SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(103)

“I’d catch up with her quick if I were you.” I gave him a sarcastic smile. “If you really want everything you were promised, don’t let her jerk you around or she’ll be out of here before you know it. That’s just some free advice.”

I walked off, leaving him fumbling for a comeback. I wanted to make sure he acted as I thought he would. After a few paces, I looked back; he had diverted from his previous course and was headed to one of the sponsor hospitality areas. Following him at a discreet distance, I saw him walk up to the table where Suzi sat. He took her aside, and they talked. He looked like he was demanding something, and she appeared reluctant to go along with whatever he was saying. Then he got angry, and she did not look happy. He must have made some threat of dire consequences because, as he turned to leave, she unenthusiastically gestured for him to come with her. I trailed them to a parked car and watched them get into the back seat.

I just had time to pull out my phone and start videoing. It was a little difficult to keep it steady with the zoom maxed out, but I managed to capture Blake leaning back in his seat and Suzi, looking pretty unhappy, ducking her head down into his lap. I could just see the back of her head bob up and down a few times before Blake closed his eyes and threw his head back. Suzi sat back up quickly, wiping her mouth, and got out of the car without a word.

I headed back to the pits, too, chuckling to myself.

***

Later that afternoon, Keith and I sat around James’s bed in the medical center. He drifted in and out of consciousness a couple of times but didn’t really register our presence. He looked frail, with dark purple circles forming his eyes, presumably from hitting his head. His wrist wasn’t broken, but his shoulder had a break at the clavicle, or collarbone, that was a common injury among bike racers. It was the bang to the head that worried everyone. As of yet, we’d not been able to determine if anything—like his memory, speech centers, motor control, and so on—had been impaired.

I wanted him to wake up. I needed to know he was okay. I couldn’t even pretend things would be good if he wasn’t all right. I moved my chair closer and held his hand. It was soft, warm, and dry, and I would give everything I had or ever would have for him to touch me again. I trembled, and there was a lump in my throat I couldn’t swallow, but I wasn’t going to cry. I needed to be strong, and above all, look beautiful for him when he opened his eyes. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I turned to sit back down and heard a moan.

“Mmm…cotton…candy,” James croaked.

I stayed standing, leaning closer. His eyes blinked slowly open. He seemed to see me, and I saw a smile cross his lips. “Hi, baby,” I said softly.

“Summer,” he whispered. “Wow, I was having the best dream. You were going down on me…”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Keith remarked uncomfortably. I said nothing. I just smiled as a single tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. He was okay.

“Summer, why is Keith in our hotel room?” James wheezed.

I burst out laughing. “Who do you think you are, Dean Martin?”

He reached up and touched the tear stain on my cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“You were in an accident.” I tried to sound chirpy, to hide the tremble of tears of relief that threatened. “You’re in the med center, but you’re going to be fine.”

“Accident?” he mumbled.

“Yeah. That’s two bikes you’ve wrecked this weekend, you prat,” complained Keith. “Ray is going spare.”

“Tell him to kiss my black and blue ass,” James replied.

“Will do,” Keith grinned. “I’ll leave you two alone and go tell everyone you’ll live. Even Rossi was asking about you.”

“Tell him I’m honored.” He was a little more awake now. “Who won the race?”

“He did.”

Keith left the room to spread the good news. I sat, still holding his hand. Despite my resolve, I couldn’t stop another tear that rolled down my face.

“It’s okay, Summer,” he reassured me. “But whatever they’ve got me on, get them to give me some to take home, because…Wow!”

“You asshole,” I spat at him. “Do you know how worried I was?”

“I can only imagine”—he reached up to brush away the single tear—“and I’m so sorry. But I’m going to be fine. Here, pull that sheet back and hop on! I’ll show you how fine I’ll be!”

That made me laugh. Sure, he was high on painkillers, but the color was returning to his cheeks and his eyes were bright again. Even his voice sounded more awake. His lips were dry and his voice sounded labored, so I held a small beaker with a straw in it up to his mouth so he could sip some water.

“I thought you were dead for a minute,” I told him, “and I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

“I don’t even remember what happened,” he said.

I filled him in on what we thought Blake did and that I was sure Suzi was behind it. I decided not to tell him about the video, though. Not yet.

“Man, that’s fucked up,” he said. “Who knew she’d be such a psycho?”

“Yeah, anyway,” I said, “we’re flying back tomorrow. But we still haven’t decided exactly where you and I will fly to.”