Although the man continued to listen and seemingly pay attention, it was obvious I’d interrupted him. It didn’t matter, because now that I’d done what I was supposed to, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

The last thing I wanted was to see him.

“Well,” I began, smiling and sliding my purse over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll be going.”

He nodded and replied, “You know the way back?”

“Yes, I do.”

Just then, he pulled the folder out from beneath his arm and tossed it on top of a nearby tool cabinet.

“You’ll excuse me for not showing you out then?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, absolutely. I understand. I’ll be going.”

With that, he turned his back to me and resumed whatever it was he was working on when I’d showed up minutes earlier.

I started to walk away, retracing my steps from earlier. However, in the time since I’d entered the pit area, a large semi tractor-trailer had pulled in and blocked my original path. Scanning my surroundings for an alternate way out, I spotted a familiar face.

Less than thirty feet away, Dyson hovered over the top of a car, discussing something with another man. He stood there with his racing suit tugged down around his waist. For the second time in one day I got an eyeful of his muscular upper body.

Unlike before in the clinical setting of the exam room, this time with a day’s worth of effort smeared across his broad shoulders and thick pecs. My mouth drifted open a bit as I stared at him. A skin tight t-shirt clung against his chest, covered in a mix of grease and sweat. Without thinking, I slid my tongue across my lips and then, to my horror, he looked straight at me.

Shit.

Immediately, I swallowed hard and looked away, now frantic to find another way out. I began to walk as fast as I could, weaving in and out among every imaginable car part and mechanic in my path.

“Hey! Ava!” I heard him call out, as I continued to walk. “Wait up!”

Jesus, was all this crap scattered everywhere like this when I walked in?

At last, I saw a way I recognized and turned towards it as fast as I could. And I’d nearly, almost, gotten out of there, when all of a sudden I felt a strong set of fingers slide around my upper arm.

I spun in place and turned to see Dyson standing in front of me.

“Why did you grab me?” I said, tugging my arm away from him.

Dyson wrinkled his brow.

“You wouldn’t stop. What choice did I have?”

I snapped my arms across my chest, closing myself off from him. “Well, did you ever stop to think that I might not want to talk to you?”

He smiled as I stood there, waiting for him to answer me.

“Why are you smiling? Do you think this is funny?”

“A little, yeah. I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

With that, I showed him my back and started to walk away again. Unfazed by my show of disgust, he kept pace, walking alongside and annoying me further.

“Go away,” I groaned, glancing in his direction while I continued.

While I hurried along, nearly tripping twice in the process, Dyson walked at an almost leisurely pace. I got a passing whiff of him. He smelled of grease and fuel and sweat. Ordinarily, that is a mix that would send me running the other direction.

Somehow, it only made him more appealing.

Crap.

“What’s the rush? Hey, why don’t you let me give you a tour?”

“No,” I said, quickening my step. “I’ve got to go home.”

“No problem. Why don’t you give me a tour of Austin later on? We can go out, grab some grub…”

I shook my head and stopped. Turning towards him, I squeezed the strap of my purse in the palm of my hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding right now. Why would I want to go anywhere with you?”

Dyson chuckled a bit but didn’t reply.

I exhaled and continued, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re really not my type.”

“What do you mean? Drivers?”

He really wasn’t getting this.

However, I suppose when you look like he does and do the kind of thing he does for a living, it’s not often women turn him down.

Well, if nothing else, this was about to be a lesson for him.

“No, I don’t mean drivers,” I began, crossing my arms and glaring at him. “I mean womanizers.”

“Ah, I see,” he replied, leaning his upper body against a nearby wall. “It takes two, you know. I don’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to.”

Dyson hooked his thumbs inside the front of his fire suit as he lingered there, looking at me for a moment. The way his eyes traced my figure, he’d only proved my point. I’d never been around anyone so… cocky.

“I’m sure that you don’t force anyone. But, the fact remains that I’m just not interested. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I’ve got to get going.”

He nodded his head. “Okay, Ava. No problem.”

“Thank you,” I began. Feeling suddenly like maybe I’d been a bit rude, I added, “Good luck with your race.”

“Appreciate it.”

I smiled at him for a moment and then began to walk away, thankful I’d managed to get myself out of the situation.

“Hey,” he called out before I’d gotten not more six feet away. “How would you like to come out tomorrow? Before qualifying starts. You can get a ‘behind the scenes’ tour. I’ll be your guide. No charge.”

I paused and looked at him. “Dyson, really I’m not…”

He raised his hand, gesturing for me to stop speaking. “You can bring anyone you want. No pressure. I think you’ll have a good time, that’s it.”

It was a shame that such a lousy personality was wrapped in such a pretty package. Chewing the inside of my mouth for a moment, I considered his proposition. I thought of my nephew, Simon. It wasn’t very often we got to do many fun things for free. I figured even if we came back, I could keep my distance from Dyson, while giving Simon a chance to do something special.

“Okay,” I replied, hoping I hadn’t made a big mistake. “When is qualifying?”

“Saturday,” he said, “Come out in the morning. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

AVA

After leaving the race track and battling the grind of afternoon traffic, I arrived back at the apartment I shared with my nephew and my best friend, Jillian.

She worked from home as a freelance web designer and graphic artist, which was a good thing, because it meant I never had to worry about Simon after school. Even though he was a good kid and rarely misbehaved, having Jillian there in the years since Simon came to live with me was a blessing in more ways than one.

“I’m home!” I called out, walking inside and closing the door behind me.

Afterward, I made my way towards Simon’s bedroom. Arriving there a few seconds later, I saw him sitting on his bed, eyes glued to his tablet.

“Hi, Simon.”

Clearly preoccupied, he didn’t respond.

“Hi,” I said again, raising my voice. “Simon!”

His big brown eyes darted up at me for a second. He smiled. “Hey.”

“Have you finished your homework?”

He’d already returned to the excitement of his game. He grunted and nodded at the same time. “Mmm hmm.”

“All right. Where’s Aunt Jillian? I need to talk to her.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, dinner will be ready in a couple of hours.”

Before I turned to walk away, he nodded, but like before, didn’t bother to look up. I spun in place and made my way down the hall towards Jillian’s bedroom. Knocking on the door, I poked my head inside.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Jillian emerged from her bathroom with her robe on and a towel wrapped around her head. “Just got out of the shower. You’re home early. What’s up?”

I spent the next fifteen minutes or so telling her everything that happened. Everything about him was larger-than-life. Drop dead gorgeous looks, over-the-top come-ons and let’s not forget having sex in the exam room with two Russian girls who looked like supermodels! And then, after all that, my roommate and best friend for the last thirteen years of my life only had one question.