Chapter Twenty Four

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Dixie actually put her hand on her chest, her heart was beating so fast. The infield was dark, but for the ambient light from distant track lights and light spilling from the haulers parked close together.

Without thinking, she traced her way through the maze and ended up at Nicky's coach, her hand wavering as she prepared to knock on his door.

It was not yet late, but she didn't see much light and hoped he was awake – or at least 'home'.

With a shaking hand, she knocked on the door and was about to spin on her heel and trot away when it opened, dimly illuminating Nicky in the doorway. "Dixie," he said, sounding genuinely happy. "I figured you had long since gone to the hotel. Come in, come in," he said, gesturing her inside.

Dixie followed him inside, closing the door behind him and noting the very dimly lit interior. "Oh my God," she said. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No," Nicky said, shaking his head easily. "I was just laying in bed reading."

"Anything good?" Dixie asked, sitting primly on the overstuffed coach nearby, feeling as though they were strangers, instead of two people who had gone riding for hours together only hours ago.

"Just some Larry McMurtry, but believe me, he can keep," Nicky said, sitting down on the other end of the coach. "Not that I'm not really happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Haven't you missed the last bus back to the hotel for the night?"

Dixie shrugged. "I can always call a car if I need to..." she said nervously. "I, um, I stayed because I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," Nicky said, looking unsure. "In a good way?"

"Well, I hope so," Dixie said. "But I guess you can judge for yourself."

"Okay," Nicky said, settling against the cushions. "You want something to drink? Eat?"

"No, I'm fine," Dixie said curtly. "Thanks."

"You seem... you seem nervous. I've never really seen you nervous, and now it's making me nervous."

Dixie barked a laugh. "This is going great so far."

"What is going great?" Nicky asked, trying to set her at ease. "Dix, relax. It's just me. What's going on?"

Dixie looked at him, studying his tousled hair and his serious brow, the happy gleam in his eye and the slight smile on his lips.

God, he made her happy, and she hoped she wasn't about to put a monkey wrench in that.

"When we fought a few weeks ago..." Dixie began and Nicky groaned.

"I thought... I thought we were done with that," Nicky said, suddenly nervous as to where this was going.

"I know. And we are, mostly. But something you said was true, and I came to tell you why, so we can either move forward, or, you know, not. And believe me when I tell you, I'll respect your decision either way."

"Are you about to reveal you're a KGB agent or something?" Nicky asked lightly. This is all sounding pretty serious, he mused, and he'd never seen Dixie so ill at ease.

It was making him twitchy.

"Okay, okay," Dixie said, trying again. "When we... not fought, but had our 'discussion', you accused me of having a fear of intimacy and a fear of rejection."

Nicky nodded slowly, but refused to corroborate her statement.

"Mostly, I have a fear of rejection because of that intimacy," Dixie said in a rush.

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