Pushing the gas I felt the familiar purr of the engine. I’d driven this car more times that I could count. I knew it well. Creeping up in speed, I was still on the straightaway. The bleachers were breezing by, but I had tunnel vision. Shifting, I kicked it up a notch. I was creeping up to 90 MPH just as I was hitting the first corner. Annabelle’s hand came up and she was about touch my forearm, when I downshifted and slowed before turning the wheel. She dropped her hand into her lap. I wanted to look at her and tell her it was okay, I was going to keep her safe, but I had to keep my eyes on the track. These cars were unpredictable. I would have spoken to her, but the engine was too loud.
We took both corners at about the same speed. The second one, she kept her arm down and gave me the trust I was silently asking for. I’d only hoped she was enjoying herself just a little bit. As I hit the end of my first lap, I was ready to open it up. I wanted to feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I knew it was probably not the wisest choice to give it what I normally did, because I knew she was already on edge. If I wanted Annabelle to feel comfortable, I’d need to take it easy. When I started the second lap, I pushed on the throttle harder than the first time. I let the speedometer creep up to 100 MPH. Even at this speed, you can feel the force of the G’s pushing you back into your seat. Instead of bringing it down to a comfortable speed for her when I got to the curve, I only downshifted once, and kept up the momentum. Surprisingly, she didn’t freak. Maybe she was okay with this after all. I continued on the track and at the end of the lap, I came to a complete stop in the pit. The crew immediately began fueling the car back up, and checking tire pressure. I looked over at Annabelle, and she was staring at me with such wonder in her eyes. Never had a woman looked at me like this.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
She didn’t answer right away. It was like she was trying to find her words. “I’ve never gone that fast before.”
“It’s a different feeling isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Would you like to drive? I can teach you.” I wanted her to so bad. I wanted to see her let loose and mesh with the car. It would have been the biggest turn on. But I could see her answer already.
“No, I’m okay. I don’t know how to drive a stick and I’m sure they don’t want to replace the transmission on this thing if you try to teach me. I’d rather just sit and feel if that’s okay?” She hesitated, expecting me to push her into changing her mind. I wasn’t.
“That’s fine.” I smiled to offer reassurance. When she smiled back, the feeling that shot through me was incredible. I wanted to make her happy. I’d never given two shits about other women I dated, it was always about making them make me happy. But that smile she gave me, my God, it could light up a room.
We ended up going around the track about ten more times before calling it quits. I pushed the car and her comfort level to about 140 MPH before Annabelle, did in fact reach over and touch me. She’d had enough and I’d maxed out her level of comfort. I was fine with that. After we’d taken off the suits and we were walking back out to my car, I grabbed her hand. Rubbing my thumb back and forth over the smooth skin on her wrist, she was as soft as I’d imagined. Getting her settled in, we drove the whole way to her house in silence. The only thing I asked was if she wanted something to eat. She said she wasn’t hungry, and I knew what she meant. It was almost as if both of us were trying to take in the evening we’d just had. As soon as we arrived at her house, I helped her out and walked her to her door.
“I hope you had a good time,” I said uneasily.
“Mhmm, I did.” She glanced down shyly.
“I’d like to take you out again, if that’s okay.”
She pondered it for a moment and then said, “I’d like that.”
There was no stopping the smile that spread across my face. “Alright then. I’ll be in touch. I need to think about where I want to take you next.”
Her eyes got big. “No more dare devil stuff.” She laughed. “Not sure my poor heart can take it.”
“Did you get hurt today?”
She was confused. “Well . . . no, but . . .”
I cut her off. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I’ve got the next date set up. And Annabelle . . . it will be fun.”
She sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to win. “I’ll wait for the call then.”
Leaning forward, I tenderly kissed her cheek. The scent of cotton candy was lingering on her skin. I heard her small gasp and I wanted to kiss her on the mouth, but some things were better waited on. Next date, I was going to take what I wanted.
“Goodnight, Annabelle. Thank you for a good evening.”
“Goodnight, Turner.” She twisted in her cute little tennis shoes and went into the house.
She’s different. I’ll give her that much. I was very intrigued by her. I was going to need to think of something that I could do with her, something that we could actually sit and have conversation. Unfortunately, the race car was too loud for either of us to hear the other person. This was going to take some thought on my part. I wanted to break her out of her shell and see what she was made of, but I could tell it was going to be a process. Annabelle was my new project, and I was looking forward to seeing who she really was.
I WAS STANDING OUT IN FRONT of the PAWS animal shelter waiting for Camden and Keegan to show up. They were thinking about adopting a dog. Keegan had called and asked if I wanted to join them and maybe get lunch afterwards. I reluctantly agreed. My date with Turner was almost two weeks ago and I had kind of kept to myself since. I had a feeling she wanted to pry and find out what happened. Why couldn’t she just ask Turner? I’m sure he’d tell Camden if he asked. Keegan had called the day after, but I was still processing the fact that I had actually enjoyed myself.
Speaking of, they pulled up a couple minutes after I’d parked. Getting out of their car, Keegan looked like she was still glowing from her wedding day.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning back.” I smiled at her.
Camden stepped beside me and nodded. Such a conversationalist.
“Alright, let’s do this.” She rubbed her hands together. “And, for the love of God, I am going into the cat room whether you like it or not.” She fixed him with a pointed stare.
He flung his hands in the air. “Fine, we’ll go into the cat room. But don’t get pissy with me when I walk out sneezing or my eyes are itchy.”
She leaned in and kissed him sweetly. “You’ll be fine. But thank you.”
“Welcome,” he grumbled.
As we walked in she whispered to me, “He says he’s super allergic to cats, but I have yet to see a reaction from him when we’ve been somewhere with a cat.”