Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10) by Shey Stahl Page A

he grabbed me by the arm and led me toward the elevators.
    “Hold on one minute. Don’t move.” Casten ran back to the vending machine and grabbed a couple of bags of Skittles and some chocolate bars. “Okay, let’s go.”
     

    “WHAT DID YOU do?” the barely eighteen-year-old doctor girl asked in the emergency room as I sat there with my knuckles splayed open.
    I stared blankly at the girl stitching up my hand. “Put my hand through a vending machine.”
    “Uh, why?”
    “Have you ever done stitches before?” I growled when she dug the needle in and practically hit the bone. “This isn’t home economics class. Pay attention.”
    “I’ve done plenty of stitches.”
    Sure she had.
    “Why did you punch a vending machine?”
    She seemed hell-bent on getting it out of me, so I said, “I wanted Skittles.”
    Her eyes darted from left to right, and then at me. “So put money in it.”
    “Why didn’t I think of that?”
    It took for-fucking-ever to have her stitch my hand up but thankfully, the time passed and the pager in my pocket alerted me Sway was in recovery, and I could see her.
    Though she was groggy, Sway perked up when I came through the curtain in the recovery area. Seeing her smile at me, even though it was obviously a drug-induced goofy smile, I could finally breathe again. She was here and she was going to be okay.
    “Look!” And there went the gown.
    That same nurse—the one I threatened bodily harm to—came back in as Sway was showing me her bandaged chest. You couldn’t see much, and I wasn’t too thrilled about her being so anxious to just whip them out, but damn, Sway seemed in a good mood so I let it go.

    “You gotta stop that. I don’t want everyone knowing what your tits look like,” Jameson said to me once the bandages were removed and I basically showed everyone who came in the room my new funbags.
    Rolling my eyes, I stared at the ice water with those little round ice cubes I loved so much. “I don’t see why it matters. They’re not real.”
    “I don’t fucking care. Stop doing it.” His aggravated tone drew my stare to his. “How would you like it if I showed everyone my dick?”
    “What… are you just gonna start whipping it out?”
    He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. “Maybe I will.”
    “Show me and let’s see.”
    Yep. I used his line on him.
    He surprised me when his reached for the button of his jeans. “Fine, I’ll start with you.” And then he literally showed me his crankshaft in the middle of the hospital room.
    Even with all of the pain medication they had me on, my body responded to seeing Jameson with his crankshaft standing at attention like it was saluting me.
    Unfortunately, Casten picked that exact moment to walk into my room.
    “Hey, Mom, I brought you…. Oh Jesus! Oh fuck!” He screamed in such a high pitch that someone walking by would have thought it was a thirteen-year-old girl instead of a twenty-four-year-old man.
    “Fuck, damn, fuck! I think I’m blind!” I couldn’t help but laugh because he was covering his eyes while trying to find his way out of the room. In the process he tripped over a chair and slammed into a wall.
    “Damn it, Dad! Put that thing away. This is not okay. I am never going to be okay.”
    Jameson stood in the middle of my room when Casten left staring at me like “did that just happen?”
    Staring at his camshaft, I couldn’t help myself. “He seems… scared? Did Casten scare him?”
    Of course my comment pissed off Jameson as he zipped his jeans. “Fuck off.”
    After he tucked everything back in place, I motioned for him to climb into bed with me. I had this overwhelming need to be close to him and it seemed even when he was right next to me, he was still too far away.
    Carefully snuggling into his side—the funbags were still pretty sore—I placed my hand over his heart. “I missed you,” I told him, trying to snuggle even tighter to his side. I couldn’t get close enough.
    “Missed