K.C. broke the silence. “And Jared, this is Tatum Brandt. Say ‘hi,’” she joked as Jared slid an arm around her waist. My breathing hitched.
He glanced over at me through hooded eyes, and took in my outfit, only jerking his chin at me before returning his focus to the starting line.
I rolled my eyes and turned toward the action.
“And we’re ready!” A young guy I assumed was the Race Master called out for people to clear the track. My eyes darted to all of the money changing hands as people placed their bets.
The roar of the engines vibrated under my feet and sent shivers up my legs. My toes curled. Damn, I wish I was racing. I hated being a spectator, but I still fidgeted with anticipation.
A girl in a short plaid skirt and tiny red camisole took position in front of the cars and raised her hands in the air.
“Ready?” she called out.
The engines revved, sending shouts of enthusiasm through the crowd.
“Set?” She raised her arms higher.
“Go!”
I jerked up to my tiptoes again to see the peel of the tires kicking up dust as they struggled to get going. I bobbed up and down a little with the excitement, and I couldn’t contain my ear to ear smile. The cars shot past, sending a gust of wind in my face and a thunderous pounding in my chest.
“Shit!” I heard behind me and turned to see K.C. wiping her shirt.
“I spilled beer,” she mumbled.
I saw Jared a few feet behind her, still leaning on his car, not even watching the race. His focus was entirely on me, something familiar in his expression. In that moment, the race, Ben, and K.C. didn’t even exist.
A tiny moan barely made it out of my throat as my heart sped up and my stomach flip-flopped.
He was giving me the same look I got Wednesday night right before he kissed me, and I knew I hadn’t imagined anything. It was anger and desire mixed together to make something hot enough for my knees to go weak. From the way he’d been ignoring me yesterday and today, barely sparing me eye contact, I had begun to wonder if it’d all been a wet dream on my part.
But, nope.
Taking a deep breath and tearing my eyes away, I tore off my jacket and tossed it to K.C. “Put this on.”
“Thanks.” She held the cup in one hand and slipped on the jacket with the other.
Sparing Jared another glance, I noticed that his chest rose and fell hard as his eyes spit fire. The desire was gone. His gaze was on Ben now, who I realized had also been looking at me but turned away as if he’d been caught eyeballing something he shouldn’t have.
Again, I immediately wanted to cover myself.
I was here for the race. I reminded myself and turned back to the track.
Madoc and Liam were never head to head. Either Madoc was drastically behind Liam, or Liam was a ridiculous distance behind Madoc. After a minute, the crowd started laughing when they realized that Madoc was just toying with his opponent. No wonder Jared wasn’t watching. He knew it would be an easy win. Not that Liam’s Camaro wasn’t worthy, but Madoc was more experienced and had done a hell of a lot of work to his car.
On the last turn, Madoc surged ahead one last time and crossed the finish line to the sounds of cheers and whistles. People rushed his car, and Madoc emerged with an idiotic grin on his smug face. Some girl grabbed his gray t-shirt and stuck her tongue in his mouth. Eww.
Liam slowly climbed out of his car and immediately looked to K.C. who, I noticed, was blatantly wrapped around Jared again. My leg spasmed with an urge to kick something when I saw him bury his head in her neck. She giggled with pleasure, obviously for show.
“Jared’s up next.” Ben rubbed his jaw. “Roman’s awesome. I hope I didn’t bet on the wrong guy.”
I honestly didn’t know who I would bet on if I cared to place money on either dickhead.
“Everyone clear the road!”
I jumped.
The Race Master was starting the next event. “Trent and Roman, get your asses on the starting line.”
And suddenly I was nervous about this match up.