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“You said he kissed you back,” he points out.
I shake my head. “I think he was just lost in the moment. I mean,”—I sweep a hand in front of me—“Iamhot.”
He rolls his eyes and shoves my shoulder. “And totally modest.”
I laugh, my usual smirk coming back.
“Maybe he’ll come around and you can kiss him again.”
“I don’t think so.” I feel a wave of sadness at that, which I don’t fully understand. “He can’t stand me. Hates everything I stand for.”
“So show him the real you.”
I laugh caustically. “You know the real me and barely like me.”
“True,” he says but then nudges me with his hand on my shoulder. “Just try, Royal. You don’t always have to play the part. I’ve seen Soren’s posts. He’s starting to see you differently, and so is the rest of the world. Jenny’s evil plan is working.”
“To make me look like a pansy,” I say grimly.
“To show to world you aren’t the douchebag you want them to think you are. You can win races and be a badass without being an asshole.”
“I’m not so sure that’s true.”
He smiles and wraps one arm around me. “I am. Just try, Royal. For the first time in your life, allow yourself to be happy.”
I hate him at this moment.
To the outside world, I’m happy and confident, even if I do seem like an arrogant asshole. They think I’m happy that way.
Only a handful of people know the absolute truth...
That I’m not happy. That it takes work every single day to appear that way, and when the mask comes off and I’m alone, that’s when I’m the real me.
That’s when I allow myself to be weak.
To be sad.
To be scared.
And if Soren sees that, how could he possibly be attracted to me?
CHAPTER15
SOREN
The absolute last person I expect to see when I open my front door is Royal, but here he is, looking almost nervous. He puffs out a heavy breath, the cold air making it visible.
It’s cooled considerably in Kansas City over the weekend. And while it’s not freezing yet, it’s pretty damn cold, so he’s dressed in a black hoodie and jeans. “Royal?”
“Hey.” He’s careful, his eyes not really meeting mine. It’s early, but I didn’t think he would be back yet after the race yesterday. “Um, nice house.”
I nearly laugh because, while my house is nice, it’s nothing like his. It’s a small three-bedroom, two-bath, very typical of the suburbs kind of home, and truthfully, I love it. Even though I’m not here as often as I’d like to be. “Thank you. Do you want to come in?”
He must have gotten my address from Jenny, which doesn’t bug me as much as it probably should. Lord knows the woman has questionable boundaries. But if he’s here, he must need to talk.
And God help me, I want to be here for him.
I felt bad I couldn’t be at his last race of the season, even though he didn’t invite me, and Jenny didn’t ask. I think she thinks we have enough of the racing side of him and has encouraged me to find the human side during the off-season.
