A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (11 page)

BOOK: A Son of Carver (Carver High #2)
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He slings his right arm around my waist and shifts my body so that I’m leaned on his chest in the cradle of his arm. His massive legs are spread apart and mine are resting between them. I shift around a little, not sure how to work this so it doesn’t seem intimate.

The beginning of the ride is uncomfortable, not only because of the position I’m in but also because everyone is dead silent. The radio’s not even on. But eventually I relax into him and take long, deep breaths, hoping my zen-ness will rub off on the men in the car. And it works because eventually Nash’s deep breaths are in sync with mine. And his thumb is rubbing a lazy path back and forth across my stomach. Normally, I would tell him to take his hand off me, but I don’t think he realizes what he’s doing and I’m not about to make a scene in this truck.

The ride is taking so long I wonder if this was just an elaborate scheme to kidnap me. The sun has now set and the road we’re driving down is pitch-black. The good news is, it seems to be easing the tension in the car.

Nash shifts me, lifting me up and turning me further into him, folding my legs on top of his lap. “You’re bony little butt is killing my thigh,” he says in a deep, quiet voice.

In my new positon, my mouth is about an inch from his ear so I say quietly, “My butt is anything but bony.”

“Fine. The shelf of your luscious ass is killing my thigh.”

Nate snickers next to us and I discreetly pinch Nash’s stomach, but it’s rock hard so all I get is some skin.

“Ouch,” he says, pulling my hand away but not letting go of it. He turns his head so that I can feel his lips on my ear and says quietly, “Don’t get defensive. You know how much I love your ass.”

I’m not stupid, I know that his breath on my ear -that’s now wet from his mouth- is the reason why, but his words send a shiver though my body. I pull my hand out of his and try to ignore the smell of his soap, or aftershave, or whatever it is because it smells
good.
So good that I’m tempted to lick it off his skin.
Because it smells so good
. Not because I want to lick his skin.

“Relax, Presley, you’re making me nervous.” He grabs my hand again, the one that is now hanging out in front of us, loudly cracking its own knuckles. This time he interlocks our fingers and rests them on his stomach. He uses his ginormous hand to grab the back of my thighs and pull me up tighter to him.

This is too weird. And producing a nervous energy in my body that I’ve never felt.
Oh, hell
, where the crap are we going and how long until we get there?

I rest my head in the crook of his neck and close my eyes. It’s been years since I’ve felt as petite as I do wrapped up in Nash’s big body.

Eventually the vibration from the road, the dead silence and Nash’s warm body, that is literally encasing me, has me practically melting into him. I listen to the sound of his heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his breathing and say a little prayer that everything will be okay tonight.

Ten minutes later, Nick starts running through another check list – this one regarding the rapidness in which the evening’s festivities will need to take place. And I suddenly realize that I’m involved in some illegal activities. My stomach tightens into a hard ball and my hand that’s still in Nash’s clamps down on him. “You okay?” he asks.

“I think so. A little prepping on your part may have been helpful,” I tell him.

“Sometimes I forget you didn’t grow up around here. I just assume everyone knows what it’s all about.”

“I’m pretty sure I have no idea what any of this is about,” I tell him.

“When we get there, we’ll unload the car and the guys and I will double check everything to make sure nothing got out of line during the drive. We have five guys in our crew that will be there with their cars, and another crew of guys that are racing us. It gets a little chaotic and I’m gonna be distracted but just stay by me, no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah… okay.”

“It’s gonna be fine, Presley.”

“I know,” I tell him, but the shakiness of my voice betrays my words.

“This is the first race of the season so everyone‘ll be jacked up and talking shit. Especially to us. At the end of last season my dad was number one and I was number two so people are gunning for us. Nate will take care of the shit talking, so just try to ignore it. The races go quick. Most likely, I’ll be racing last and then everything gets packed up pretty fast and we’ll be back on the road heading home, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You’re gonna like it.”

“Uh, huh,” I mutter, voluntarily cowering into him now. This is not anything like what I expected it to be and all the unknowns are freaking me out.

A couple minutes later, Nick makes a turn and eventually a lit road comes into site. Cars are parked everywhere – regular cars, not street cars. Nick pulls up into the middle of the action and immediately the crew of guys that were at the Carter house are surrounding us.

We get out and all I can really do is try to stay out the way as the guys get the car unloaded. Nash is obviously preoccupied but looks over at me every few minutes, I think to make sure I’m still here. There are other crews doing the same thing and behind the vehicles is a pretty large crowd of people, I know Brandon and other people from school are there but I don’t consider going to them, I need to stay by Nash.

They shut the hood on Nash’s car and he nods his head, telling me to come to him. I walk over then follow him to the circle where the drivers and their crews are gathered. I’m in the center of the fray now and the shit talking is in full force. It seems like they’re calling each other out between insults and then agreeing on the amount of money they’ll be putting up.

I feel out of place but no one seems to pay me any attention and Nash has his arm protectively around me again. It’s strange, but I’ll be his security blanket if that’s what he needs. It seems like all the guys who are doing the racing have security blankets of their own by their side or under their arms.

For some reason, once I understood what was happening tonight, I just assumed that it would be a bunch of stupid high school kids with their egos and balls out acting recklessly. But Nash seems to be the youngest guy here and most of the men look closer to Nick’s age and the women they have their arms around are probably their wives. I wonder who’s usually standing by Nash.

The guy who calls Nash out is big and bald and covered in tattoos. “I’m gonna whoop your ass and next time your daddy better be man enough to bring his sorry excuse for a car because I’m gonna whoop his ass too,” he says and I’m immediately offended, but I’m obviously not gonna voice my opinion.

