SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(83)

Now, though, sitting on the grid, I was thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. The awkwardness that would inevitably ensue when we realized we have nothing in common, no matter how many times we fucked. I should probably forget about any kind of repeat performance with Summer.

I got off my bike and walked up to Blake.

“What the fuck do you want, Spence?” he snapped at me. He was really taking this rivalry too far.

“I need a word,” I told him, “with Suzi.”

His face fell as I turned my back on him. “Missed you last night, sexy,” I whispered to Suzi. Obviously I didn’t, because I was with Summer. I was just trying to screw with Blake.

“Missed you too, baby,” she purred back.

I could hear a grumbling behind me. “Why don’t you piss off, mate?” Blake barked as the klaxon announced to prepare for the parade lap. “Some of us are here to race, not pick up girls.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t if you could, would you?” I teased him, “It’s just a shame you’re so ugly. Gotta go.” I winked at Suzi. She blew me an air kiss as I dashed back to my ride.

“I’ll fucking get you!” I thought I heard Blake wail behind me as Ray started up my motor.

It was a fun race. I liked the track, and I managed to avoid Blake locking his brakes and crashing at the hairpin in front of the Dunlop hospitality garage. I nearly crashed straight after, like a lovestruck idiot, thinking about whether Summer sat in there watching me or not.

Crowds gathered in the pits to see the top riders take their places and receive their trophies. Little Marc won. I actually scored a point for fifteenth place, and was on a pretty good high from that. Blake was unhurt from his little get-off, which made it the second time I’d beaten him this season. But as I watched Marc, Ducati’s Andrea Dovizioso, and the legendary Valentino Rossi on their podium spraying champagne across the eager fans below, I didn’t see Summer anywhere. Disappointed, I retired to my trailer to shower and change into some real clothes before I tried to figure out what the team wanted to do tonight.

The rock band Cheap Trick was playing the main arena after the race, which could be fun. Keith and Ray wanted to go, and Nick and Other James had never heard of them but were willing to tag along. I wanted to go to the Dunlop after-party, obviously, but I couldn’t interest them in it.

I took the team to the show, got them backstage so they could watch from the wings, then snuck away to the Dunlop suites. And there she was. As I headed out of the auditorium, I crossed under the tall tower and saw Summer stepping into a red Mustang convertible. She hadn’t seen me, so I jogged up to the car and talked to her through the open roof.

“So it was you?” I snapped. She jumped a little.

“Was me what?” she demanded. She had her hand on her heart, as I'd frightened her. Man, that amazing hair, those beautifully defined cheekbones. I felt like she grew more beautiful every time I saw her.

“It was you that cut me off this morning,” I said. “I nearly got sideswiped by a hot girl in a red Mustang spinning her wheels on the grass by the track entrance.”

“Sorry about that.” She smiled demurely, teasing me.

“Are you leaving?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I’m done with Donald,” she replied. She had those big sunglasses on, so I couldn’t quite tell where she was looking. But I felt like she was smiling at me. “He’s started on the scotch again, and I’m not interested in a repeat of last night.”

“I don’t know.” I gave her an exaggerated grin. “There was quite a lot of last night I would love to repeat.”

She smiled. Surprisingly, she seemed a touch bashful and turned away. Maybe she felt more for me than she was letting on?

“We agreed, I thought, that there would be no complications, no ties, and no apologies. That’s why I didn’t kiss you. I thought we were on the same page.”

“We were,” I explained, “but there was nothing in what you just said that means we can’t get a drink right now.”

She laughed at that. “That’s true enough.” I persuaded her to come back inside with me for a drink. She was guarded and adamant that she didn’t want to commit, but she seemed to like me, or at least the sex we’d had. I didn’t want to commit either. I didn’t. I definitely didn’t. I just couldn’t get her out of my head, and I couldn’t stop the feeling—the longing—to be with her again.





Summer



James opened the door for me and we headed back into the hospitality suite. In the half-light, I could make out waiters carrying trays between round, white-topped tables. I grabbed a couple of scotches from one as he passed and handed a glass to James, then sat down at a free table. He sat in the chair next to me, turning it to face me.

“Cards on the table,” he said with a smile. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I don’t care what you say; last night was probably the most amazing night of my life, and I think you are the most beautiful, sensual, sensational creature it has been my pleasure to…pleasure.”

That was quite a little speech. I could feel my face warming up and my pussy moistening. I hoped I wasn’t blushing too much. “I’m flattered,” I began, staring past him. “And believe me, last night was fantastic for me, too. But I don’t want to see you again. I mean, I do, but I don’t want a relationship. I’m not good at them. I don’t want to commit, and that always hurts the man I’m with, regardless of how much he says he wants the same thing in the beginning.” I looked at him—his sexy smile, his kind eyes, his strong jawline. “I like you. I do. Which is why I don’t want to hurt you.”