Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded.
“Man, I’m sorry. That’s sucks.”
“Yep.”
“You must be devastated.”
“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.” It seemed he was getting really good at lying, because Evan’s sympathetic expression disappeared.
“Really? You’re not torn up?”
“No, not at all. It was a mistake in the first place.” Pride was a funny thing. Ty couldn’t even believe he managed to eek those words out between his lips, but for the sake of his pride, he did just that.
“Oh, okay. So you wouldn’t be upset if I asked her out? I’ve got a thing for brunettes.”
One minute Ty was standing upright, keeping his cool with Evan.
Then the next Evan was on the ground and Ty was on top of him.
He couldn’t explain it. Nor could he explain his hands gripping the front of Evan’s racing suit.
But everything had gone black and buzzing, and it had seemed that the only thing to do was to pound Evan into the asphalt so then maybe he wouldn’t feel so damn lousy.
Even as he gripped Evan’s jacket, he suspected he was wrong on that count, too.
Yep, every day had sucked just a little bit more and he just might have reached the height of suckiness.
RYDER called Suzanne, still stunned by Ty’s behavior.
“Suz, turn on the sports channel,” he told her.
“What? Why?”
“Ty just jumped Evan Monroe at qualifying and a camera caught it. They’re rolling it over and over.”
“What! That’s insane. Ty never loses his temper.”
That’s what Ryder would have said, too. Flopping down on his couch, he kicked off his shoes. “It seems that Evan asked Ty if he would mind if Evan asked Imogen out now that they’re broken up.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. Big fat uh-oh. I understand getting pissed, but my God, he went after him. At the track! In the last week of the season. It’s a PR nightmare. The man has lost his mind.”
“I’m watching it right now,” Suzanne said. “You’re right. He’s officially one hundred percent lost his mind.”
“Look, you know I’ve never been big on interfering in other people’s lives, but Ty is a mess and I can’t stand back and do nothing. We need to at least try to get him and Imogen to talk to each other and work this out. Or at least get some closure.”
“I agree.” Suzanne paused, then gave a small laugh. “Holy shit. We agree on something.”
Ryder smiled. “It happens sometimes.”
“Alright, so I think a dinner party is a bad idea. At this point, we pretty much just need to throw them in a room together and lock the door. I can’t do it early in the week, I have appointments. How does Friday sound?”
“That will work. Ty is going to have a shitty week with all the backlash from this stunt. He’ll need a beer by Friday.”
“Keep him at your place. I’ll take Imogen out and make up some stupid thing about stopping by your house for paperwork.”
“Got it.” Ryder hesitated. “Thanks, Suz. You’re a good friend.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t suck either,” she said.
Ryder laughed. That was Suzanne.
IMOGEN was staring at her computer, trying to find the right wording to submit her letter of withdrawal for her thesis project when there was a pounding on her front door. She debated ignoring it but then her cell phone buzzed with a text. It was from Suzanne.
I’m at the front door. Answer it.
Sighing, Imogen went to hit Save on her document then realized she hadn’t actually written anything so there was no point. Trudging to her door, she glanced down at her PJ pants. Good thing it was just Suzanne. She had been having something of a drawn-out pity party for the last two weeks and dressing hadn’t been a top priority on her day off.
“Hey,” she said. “How are you?”
Suzanne bustled into the living room. “Where’s your remote? You have to see Ty on TV.”
Did she have to? “No, thanks.” It was possible her wounds from their fight were finally starting to scab over, so she didn’t want to tear them open to bleed again by seeing him smiling on camera at the racetrack.
“I’m not giving you a choice. You have to see this. Ty has lost his mind.” Suzanne dug around on the coffee table until she found the remote and clicked the TV on. She surfed until she found the sports channel. “Come on . . . show it again.”
Despite her wariness, Suzanne’s agitated manner drew Imogen’s attention to the screen. They were discussing football.
“Shoot, I should have recorded it.”
“What?” she asked, bewildered.
“Wait! Here it is.” Suzanne cranked up the volume. “Look.”
The sportscaster mentioned something about hot tempers at the racetrack and then Imogen gaped at her TV. Ty was wrestling on the ground with someone. She knew it was Ty on top—she’d recognize his butt anywhere—but she couldn’t tell who was on the ground. “Who is that? Why are they fighting?”
“That’s Evan Monroe. Ryder told me that Evan found out from Elec that you and Ty broke up, so he asked Ty if he minded if he asked you out. Obviously, Ty minded.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am. He threw him down and had to be hauled off. It’s all they’re talking about in stock car racing. Ty’s going to get penalized some serious points for doing this. He probably just lost the championship.”
“Oh, my God, that’s awful!” Imogen stared at the image of the man she loved gripping Evan’s shirt. “Why would he do something so incredibly stupid and macho and . . . stupid?”
“Because,” Suzanne said triumphantly, “he is in love with you. This is jealousy, honey. The man is so cut up from your fight that he just threw his own season down the toilet.”
Imogen felt her cheeks start to burn at the very thought she had Ty behaving irrationally. “That’s insane. It’s irresponsible. It’s—”
“Hot. That’s what it is,” Suzanne said. “Just admit it. The fact that he’s torn up and wanting to beat up guys over you has you just a little damp in the panties. I know that’s how I would feel.”
Imogen shook her head rapidly. She shouldn’t think that was hot. It was macho and ludicrous and . . . hot. “Okay, I admit it! I want him to be upset. I want him to be jealous.” She flung herself down on her sofa. “I want him to want me. This has been just horrific.”