“I know,” he responds just as quietly. “But I also told you to let me know that you made it home.”
I look to the ground because it's true. I probably should have at least let him know that I was okay. But why is he only just coming here now to check on me?
“It's been two days. If you were that concerned, why didn't you come here sooner?”
“I couldn't.”
He simply couldn't? I have no idea what could keep someone away for a couple of days if they were concerned, but I guess he has his reasons.
“Secondly,” he continues. “I wanted to apologize about that night.” That has my gaze swinging back up to his face. “I was . . . I was fucked up over that stuff, and I'm sorry you had to see that. And I shouldn't have kissed you or reacted the way I did. You did nothing wrong, and I'm sorry.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I think about how to respond. I mean, yeah, I had been hurt and confused at the time. But he was also upset and drunk, and I can't assume to know what it's been like for him with that type of guilt sitting on his shoulders, whether it needs to be there or not.
I realize that I have no ill feelings toward him. I don't like holding a grudge. And to be honest, the thought of not seeing him again had left me feeling sad.
“It's okay. I get it,” I tell him finally. “You've gone through some stuff, and I can't imagine it's been easy.”
He sighs. “Still not an excuse for how I treated you. You've been nothing but great to me.”
I laugh lightly, looking to the side. “We're good. Really. We're okay.” Turning back to him, I can see the relief ease off of his shoulders as he nods, and then the corner of his lip tilts, giving that sexy half smirk that I love. “And I'm sorry I didn't let you know that I was home safely. Thanks for coming to check on me. But I should get back to lunch now.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder toward Ash. I feel bad for leaving him when he was clearly upset about his patient, and we're supposed to be having lunch together.
And yeah, maybe I don't want to seem like I'm still pining over him after that kiss and being rejected. I catch the smirk on Cam's face dropping as I turn around to walk back to the bench seat, and I don't make it very far before he's calling out.
“Come to the race tonight.”
I spin around. A frown etched between my brows. “What?”
He casts a glance over my shoulder and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “There's a race tonight. You should come. If you still want to, that is.”
I take one step back in his direction, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said it wasn't a good idea for me to go?”
“I know. I did. But if it's something you want to do, then it's not really up to me to say no.”
“Is that right?” I ask, cocking my head. “That's quite the change of tune, Cam.” His shoulders lift in a shrug in response. “Well, I don't finish until late tonight,” I inform him.
“The race isn't until one a.m,” he replies, holding my gaze.
I don't know why but the thought of going to an illegal race with Cam – at a ridiculous hour of the night, no less – excites me. It's thrilling. It's something so out of the ordinary for me, and it also feels like I'm getting a closer glimpse into Cam's life.
And in a way, I want to prove that Icando it. I can go to a race despite my parents' accident.
Plus, I actually have a day off tomorrow without being on call.
“I can pick you up,” he offers, trying to sweeten the deal.
I glance around the area, soaking in the sun and warm temperature, and then realize that today will be the last day I get to give Walter his weather report. I guess the distraction of what's to come tonight will be good for me.
“Alright then. I'll come.”
CHAPTER 18
JASMINE
We ride in silence to a part of the city I haven't been to before. Cam looks tense, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while he fists the stick shift with the other. I observe as the muscles in his forearms flex, and I find myself tracing the veins protruding from them and then continuing all the way up to the side of his face before looking away.
Although there's a delicious vanilla scent coming from the air freshener tree stuck in the vent, the air in here feels thick with tension. I don't know if this is what he's generally like before a race or whether it's because I'm coming along with him.
The inside of his car is mostly empty, with the bare minimum in accessories; no seats in the back and no carpet on the floor. I've never seen the inside of a race car before, so I'm not sure if this is the standard or not. Even the seats seem different than normal.
