#Swag (GearShark #3) by Cambria Hebert Page A

can’t hack it in the pros. She thinks it’s going to be easier in the NRR.” He sat forward. I was so mad my entire body had gone rigid. Our eyes warred with one another, and not the kind of war that felt good. “Guess what, sweetheart?” he murmured. “The NRR is harder than the pros. No rules racing ain’t for girls.”
    Slowly, I pushed up out of my chair.
    Emily watched me warily as I moved stiffly. “Thank you for having me. I do appreciate the opportunity to speak, however briefly, on women in sports. More specifically, women in racing.”
    “We aren’t done,” she said, alarmed.
    “Oh, I am,” I said, no room in my voice for argument. “Besides,” I added, “I think you wanted to finish the majority of your interview in private.” I leaned forward toward her to whisper loudly, “You know, so you can offer to blow him inside that fast car of his.”
    Her mouth formed a little O.
    I rolled my eyes and straightened.
    Lorhaven was sitting there still sprawled out like he was some kind of racing king. The smirk on his face pissed me off even more.
    Without another word, I brought my leg up and slammed the heel of my shoe down on his toe.
    He howled, his relaxed posture going rigid.
    “What the fuck!” he yelled.
    Everyone on set stopped and glanced our way. Somewhere close by, I heard Hopper sigh insufferably.
    He started it.
    “That’s for calling me sweetheart,” I intoned. Then I slapped him across the face.
    The sharp, high-pitched sound was like music to my ears.
    His nostrils flared as he worked his jaw where I’d just hammered him. My hand stung, so I hoped like hell it hurt.
    “And that,” I said, “was for saying I can’t hack it.”
    I turned and strode away.
    I heard him leap up and his footsteps pound behind me. I kept going. I didn’t even glance back.
    “Joey,” he growled.
    I kept walking.
    Drew and Trent appeared. I didn’t let myself look at them too close. I was afraid I’d cry.
    You know when you get so filled with anger and humiliation all that’s left are tears?
    I was there right then.
    There was no way in hell I’d let any of these people see me cry.
    “Move,” Lorhaven demanded.
    Drew’s voice rumbled a low reply.
    “Joey?” Hopper called. “What did he say?”
    “The truth,” Lorhaven spat from behind. “All I said was the truth!”
    “Just let me go.” I urged Hopper, my voice very low so only he could hear. I got maybe a few more steps before I was stopped again.
    “Hey…” A familiar hand wrapped around my wrist. I looked up. Trent gazed down at me. The restraint I had on my tears began to stretch thin. “Talk to me,” he implored.
    “I can’t right now,” I said, clinging to my composure.
    “Want me to beat his ass?” he offered, but it was said without humor. Trent would totally kick Lorhaven’s ass.
    But I fought my own battles. I shook my head. “I have to go. I have to drive.”
    He released my arm and stepped back. “Go. We’ll catch a ride with Arrow. See you at home.”
    “Thank you,” I whispered. Damn my watery voice.
    The Skyline’s engine fired right up. I tore out of the lot without looking back.
    I had a momentary lapse in judgement that hurt more than I cared to admit. There was no Jace inside Lorhaven. He’d probably used that line one hundred times. Hell, everyone on his turf, all the women, probably called him Jace.
    He was just like all the others in this sport.
    To him, I was nothing but a game.

 
    Lorhaven
    Third place.
    Know what that is in racing?
    Loser.
    I was pretty fucking livid with myself. I knew I’d have a time behind Drew’s ass, but I planned to give him a wedgie the whole go around the track.
    Instead, I gave him a wedgie about eighty percent of the race. Then the other twenty, I was busy getting my ass beat.
    My first fucking official race with the NRR, and I came in third.
    I was embarrassed.
    Off my game.
    It was all her fault.
    During the day, my cheek still echoed with the force of her slap,