Page 58 of Battle Scars

“Mom—”

“No buts,” she interrupted me. “Take the risk. This man is worth it.”

“He doesn’t want me.” Voicing my own insecurities did not feel good, but it needed to be said.

“That man wants you,” she replied. “He’s just not sure if he can let himself.”

“Mom—”

“Trust me.”

“I do.”

“Take the leap.”

“Okay.”

“It’s going to hurt,” she warned. “But it’ll be worth it.”

She kissed my cheek and let me go.

Gabe was waiting at the passenger door for me and pulled it open. I climbed in, and he closed the door behind me before walking around the hood to climb into the driver seat.

He didn’t ask me about the whispered conversation with my mom on the porch, though I knew he was watching. The ten-minute ride back to my house passed in silence.

I was confused, now more than ever. Should I take the risk and reach for what I want—or really who I want? Do it all knowing Gabe was going to hurt me? I knew the answer should be a resounding no, but Mom’s words echoed in my thoughts. It’ll be worth it.

Before I knew it, he was pulling into my driveway. He parked, and I waited at the door while he checked the house. Once he said it was clear, I planned to hightail it to my bedroom to soak in my tub and take a long nap. I needed to get my thoughts in order, and I couldn’t do that if I was letting the man in question have his wicked way with me. His cock, while impressive, seemed to muddle my thoughts, but like all of my best laid plans, these were dashed when he stopped me by the stairs, his hand heavy on my arm.

“Gabe?”

“Not yet,” he said quietly as he turned me to face him. His face was soft, and his eyes were hungry.

“I’m tired.”

“Then I’ll go slow,” he said as he scooped me up and carried me up the stairs. “And I’ll do all the work.”

I opened my mouth to make an excuse, and he pressed his lips to mine, gently licking into my mouth and making me burn for him.

So much for a night to think.

He carried me down the hall and laid me out on my bed. He undressed me with care, treating me delicately, like I was precious and special. Gabe covered me with his body after stripping off his own clothes, and then he made good on his promises; he fucked me slow and did all the work.

It wasn’t until this morning, when I woke up all alone in my big bed, the sheets on his side cold and empty, that I realized he didn’t fuck me at all. He made love to me like I mattered, and in the end, he still left, so what did it even matter anyway?

I got up and showered. I braided my hair down my back and dressed in my usual workout shorts, sports bra, and tank. I brushed my teeth and made my way downstairs to see Gabe dressed and waiting for me. He looked so handsome, standing in my kitchen with a cup of coffee half raised to his lips. He almost looked as if he belonged there, but he was removed enough to remind me that would forever remain impossible, and it broke my fucking heart.

My mom said it would hurt, and she was not wrong about that.

I need to get my head on straight while I’m on the track. Distractions at this speed lead to accidents and tragedy. My family lost my grandfather in a crash, and countless friends in race-related accidents. I don’t need to add myself to the list of those they mourn.

I don’t quite execute my plan as thoroughly as I should, which is how I end up barreling around the track at breakneck speeds, hoping to clear my head.

Spoiler alert: it’s not working.

My speaker crackles to life, shaking me free from my thoughts. “We have lightning within three miles. Please leave the track.”

Honestly, it’s probably a blessing, because I’m being an irresponsible idiot and doing it out in the open for all to see. I should go lick my wounds with a fresh bag of watermelon candy and maybe a little crying and screaming in the ladies’ room. Who knows? At this point, anything could be cathartic when purging a man like Gabriel Navarro.