Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Looking back now, I knew I’d been lonely these past few years. Somehow, my way of coping with that had been to work—all day, every day. Maybe I’d thought if I stayed busy enough, I wouldn’t notice my life was empty. But I’d definitely noticed.
Once we finished up in the kitchen, Tory took my hand and guided me to the couch. “We still have a couple of hours before we need to leave,” he said, as we curled up together. “I propose spending it being completely lazy.”
“Good plan.” I put my head on his chest and asked, “Are you ready to tell me where we’re going?”
“No, I still want to surprise you. But if we get there and you hate it, we don’t have to do it.”
“Can I have a hint?”
He grinned and said, “It’s something I think a Formula One crew member would appreciate.”
“Okay, but you know that was a lie.”
“Sure, but I have a theory that most lies contain grains of truth. We’ll see if I’m right.”
Later that day, I gasped in delight when we pulled up to a stunt driving school. “Is this what we’re doing? Please tell me it is,” I said, as I sat up straighter and looked around. A sleek, contemporary building sat at one end of a wide tarmac, and lined up in front of it were several shiny, bright red stock cars.
“It is. We have a private lesson with a professional stunt driver who’s going to teach us things like drifting, one-eighties, all the fun stuff. I personally want the chance to do a bunch of donuts.” He smiled at me as he drew circles in the air with his index finger.
We got out of the car, and I ran around it and grabbed him in a hug. As he lifted me off my feet, I exclaimed, “Thank you so much for this! I heard about this type of driving school years ago and always wanted to do it, but it wasn’t exactly in my budget.”
“I always wanted to do it too,” he said, as he put me down again, “but I never got around to it.”
“So, my story obviously influenced your decision to come here.”
“It did. Even if it was made up, it was clear to me that you like cars and motorsports.”
“I really do.” I grinned and said, “I almost told you I was in the circus. Good thing I changed it at the last minute, or we’d be spending the day hanging from a trapeze.” That made him chuckle.
Tory took my hand and led me into the building, where we were treated like VIPs. One person brought us bottles of fancy, imported water while another fitted us for matching red jumpsuits, helmets, gloves, and shoes.
After we changed in the locker room, a photographer took our picture in front of one of the cars. I noticed the interior was stripped down and had a full roll cage. That was a good reminder that this was the real deal, but I was far more excited than worried.
Over the next three hours, I got to live out a lifelong fantasy. We were taught several very fun maneuvers and got to take turns trying them out. Time flew by. The session ended with each of us getting to spin the car around in tight donuts, laughing like maniacs while the tires squealed and smoked on the asphalt.
When we finished, I hugged him and exclaimed, “That was so much fun! Thank you again, Tory.”
“Thanks for agreeing to do it with me.” He leaned back far enough to see my face, his dark eyes full of mischief behind his glasses. “This is going to be hard to top, but do you trust me to plan another adventure for us next Saturday?”
“Absolutely. I’m down for whatever you can dream up.”
After we changed back into our T-shirts and jeans, we were presented with the photos they’d taken, along with very nice duffle bags stuffed with souvenirs. I took a peek inside my bag and glimpsed a baseball cap, T-shirt, athletic jacket, and water bottle, all with the school’s name and logo. Clearly, Tory had bought us the most deluxe package possible, and I was overwhelmed by his generosity.
When we got back in his car, Tory said, “I did some research ahead of time, and I found a place we can go for drinks if you want.”
“Sounds great.”
We’d driven about an hour north for the class, and now he drove us to a pretty little town on the coast. When he pulled into a parking spot at the back of a compact, Spanish-style building, I asked, “Are you sure it’s okay to park here? The sign says it’s reserved.”
He grinned and said, “It’s reserved for us.”
The bar on the bottom level was crowded, but that wasn’t our destination. Instead, it turned out he’d reserved the second floor banquet room, which was meant for private parties.