Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(91)
I shuddered at that and watched as Dovie looked up at him under her rust-colored eyelashes. She huffed a little and shifted her gaze to me.
“Don’t let him try and turn this into his fault, because he will.”
I nodded and told her, “Call me if you need anything.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I have what I need.” She curled farther into Bax as he guided her down the steps and off to that wicked chrome-and-black monster of a car he drove. I swore when he started it up the engine sounded like a million demons roaring for release from their prison underground.
I wasn’t in the mood to go to class, but I had no excuse to skip when I had already missed so many, so I went, and found myself checking my phone every five minutes. Each time it came up blank it made my heart hurt. I didn’t have to work that night, so I went back to the condo, helped Karsen with her homework, made a simple dinner, and texted Race no less than five times to see where he was and to find out how he was doing. All went unanswered. I was worried, but I was also starting to get pissed. I watched some stupid reality dating show with Karsen, gave myself a pedicure, and paced back and forth until midnight came and went. I stared at my phone and at the zero calls and zero messages and decided enough was enough. I had no doubt Race was at the garage, he was suffering alone, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.
I knocked on Karsen’s door and told her I was leaving for the night. She just gave me a knowing look and then went back to whatever she was doing on her phone. I think the poor thing had had enough of everyone else’s drama to last her well into her own adulthood.
I got to the garage and punched in the code on those steel security gates, relieved to see the Stingray in the spot where the Mustang used to sit. I opened the side door and practically ran up the metal steps into the loft. When I entered the big, open space I almost tripped over Race, who was sitting in the center of the floor, a half-empty bottle of Scotch in his hand, and his green eyes hot and glassy. I sank down to my knees next to him and took the bottle out of his hand.
“You promised to come home.”
His chest rose and fell and his tongue darted out to run along his lower lip. Even drunk and moody, he was the prettiest man I had ever seen. I reached out to cup his cheek in my palm and his eyes drifted shut and he turned to nuzzle into the touch.
“That ‘being there’ thing works both ways, handsome.”
“I feel like shit because I feel like shit.” His breath was high octane, but he wasn’t slurring, making me wonder how long he had been hitting the bottle. Maybe it had been an all-day event and he wasn’t really as inebriated as he seemed.
“What are you talking about?” I pulled the bottle out of his hand and ran my fingers through his hair. It always felt like gold silk.
“He wanted to kill Dovie. He was in Novak’s pocket. He cheated on my mom all the time and he cut me off without a thought. He was manipulative and so f*cking heartless. He deserved to die, I was going to let Bax kill him if it came to that . . . but now . . .” His head fell forward on his neck and I saw his shoulder hitch up and then drop. “I feel terrible.”
I rubbed the back of his neck and tried to get some of the tension out. “He was your dad. Of course you feel terrible. It doesn’t matter how awful he was, he was still your father. You’re allowed to be sad about it, but what you aren’t allowed to do is try and take responsibility for it.”
His head shot up and he looked at me as I scooted over him so that I was sitting on his lap. He put his hands on my waist and lifted both of his eyebrows up at me.
“What do you mean?”
“It isn’t your fault your dad turned on Novak’s guys to make a deal to save his own skin and it so isn’t your fault that Novak has more poison to spread around even though he’s long gone. Your dad ended up where he did because of his choices, not because of anything you did.”
He grunted and climbed to his feet, still holding me. Considering he didn’t stumble or stagger at all, I really doubted he was as drunk as I first thought.
“I know that, I just needed a minute and maybe you saying it out loud for it to sink in.” He headed to the foldout bed and tossed me in the center of it with far less finesse than he had been showing me since Drew’s attack. “And I was going to come home, I just had to sober up first and get my head back on straight. This is the kind of stuff that has no place there.”
Since he was standing at the edge of the bed looming over me, I reached up under his long-sleeved T-shirt and started to work it up over his always impressive torso. I would never get tired of seeing his abs flex and contract when I trailed my fingertips all along the dips and ridges.
“You’re wrong. I told you all along I want all of you; that includes this part of you. I get it, Race, you do what you have to do, not always what you want to do, but with me, that can’t be the case. I always have to be what you want to do, not what you have to do. You bring it home with you and we’ll battle through it together just like you told me.”
Since I had the top half of him naked, I decided I needed to get the rest of him that way as well. I reached for the button on his jeans and worked the zipper down, happy to see that even if he was feeling conflicted and melancholy, his always active sex drive wasn’t similarly affected. I worked my hands into the back of the fabric and gave his firm backside a squeeze while leering up at him.