Illicit Affairs

Chapter 7

Ryan's POV

Women

What did I even say that had pissed her off so bad?

Mia Davenport was a complex woman. I have known her most of my life. She and I had both practically grown up at the race track. Her being such close friends with Erin had meant I spent a lot of time around her, but that was when we were kids.

Things changed when she had gone off to college. During that time, I had only seen her sporadically, as she was getting the education to fulfill the path her grandfather had set her on, and I was racing more and more to fulfill my own path.

I've heard all of the stories about her. Her reputation amongst drivers for one. She was labeled a spoon fed, spoiled brat who had everything handed to her on a silver platter. Why do I even care so much? It's not like we are even anything more to each other than a couple who has hooked up a few times over the course of a few days.

It's just that night on Valentine's Day, I saw something different. I saw a young woman who was hurt. She tried hiding behind a tough exterior and a nonchalant attitude, but I could see a real person with real feelings and depth just beneath the surface. I knew all about her and Chase and how they had become friends, and Chase had mentioned many times that with Mia, what you see wasn't always what you got, yet I had never seen those different layers until that night.

For the first time, I didn't see Erin's childhood friend. I didn't see Rick Hendrick's granddaughter. I saw a beautiful, desirable, lonely woman.

I am such an idiot.

I could have face palmed myself. I am no better than her drivers. No better than Jeff. No better than the damn media who didn't even bother to mention her by her name.

Of course I am proud of my family name. My grandfather and my father who helped to pave the way for me in this sport. I'm proud of the legacy of the Blaney name and the doors it helped to open, but it was nice when others saw me as me and not just as Dave Blaney's kid.

I quickly threw on some clothes and slipped out into the night finding myself at her door.

"What?" She asked, looking rather annoyed as she opened the door.

She had obviously just showered and was ready for bed. She smelled clean, fresh and ultra feminine. My nose couldn't quite detect the scent other than a sweet hint of vanilla. Her hair was in a bun. Her face scrubbed free of makeup. She was wearing a light pink silk short pajama set. She looked so soft and so touchable. Except for her eyes. They were stormy...and tired.

"What?" She asked again, obviously irritated as I was seemingly stalling. I couldn't help it. She took my breath away. "I'm about to go to bed. What do you want?"

"I see you Mia." I blurted out.

"And just what do you see?" She asked, crossing her arms across her chest, and I could see her dusky pink nipples beneath the pale, silky fabric of her button down top.

Her words were sharp, but there was that hint of vulnerability that I had picked up on that night. She wasn't as untouchable as she would like everyone to believe. She had her guard up. Walls built to keep others out.

"I see a beautiful, strong, independent woman. Intelligent, sexy as hell and fighting for acceptance. I see how others perceive you. I see how much disrespect is being shown to you. You are a bad ass and a force of nature, but it's taking a toll on you. It's wearing you down. The more you fight the worse they say about you. As for me...I'm catching glimpses and something much deeper. You are tough as nails, but it's not easy making a name for yourself because of who you are and where you come from. There is a vulnerability in you that you feel as if you can't show anyone, but I can see it. I see you Mia."