For good.
“Girl,” one of the racers drawled, wrapping an arm around Tate’s neck as she made her way through the crowd. “I could’ve won that race. You know I backed off out of pity.”
One corner of her lips tilted in a smile as she made her way back over to where Ben stood a few feet away from me.
“We’ve raced three times,” she pointed out, eyeing him. “Why keep racing me if you’re purposely going to lose every time?”
I laughed under my breath. “Well, if he beats a girl,” I mumbled, pretending to fiddle on my phone, “what has he really won?”
I heard Madoc’s snort from a few feet off, and I swallowed, immediately regretting the words.
Awesome. What the hell was wrong with me? No matter how much I liked to think that I had grown up, being around Tate brought out the bully all over again.
I could practically feel Pasha’s eye roll next to me, and silence fell on Tate’s conversation telling me they’d all heard the insult.
“You don’t believe that.” Tate’s flat voice sounded so sure, and I knew she was talking to me.
I looked up, stuffing my phone into my back pocket as I stood.
“You’re a lot of things,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest, “but you’re not sexist.”
“Look who knows me so well,” I taunted, acting like her boyfriend wasn’t even there.
And he wasn’t. He didn’t matter.
Tate cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not hard to figure out, Jared.”
“No, I’m not,” I agreed. “I’m just bored.”
“Hmmm,” she nodded, shooting me with her fake, sympathetic gaze. “That’s right. This is all beneath you now, isn’t it? We’re simply the amateurs entertaining you with our mediocrity.” And then she raised her voice, stepping closer as she spoke to those around us. “He can take stories of us back to his hot shot friends, laughing about his ‘roots’ . . .” she stopped to add air quotes, much to the enjoyment of everyone listening. “And how far he’s come while we’re all still muddling along in this no-name town.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing how wrong she was. I loved the Loop and my home, and I never let any success I gained go to my head. Anything I said or did to give that impression was simply to get under her skin.
I heard a throat clearing behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Fallon and Juliet smiling in support of their girl. I was kind of alone. Jax was up in the announcer’s stand and Madoc was off to the side, clearly not picking a side and just enjoying the show as his eyes shot between Tate and me.
“But if I remember correctly,” Tate spoke up again as conversations around us halted and people started listening, “Jared did say he wanted to race, didn’t he?” she asked the crowd, looking around and egging them on.
They cheered and laughed, clearly liking where she was going with this.
“Tate?” I gritted out, warning her, but she ignored me.
“Yes, yes, he did say that, didn’t he?” she shouted, now having everyone’s attention. “He said he wanted a race, and I think Zack and Jax would be more than happy to adjust the schedule for such a prestigious Loop alumnus.”
I shot a hard look up to the stand, seeing my brother leaning down on the railing grinning his ass off.
I took a deep breath, crossing my arms over my chest. “I said I wanted one race,” I clarified to Tate. “One race with one driver in particular.”
She knew what I wanted. What was she doing?
She turned around, looking into the crowd. “Derek! Derek Roman, where are you?”
“What?” I heard his deep voice from off to my right.
Cocking my head, I saw Roman coming through the crowd, using a shop cloth to clean off his fingers. He must’ve been under the hood of a car.
After all this time, he hadn’t changed much. Still looked like a fifties greaser reject with his slicked black hair and plain T-shirts. We used to run into each other a lot at the Loop when I was in high school, and I knew he worked the Loop with Jax now, helping out and such, but I hadn’t talked to him. We didn’t get along, and Tate knew that.
“You and Jared have unfinished business,” Tate reminded him, and I immediately felt the irritation pool under my skin when I realized what she was doing.
“Your last race together was a tie, wasn’t it?” Tate knew the answer. She was merely reminding everyone.
“No.” Roman shook his head. “I won that race.”
“Like hell you did,” I blurted out, feeling my rival’s challenge like a hot poker in my side.
He laughed, sounding condescending, and I looked over to see Tate’s lips curl in mischief as she held my eyes.
“Derek,” she said softly. “How about a rematch? Your Trans Am against Jared’s bike?”
“That’s a dumb race,” Roman shot back.
“I agree.” I hooded my eyes in boredom. “He has no chance.”
“Fuck you,” he growled.
“Fuck you,” I mumbled, barely meeting his eyes.
“Tensions are hot, everyone.” Tate looked to the crowd, holding up her hands. “What do you say?”
I shifted in irritation as the noise became deafening. Shouts, howls, and cheers rang out in the hot, night air, and I really wanted to shut her up. Like really shut her up.
“I’m not taking this race!” I heard Roman shout. “A sport bike against my car? That’s not fair!”
“Exactly.” I nodded, inching toward Tate and ignoring Ben’s rigid stance beside her. “And I have nothing to prove, so why would I do this?” I asked her.
“Because if you win,” she replied, “you can race me.” And then she looked to Ben. “You okay with that?”
He cocked an eyebrow, his hard stare turning amused. She didn’t need his permission to race, but she was asking him out of respect. Racing her ex-boyfriend—or engaging in any activity with an ex-boyfriend—was crossing a line.