“Alright, tough guy,” Nate laughs. “Pretty sure you made that exact same threat last time we saw you, and what happened? Hmm, I can’t seem to remember because you are so far off our radar I can’t even see you. Nash? You remember?”

“My old man smoked your ass by four car lengths with his
sorry excuse for a car,
” he says, coolly. Turns out that smile of his is useful for things besides making panties wet. It looks like it’s pissing the hell out of Mr. Clean. I’m totally cheering internally.

“Well you, little boy, ain’t your daddy.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have any problem putting up a k.”

A k? Like a thousand fricking dollars? What the hell.

Bald guy flinches at that. If he backs down, he’s gonna look like a total wuss. Even I know that.

“You got that much money on you, little boy?”

Nate pulls out a wad of cash and says, “You’re out of excuses tough guy. Put up or get out.”

“I’ll gladly take your money,” bald guy says before turning around.

As Nash turns me around I can’t hold it in anymore. The adrenaline is coursing through my body at an alarming rate. I don’t know what the hell I got myself into but it’s a rush like I’ve never felt before, and the race hasn’t even started. “Holy crap, that was badass,” I tell him, my excited eyes looking up at him.

He smiles at me. “I am pretty bad ass, Presley. Seems like you should know that by now.”

“But a thousand dollars? Holy shit. Are you nervous about losing it?”

“I want to say
hell no.
I have the better car, I’m the better driver, but anything can happen.”

“What do you mean, anything can happen?”

He shrugs at me. “Things can go wrong with the car, things can go wrong with the road, there’s nothing regulation about this, just a bunch of unknowns.”

“Oh shit,” I start chewing on my nail.

He grabs my hand and pulls it out of my mouth, holding onto it again. “It’s gonna be fine,” he tells me for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Have you ever gotten hurt?”

“Nope, never,” he tells me with a cute smile.

“And that’s not gonna change, right?”

“Nope.”

“You promise?”

He cocks his head at me. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re worried about me. You might even care about me.” He wags his eyebrows at me.

Both those things were true before I showed up at his house tonight, but now they’re even more so. “Of course I do. And, I mean, you can’t kick that guys ass if you get hurt. And you
need
to kick that guy’s ass… I didn’t like him at all.”

He laughs, lets go of my hands and cups my face. “You’re so damn cute.”

I don’t have a chance to react because his attention is suddenly on the commotion behind me. “Come on,” he says, dragging me forward to where Nate and Nick are standing.

I watch two guys climb into their cars. They start their vehicles up and I startle at the noise, grabbing on hard to Nash’s arm. They each flinch forward, smoke pouring off their wheels. I don’t think this is part of the race, but I’m not sure. Eventually they stop moving, their engines still running, the sound shaking everything inside of me. There’s a big bearded man standing in front of the cars, motioning them forward to the starting line.

“Who do we want to win?” I yell over the noise.

“The Mustang,” he yells back.

I look at him blankly.

“Right lane,” he clarifies, pointing to the yellow car.

Suddenly, a bright light flashes and the two cars take off. “Holy crap,” I mutter at the intensity. Both cars jump, tires squealing and smoking. The Mustang looks like it’s doing a wheelie and the other car looks all squirrely and immediately everyone is screaming and swearing and cheering as the two cars go screaming down the road. I don’t know what’s gotten into me but I’m jumping up and down screaming for the yellow car to win, my heart pumping a million times a minute.

And then it’s over. Just like that.

Nash and his family and crew are slapping hands and throwing car terms back and forth – none of which I understand. And then the guy who started the race drops his walkie talkie from his ear and says, “Mustang by two lengths,” confirming that their guy won.

Money is being exchanged left and right, cheering and back slapping ensues and when Nick gets to my back and I stumble forward for the third time tonight, I don’t even mind, in fact I slap him back just as hard. And when Nash picks me up and folds me into his body, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him just as tightly, squealing into his ear.

 

Nash was right, everything is happening too quickly. I want to see Nash race, but I don’t want this to be over. Nash stays by me through the first three races – two won by his crew- but now he’s at his car with his dad and brother and some of the other guys, the hood’s open again and I just hope everything’s okay.

For the first time since the races started my eyes veer to the crowd loosely surrounding the area where all the “car guys” are and I see a flock of people from school, including Brandon, Summer and Jolee. My cousin looks right at me with a murderous glare on her face.
Excellent.
She’s gonna make my life even more hellish just because I’m with Nash. Which reminds me, I don’t even have my damn camera. I see the truck and trailer parked over on the grass but ignore it when I hear Nash calling out my name.

I head over to him. “Stay by my dad, okay. I don’t want you getting separated from us and we have to move quick after I’m done.”

“Okay,” I tell him.

He gives me a tight smile and I don’t like it. I don’t like that he’s nervous because he’s never nervous. I want him to win, but more than that I want him to be okay. Before I can think about it, I’m up on my tip toes with my arms wrapped around his neck. He holds me close to him and I tell him, “Be careful out there, okay.”

“I try to be,” he tells me.

I pull back and look at him severely. “You
try
to be?”

He just smiles at me.

“Don’t try, just be. Be safe. Promise me.”

“Yeah, Presley.”

I’m annoyed that he won’t just say the words, but I hear Nate telling him it’s time to move so I have no choice but to drop it.

I let go of Nash but he doesn’t let go of me. He holds me to him, staring at me like he’s got something to say, making me nervous as hell. He moves closer to me and I can’t breathe. He stares at me with his green eyes, his lips parted, moving closer and closer to mine and I know I should stop him but I don’t know if I want to. When, at the last second, he shift his position and plants his lips on my forehead, I’m both relieved and disappointed. He lets go of me, and a second later, he’s in his car pulling up to the starting line.

BOOK: A Son of Carver (Carver High #2)
9.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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