches me off guard. His eyes hold mine, so open, so eager for an answer that I nod before I’ve even processed the words.
“Can I finish my meal deal first?” I gesture toward the hot dog, still half-eaten on its paper wrapper. “Surprisingly, it’s good. Though I’m sure, the food poisoning will kick in later.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t laugh outright. Instead, he returns to his basket of food, content to let the conversation die.
Where is he taking me?
17
DIEGO
“I get it. The need to control everything. To have your hands on the reins of your future without relying on others. Others that could hurt or sabotage your plans.”
She doesn’t move much, but I catch her shoulders shifting slightly. Encouragement, maybe. Or maybe I’m imagining it.
“Something you can cling to when the rest of your world is going to shit, and you can’t trust anyone. That’s how I felt after my crash, Iz. Not just blaming myself for screwing up, but also blaming the whole damn universe for yanking everything away. MotoGP, sponsors, the whole dream. Gone in the blink of an eye.”
Sitting on the lowered gate of my truck on the old ridge overlooking the abandoned racetrack, the moonlight casts an eerie glow over the place.
Cracked patches of asphalt, weeds punching through, lines faded to nothing. It’s a graveyard for speed. The silence isn’t quite silent. There’s the rustle of the wind, the occasional chirp of some night bird, and the hum of distant traffic. But it’s quiet enough for the ghosts to escape and haunt me.
The tailgate creaks under me.
I glance over at her. She’s perched there, her knees pulled up, her arms wrapped around them, staring at my former glory. She’s not saying anything, but I can tell she’s listening, like she’s giving me the space to speak if I want to.
“Back then, racing was everything to me. I was living it and breathing it. The whole world was at my feet. I was there, Iz. The big leagues. I thought I was untouchable.”
I clutch the edge of the truck bed, the cool metal grounding me.
“And then . . . one mistake. One bad move. Pushing too hard into a turn, clipping another rider. Next thing I know, I’m airborne. The sound of the crash, the sky flipping overhead. I don’t remember much after that. I woke up in the hospital with my back shattered. I knew I was fucked. All of it was ripped away in a split second.”
There’s no point sugarcoating it. It’s a life that went on without me. Left me behind to figure shit out.
“The doctors said I was lucky to be walking. Surgery, rehab, a shit ton of screws in my back to stabilize my spine. They told me I’d never race again. Just like that, it was gone. The life I’d built, the one I’d planned for, just fucking over.”
She inches closer, and I slide my arm around her shoulders, drawing her flush against my side. Her touch is fast becoming as natural as breathing, and I’m liking it more and more. She crosses one leg over the other, letting her booted calf rest lightly over my thigh. It’s casual and intimate.
She doesn’t say anything, but the way she’s looking at me, it’s like she’s right in that moment with me. It makes the words come easier.
“My family wanted me to come back to Hawaii to recover.”
