“Jared!” Madoc shouted, and I punched into sixth, my heart racing and my breathing hitching painfully in my chest.
“Oh, shit!” Jax howled, and we all held our breaths as the light just turned to green, and I flew through the intersection without slowing down.
And then I let out a breath, safely getting to the other side.
“Oh, thank God,” Madoc gasped and then looked at me. “You’re such an asshole.”
I sucked in air. “What?” I acted innocent. “It was green.”
Tate gained on my ass, but then I saw her skid into a left turn behind me.
“What?” I said more to myself than to the guys, watching her in my rearview mirror.
“She’s cutting through the school,” Jax guessed, looking out the window behind him.
“Shit,” I hissed, remembering the gates were open for Sunday track practices. She could drive into the front parking lot, go around the side of the school, and out the back gate with almost no traffic or interruption.
“You didn’t say what path to take home,” Madoc pointed out.
Yeah, I know. Why didn’t I think of that?
I rounded the square, cutting into a side street and racing through the less busy area where smaller businesses were closed on Sundays.
I kept up on the gas, my nerves firing with the need to go. I didn’t care about winning.
Winners usually don’t.
I wanted this, right here, right now, with her. I needed to see her. It was frustrating not knowing where she was.
Rounding two more corners and inching through a stop sign, I sped around the corner to Fall Away Lane just as she was rounding the corner from the other end.
“Go!” Madoc shouted, and I was about ready to punch him. What did he think I was doing?
Full speed ahead on the empty street, we both raced forward, and I screeched to a halt at the curb, followed by Tate not half a second later, the loud scream of our tires filling the whole neighborhood.
“Yes!” Madoc shouted, howling out the window. “Woo-hoo!”
I let my head fall back, my chest expelling every ounce of breath I’d been holding. Jax patted me on the shoulder, squeezing tight once, and climbed out of the car after Madoc.
Tate and the rest of the girls climbed out of the G8, smiling and laughing as Madoc and Jax wrapped their arms around them for a kiss.
Rubbing my hand down my face, feeling the thin layer of sweat, I climbed out of Jax’s car and looked over at Tate, her arms crossed as she leaned on the hood and peered over at me.
Her chest rose and fell—she was still catching her breath—and the heat in her eyes was . . .
Jesus.
I took in a deep breath, knowing what she wanted. Knowing everything she still held hostage in her brain and heart that she wouldn’t let past her lips. She was still that innocent and timid girl who let me put my hands on her in the chem lab four years ago, but with the armor of a woman who still didn’t want to trust. Not that she trusted me completely four years ago, either.
I gave her a half smile, telling her everything with my eyes that she already knew.
Nothing had changed. Especially not our foreplay.
***
“Do you need anything?” I asked my mom, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I fastened my belt. I’d just gotten out of the shower, while Jax, Juliet, Madoc, and Fallon took Pasha and joined some friends at Mario’s for dinner.
Tate stayed home to work through her reading list, and I had e-mails, budgets, and a ton of little shit that Pasha had left me to look over, which I’d finished just before I jumped in the shower and my mom called to check in.
“Well, since you ask . . . ,” she hinted, sounding cheerful. “Jason has to miss my checkup tomorrow at the doctor. Would you like to go with me?”
I stilled. She wanted me to do what?
“To the gynecologist?” I cringed, grabbing my watch to put it back on.
I heard her snort. “He’s an ob-gyn. Don’t make it weird.”
Taking the phone in hand, I dug out one of Jax’s black Tshirts, since I still hadn’t gone to claim my stuff left at Madoc’s. “Um, well . . . I’d really rather not, but if you need me . . .”
I heard her quiet laugh on the other end. “You’re precious.”
I rolled my eyes, taking the phone away from my ear to slip on the shirt. “What time should I pick you up?”
“Noon,” she shot back. “And thank you.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I was trying to be nicer. I thought she’d earned it. But it was damn hard trying to change our relationship when we’d been the same way for so long. How do you go from not liking and not respecting someone to doing both?
It wasn’t going to happen overnight. Not even close. And it felt like there would always be bad blood between us.
But Quinn Caruthers—my soon-to-be little sister—was going to have it all. No one would stand in her way, least of all me.
I’d bury any lingering resentment from my own childhood for her.
I walked to the window, zoning in on Tate sitting cross-legged on her bed with an array of books spread out before her.
Her tanned arms were half covered by her long hair spilling around her, and when she got up to do something with her iPod, I grunted under my breath, feeling my dick tighten and then swell.
“I gotta go,” I told my mom. “See you tomorrow.” And I hung up.
Gripping my phone at my side, I watched her for all of two seconds—fresh and beautiful and sweet and driving me fucking nuts—before I jogged down the stairs, texting as I went.
Come outside.
I grabbed my leather jacket and keys, dashing into the garage, hitting the opener.
I added Please just for good measure, and climbed on the motorcycle.
Turning the ignition, I backed out of the driveway and eased down in front of her house, unlatching the helmet secured to the side.
I knew she might resist, but much to my relief, the front door opened.
She stepped out, folding her arms over her chest, which I knew she did for modesty’s sake. She was in her pajamas—shorts and a T-shirt—so she wasn’t wearing a bra.