Pedal to the Metal

Chapter 3

Meg

I wasn't expecting anyone to sneak up on me and the sexy rumble of his voice caught me off guard. I squealed as elegantly as I could with a hot dog in my mouth. A piece broke off and lodged in my throat so I started banging on my chest.

Fuck, if I die today don't let them write that my cause of death is a hot dog on my tombstone.

My food fell to the ground as my hands went to my throat. I was choking. I couldn't breathe, and I was starting to panic.

I felt arms wrap around my waist and pump into my stomach hard. Once, twice, three times and a hard smack on the back and the processed food dislodged from my throat and I spit it across the pavement. I gulped down the air in heavy breaths and braced my hands on my knees. My eyes were watering and my throat was sore.

Feet appeared in my vision and knees came next. Whoever this man was he was squatting in front of me but he was so tall I couldn't see him without nearly breaking my neck. His thumb tilted my chin up and I gasped.

Jude Reynolds.

He was wearing his racing suit with the top half off and tied around his waist. He had on a white shirt underneath and a ball cap with his sponsor's logos on them. The edges of his raven colored hair were peeking through the edges. His blue eyes cut deep into my soul and he had a bit of stubble on his chin that brought out the definition in his jaw line. He was handsome. No, that didn't even cut it. The tabloids were right to name him July's Sexiest Bachelor. His brows furrowed and it was then I realized he had been speaking to me.

“W-What?” I asked.

“Are you alright?” he asked and his voice was just as deep as it was before. His hand was gripping my shoulder now and I looked at the tanned skin there. His arms were thick and I could see a vein bulging just underneath the skin. Why was I such a sucker for nice arms? Oh, he asked me a question.

“I'm okay.” I whispered and he took me in as if not believing my words. We were attracting a crowd and he helped me stand up and find a seat.

“Do you need a paramedic?” he asked and I shook my head. My camera strap rubbing against my skin.

“My Camera!” I shouted and reached for one of my most prized possessions. I checked it over frantically as if this device was my second child. In a sense it was. There was no damage that I could see and I don't think it hit anything or fell to the floor. Not even a speck of cheese sauce. I eyed the fallen hot dog with narrowed eyes.

“Tell me why I still want you so bad when you almost killed me?” I whispered to no one but myself but Jude just chuckled. I had never met the man but I keep up with racing and have seen him in the tabloids especially working for Sports Illustrated. He really was too good looking for his own good.

“I'm sorry but I would think a hot dog would be the last thing on your mind right now.” he joked and I glared at him.

“That hot dog was fantastic. If it wasn't for YOU I wouldn't have gotten spooked and choked on it. I blame you. And now it's wasted. Such a good wienie...” Sometimes I let my inner child come out and I don't know why I do that. I'm pretty sure I may have said too much and scared him off even though I don't know why scaring him off would be a bad thing. Wait, why is he talking to me anyways? He was laughing and holding his stomach.

“Who even are you?” he asked breathlessly. He didn't mean it as an insult. His eyes sparkled with amusement as if I was a breath of fresh air for him. I didn't want to be his breath of fresh air. I wanted my hot dog.

“I'll buy you a new one. I wasn't trying to scare you as for why I'm even talking to you, I'm trying to avoid the press. I hate reporters and I hate press conferences. I avoid them at all costs.”

“And how do you know I'm not a reporter?” I asked and he shrugged.

“For one, I've never seen you around. Two just a hunch I've never met a reporter more interested in meat than a good chance at a story.” I glared at him again for the pop shot he just sent me and he smirked. He nodded his head at something behind me and another hot dog was set in front of me at the table Jude had sat me at.

“I'm Jude.” he said and I rolled my eyes.

“I know who you are, pretty boy. I'm pretty sure everyone here knows who you are.”

“Oh, you think I'm pretty?”

I rolled my eyes and said. “Yes. I think you're pretty and so does every other woman here and you know it too.” He huffed when I brought up a subtle reminder of his playboy status and it became awkward.

“I'm Meg. Thank you for saving me, even though you're the reason I needed saving to begin with” He smiled and it sent butterflies to my stomach. He was handsome when he scowled but he was downright delicious with a smile on his face. His teeth were perfectly straight and shiny white.

“Well, I've got work to do. Nice to meet you, Jude.” He looked like he wanted to say something and stop me but I wasn't going to stick around. I knew his game. I knew most big athletes' games. Get a girl's number, flirt, take her home, add her as a notch in the bedpost and move on. Not interested. Not interested in anything more either. Heck, my divorce was just finalized today.

The sun was high in the sky and there were cars on the track burning rubber and finding where they stood on the starting line for qualifying. I could smell the foods from outside the stadium and the tailgaters. There were trailers selling souvenirs lining the pavement, stalls selling goods, beer, snacks, foods. There was face painting, game tents, and so, so, so many cars.

I made sure to take a few pictures with my phone for Beckett and then got to work with my trusty camera. The lens shuttering was music to my ears. I got pictures of qualifying, pit crews working, I got shots of the drivers doing checks on their cars. I even took some pictures of fans throughout. The magazine would pick which shots to use and which ones not to. I made sure to bring a few back up memory cards just in case I ran out of space. I didn't run into Jude anymore before the race started. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled my senses and it was aphrodisiac. I'm weird, okay?

The green flag waved and the rumble of the engines filled the stands as they took off. I grabbed the chain link fence next to the pit row and stared in awe at the cars but then I remembered I was not there for fun. I'm here for work.

I got some shots of the pit crews and their tablets as they monitored the driver and the car. I got shots of the car as they zoomed by. I even got a shot of Jude's car sliding into first place. It was my most clear shot. The black and mint green number 38 car was controlling the field. He was precise in his movements, his car was fast and like a sleek panther chasing its prey.

The crowd was going wild, and fans were screaming their praises and anger at all of the drivers. Cars were starting to make their first pitstop and I used the opportunity to snap some pictures in action. I don't know why but I was by Jude's pit box and as his car stopped it was like his eyes immediately found mine. He had a helmet on and a visor so nothing was completely visible but I just knew his gaze was on me. I blushed and looked away for another target to capture but the feeling never went away.

I needed to stay away from him. If I didn't, I would be in trouble. Big, big trouble.