by A. J. Logan
Reaching for him, my fingers brush along his bicep. When he jerks away from me, I jump back, tucking my hand under my arm.
“What the actual fuck, Dylan?”
“That’s enough,” Dylan replies, no emotion in his voice.
Bryce gets in his face, yelling obscenities, but Dylan remains still.
I’m gutted, I can only imagine how Dylan feels. “Stop it, Bryce. It’s bad enough already.”
“Why? Why did you do it?” Bryce demands.
“It’s done. I lost.”
Bryce stands nose to nose with Dylan. “No, you didn’t lose. You let him win.”
“He won.” