@Muttford: Her jaw involuntarily dropped as Esmeralda watched Brad remove his crash helmet. Were those streaks down Brad's cheeks the rich musk of perspiration after completing the arduous Snelgrove 500, or was it the frustration of his once again finishing the race a tantalizingly close second?
Forcing her way past the pit crew, Esmeralda wrapped her lithe arms around Brad's sinewy abdomen.
"Oh, Brad, Brad", Esmeralda sobbed, for now it was her turn to cry, "you were so close, so close!"
Lovingly Brad returned her embrace. "Esmie", he said (she loved when he called her Esmie), his cleft chin tilted ever-so-slightly skyward, "this can't go on. If I'm ever to break through in NASCAR, I'll have to break my promise to you..." His voice trailed off.
Esmeralda gasped. She knew what he was asking of her, and although it broke her heart she knew, knew that he was right.
"Alright, Brad", she said biting her lip until specks of crimson appeared, "you don't have to wear the puffy shirts anymore." |
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