Drew crested and didn’t hesitate at all. He freaking nose-dived, once again not using his brake at all. Once at the top, I slowed way down and watched the show.
Seconds later, the car hit the dip.
He was going so fast, he got some air.
It’s not like he was thirty feet high, but it was enough that all four tires were off the asphalt.
My stomach clenched when he hit the ground, but the Mustang bounced back and the tires absorbed the shock. He powered up the next hill and slid around the corner, disappearing from sight.
“Crazy as fuck.” I chuckled and followed behind (at a much less breakneck pace).
He was parked on the wide shoulder just around the bend, leaning against the side of his car like he’d been waiting there for hours instead of a mere minute.
“If they gave out tickets for driving like a turtle, you’d have gotten one.” The lazy tone in his voice matched his stance.
“Fuck you.” I laughed and slammed the door.
“You see that air? That might have been the most I’ve gotten yet.” He shoved off the side and mimicked with his arms the way he imagined the car looked.
He was wearing a pair of boot-cut black jeans, black boots, and his black leather jacket. Beneath it was a plain white hoodie-style shirt, the hood pulled out and draped over the collar of his jacket.
“Yeah, it was pretty sweet.” I agreed and leaned against the back end of my car, tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.
“You shoulda dragged tonight,” Drew said, moving over to stand beside me. “The way you were driving back there on the road, it was hellacious.”
“Hellacious?” I squinted at him.
“Yeah. Like bodacious but way more badass… hellacious.”
I chuckled. “You were pretty hellacious yourself.” I tried out the word on my tongue. I liked it. “First time I’ve seen that Camaro around the track. You recognize the driver?”
He moved his head once. “No, the windows were too tinted to really make out his face. I only saw his outline really.”
“Kinda odd,” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest. It was cold as shit out here.
“Why’s that?” Drew frowned.
I lifted one shoulder. “The way he just kinda appeared at the track. I kinda got the impression he was wanting to race you. Like you said. Couldn’t really see his face… but I felt him watching you.”
Drew lifted his eyebrows in suggestion, his voice turning sly. “Maybe it was a woman.”
My stomach did this weird flip that made me feel sick all of a sudden. I ignored it and rolled my eyes. “You almost got beat by a girl, then.”
“Shit, I had that drag in my back pocket the entire time.”
I made a sound that could have been an agreement or dismissal. I opened his driver’s door and reached in to pop the hood.
“Give me some light,” I instructed as I propped it up and shoved the sleeves of the Varsity coat I was wearing out of my way.
“How’d you know?” Drew asked, shining the bright light from his flashlight app down over the engine of his car.
I barked a laugh. “I know you, Drew. Every time you go all balls to the wall on the road and jump that dip, something gets knocked loose.”
“And this is why if I ever get to the big time, I’m taking you with me. Every driver needs a crew boss.” He mused and shined the light exactly where I reached.
I glanced up. “A crew boss?”
He waved away my partial confusion.
I knew what he meant, but I’d never heard it referred to as a crew boss. “Head mechanic, pit crew chief, manager, whatever. You’d be the one I’d want there with me.”
This funny feeling spread through my chest, kind of warm and liquid. It made me feel awkward and partially exposed. So I kept my face turned down and focused on checking all the parts that needed checking.
After a minute, when he said nothing, I cleared my throat. “I’m not experienced enough to be your head mechanic.” I leaned off the side to check another section of the engine.
I’d been concentrating so hard on not looking up, not thinking too much about how what he said made me feel, I didn’t even notice he’d moved closer. So when I shifted and reached out, my shoulder brushed against his.
I pulled back slightly and focused down again.
“Maybe not,” he answered, “but I trust you. Trust is more important than experience.”
I swallowed and reached for a plug I knew was notorious for jarring loose. “I trust you, too, man.” I cleared my throat again (suddenly, it seemed hard to swallow) and finally looked up. “This one’s loose.”
“Let’s see.” Drew leaned forward, bringing the light with him.
Our shoulders brushed together again.
This time I didn’t pull back.
He didn’t either.
“See?” I said, giving it a wiggle.
“Tighten it as good as you can. When I get home, I’ll pull out the tools.”
I leaned in a little more to do what he asked and expected him to move back.
Drew stayed where he was.
We both did, huddled beneath the hood, bent low, bodies pressed close as we stared down at the engine. I wasn’t thinking about the engine, though.
I wondered if he was.