I realized a long time ago that Tate wasn’t fourteen anymore. I mean, even at that age, she was beautiful, but we’d both just been kids.
The little desires and urges that used to sneak into my head had turned into full blown fantasies.
And now, we were old enough to entertain them.
“Shit!” K.C. cursed a few feet in front of me. “I spilled beer.”
Tate twisted around to see what happened, and the whole world stopped when she found my eyes instead.
That’s how she was different from other girls.
I liked it when she looked at me.
Taking off her jacket, she tossed it to K.C., who I still hadn’t looked at. I guess she messed up her shirt and needed something to cover it.
And holy fuck.
I swallowed hard.
Tate’s white tank top was thin, tight, and I could see her nipples hardening against the night air.
I looked to Ben who had done a double-take. He was trying not to look at her, but it was hard.
Goddammit. I clenched my teeth.
The idea of ripping over there and hauling her all of the way home was tempting.
And if he kept fucking staring at her like that, I was going to dig out his teeth with a spoon.
They both turned back to the race, and K.C. put on Tate’s jacket.
Madoc and Liam finally rounded the fourth corner, but Madoc had a heavy gain. Crossing the finish line, the crowd clapped and waved their hands in the air, clearly pleased with their bet and the show.
Ben smiled down at Tate, who laughed at the rush of air brought on by the cars. She hated Madoc, so I assumed she was just fascinated with the scene rather than his winning.
They laughed and talked, looking completely comfortable with each other.
Really?
Tate didn’t want comfortable. She wanted to get pushed. She wanted someone’s hands and mouth on her, driving her insane. She wanted to be made love to in the rain.
And right now, she was trying to be someone she wasn’t.
Grabbing K.C. at the waist, I pulled her into me, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“For Liam, remember?” I whispered, not doing this for her in the least.
Trying to make Tate jealous was idiotic, but I wanted to see if she’d react. She’d certainly gotten good at that during the past month.
K.C. looked nervously to Tate, and I was afraid she was overthinking. Playing around in front of Liam was fine, but she probably had a huge problem doing anything in plain sight of Tate.
After a few moments, though, she gave in and wrapped her arms around my neck. I took the invite and dipped down to kiss under her jaw.
I buried my face in her neck, trailing soft, slow kisses up to her ear, my brain telling my body what to do.
Honestly, I’d rather be kissing Madman, but I could feel Tate’s eyes on me.
Stop, I told myself. If Tate sees you pawing her friend, she won’t let you touch her.
“Everyone clear the road!” I heard Zack shout, and I snapped my head up, too eagerly. “Trent and Roman, get your asses on the starting line.”
I ran my hand down my face.
Fuckin’ finally.
Walking around and climbing into my car, I started the engine, feeling the thunder under my body. I lived for two things: tormenting Tate and tearing up the track.
Even though everything I made at the Loop went to my father, I still loved racing. My foot twitched at the feel of the pedal, and my hands had mastered the maneuvers of my car perfectly. I could work the wheel and get the machine to steer, slide, and turn the exact way I needed it to.
It was two minutes, once a week, when I loved my life.
Still Swingin’ by Papa Roach screamed from my speakers as I pulled my Boss 302 onto the track. My black Mustang was charged, fast, and completely me. It was the only thing my mother let me buy with the money from my grandfather’s house. It was paid for and my only outlet when I needed to get away from people and get lost.
Derek Roman, a freshman in college and former classmate, made it back to town once in a while to race. He pulled his 2002 Trans Am up next to mine, and my fingers tightened on the wheel.
He carried some weight. Some people bet against me tonight in favor of him. Kind of insulting, but it served my needs. The smaller the odds, the bigger the payoff.
“All right!” Zack called out, his voice deep and commanding. “Clear the track for the main event of the evening.”