She’d never been around him when a buzz of excitement didn’t announce his presence in advance, but looking at him, she understood why. A dark cap was pulled low on his head, obscuring his artfully arranged blond curls. His posture was slumped. He was pale and unsteady.“Buy you a beer?” he asked.She shook her head in disbelief. She’d convinced James to drive her to a bar not too far from the speedway, but not high profile enough that she would draw attention. She wanted to be pathetic alone. “This is too weird.”“No kidding.” He signaled the bartender. “Bud Light. You want a refill?” he added to her.Lexie stared into her half-full martini glass. It was part of some weird, defiant, reminiscent confusion that stemmed from several weeks of personal and professional highs and lows that swung as wildly as a kid on a playground. The drink was too strong and too out of character.But after a couple of them, they didn’t taste too bad.“Sure,” she said, then drained the glass.The bartender gave her a dubious look.
