Free Crossing the Line (Hard Driving) by Audra North Page B

his knee and breathless almost-kisses.
    It’s for the best. You have to keep it under control, remember?
    But then he added, “Besides, I’d really like to see you again.”
    Oh. There it was. The flirting. She could hear the seduction in his voice, and despite whatever logical protests her brain had thrown up about why this was a bad idea, she felt her knees and her will go weak at the sound of that smooth, suggestive sound.
    “Me, too,” she sighed.
Oh, great.
Had she just implied that she wanted to see herself again? She sounded like an idiot. “That is . . .
I’d
like to see
you
again.”
    He didn’t seem to notice her flub, though. “Good. So what are you doing on Saturday night?”
    Her heart started beating faster. “This Saturday?” There was no race this Saturday.
    His laugh made her blush. “Yeah. I was thinking I could fly up around six o’clock and we could go somewhere quiet. Maybe grab an early dinner and talk.”
    Fly up?
Just for dinner? Was that a romantic gesture, or did athletes do this kind of thing all the time?
    Goodness, she was out of her element. But she tried to play it cool, and asked playfully, “Is
that
what they’re calling it these days?”
    Smooth, Bellowes.
She immediately wanted to kick herself for saying such a thing. It was too forward. Too suggestive. But she’d been thinking about his eyes and his lips and his
knee
and
that bed
for what felt like years—
    “No . . . but I’d like to actually kiss you this time, if that’s what you mean.”
    She nearly choked on her own spit. “I, uh . . .”
    She needed to stop this right now.
    On the other hand . . . it was just dinner. And a kiss. One little kiss wouldn’t hurt anything, right? It wasn’t sex. It wouldn’t go
that
far.
    She took a deep breath and managed to respond with “I’d like that, too.”
    “Yeah?” She could hear his excitement, which matched her own. “Then what do you say? Saturday?”
    “O-Okay.” The moment the word left her, she felt her anticipation grow exponentially, almost like she’d just agreed to something more than just a date.
    No. Not a date. Just two semiprofessional people meeting up for dinner and a kiss. Friendly acquaintances kissed all the time, right?
    “Only thing is . . .” He sounded uncomfortable.
    “You want to keep it under wraps.” She knew it already. Given the PR mess he was in right now, being seen with a reporter under questionable circumstances wasn’t ideal.
    Which worked out perfectly for her.
    “Exactly.” This time, his tone was relieved. “I knew you’d understand. I’m sorry I’m asking you to keep a secret, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
    Too late. Too late to all of it.
    But she made herself reply, “It’s okay. I do understand.” She gave him her address.
    “Great. Thank you, Cori. I can’t wait. I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”
    “Yes. Saturday,” she confirmed, but she squeezed her eyes shut as she said it, as though shutting out the truth made it easier to bear.
    * * *
    Ty woke up the next morning feeling like he’d swept all the races in the season. He’d done it. He’d asked out Cori, and he was going to see her this weekend.
    He pulled on a pair of sweats and headed downstairs, hoping to get in a short workout before he had to get out to the garage. Like the other drivers, he tried to stay in shape so that he could last through the grueling conditions of a two-hour race, but not bulk up too much so that he would still ride light and lean in the car. It was a little tougher for him, being on the taller side, but he managed. He envied guys like Kolchek, who was a couple of inches shorter than Ty’s mom.
    Racing was one of the few sports where being small was an advantage. And as much as folks liked to poke fun at short guys, Kolchek had women practically throwing themselves at him wherever he went, even though he was maybe five-foot-four on a good day. Too bad Kolchek was a total asshole when it came to