#Junkie (GearShark #1)(73)
“I don’t have an image.”
“We’re going to fix that,” she declared as she pulled out clothes. “We need to go shopping.”
I drained the rest of my coffee and blanched. “Please, no.”
“Fine, then I’ll go shopping without you. You can try it all on when I get home.”
Well, it was better than going to the mall, so I agreed.
Ivy gasped and spun around to look at me. “I know! I’ll do a piece on racing-inspired looks. What to wear in the stands, out on the town, etc. It’s going to be awesome. The editor is going to love this!”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“I can even add some stuff about the new division and you! It will be extra press.” She gasped again.
“What now?” I asked.
“I can use you as a model on my YouTube channel for the racing segment. Double exposure.”
“No,” I said, flat.
“Yes,” she argued, absolutely stubborn. “It’s your job now. I have a lot of subscribers.”
“Fine, whatever,” I muttered. “Don’t spend too much on the clothes. I’m not a football player.”
She waved away my requests, and I knew that meant she’d do what she wanted.
Sisters.
“Here.” She tossed some clothes at me. “Put these on.”
When I didn’t start getting dressed, she glared at me. “Well?”
“You want me to get dressed in front of you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Like I’ve never seen you in your boxers.”
“Turn around.” I motioned. “I need some privacy.”
“You’re an idiot,” she said but turned anyway.
I grinned at the back of her blond head. I loved annoying her.
“Hey, Drew?”
I looked up because of the sound of her voice. She’d been quiet as I pulled on the jeans, and she was no longer teasing me or gasping with ideas.
Something was up.
“Yeah, Ives?” I asked as I threaded the black belt through the black jeans.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
“Ask,” I drawled. My sister could ask me anything. Aside from Trent, she was my favorite person on this earth. I’d do anything for her.
Even so, I was suddenly nervous.
“You said something to me a long time ago. Something that has weighed on me since.” She began.
I felt my brow wrinkle.
I grasped her wrist and turned her around gently (We were all gentle with my sister. She was the kind of girl that deserved gentleness). I still wasn’t wearing a shirt, but as she pointed out, it wasn’t like I never walked around without one. “What is it?”
“You said this place totally changed you.” She looked up, blue eyes concerned. “There was something about the way you said it… What did you mean?”
Ah, I remembered that day. The day she asked me if I was disappointed in her when she got pregnant with Nova. We’d had a talk that day in the kitchen. Those words had tumbled out in the moment, and I regretted them instantly. I wished I could take them back, but I couldn’t. Thankfully, we’d been interrupted and never finished the conversation. Life took over, and she never brought it up.
Until now.
I’d been talking about Trent. About the way he made me feel, even back then. About how moving here had opened up so many sides of me I’d buried or even left locked. Being here made me feel like I was actually embracing the real me. At times, it was scary as hell.
“This…” I began. “Racing, chasing my dreams, and not living the life Dad always pushed on me. It’s been freeing, you know?”
She studied me for a long moment. I wondered what she was thinking.
“Is that all?” she finally asked.
“What else would there be?”
“I’m not sure.” Her eyes never left my face. It made me uncomfortable. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Her voice was so genuine and sincere, the awkwardness I felt evaporated, and I felt bad for it being there at all. “Yeah, Ives, I know.”
She pushed up onto tiptoes and hugged me. I hugged her back as tight as I dared and held her for a few minutes. I wondered if she felt the pounding of my heart.
“I love you,” Ivy whispered. “No matter what.”
“I love you, too,” I echoed.
I swallowed past the lump suddenly lodged in my throat. It was almost like she was telling me. Saying she saw more than she let on, that she knew more than she said.
As if she somehow knew I was in love with Trent.
She loved me anyway.
Not one ounce of anything other than love came from my sister.
Something in me loosened a little. Kind of like a shoe that had been tied to tight and was finally unlaced.
I squeezed her just a little tighter before letting her go.
When she stepped back, she wiped her eye and smiled. “C’mon, we gotta get you dressed!”
I picked up some kind of vest I didn’t even know I owned, and she pulled it from my fingers. “The shirt first!”
I picked up a black T-shirt with long sleeves and put it on, taking care to tuck the speedometer necklace beneath the neck. Next, she handed me the black vest made of thick cotton that zipped up the front.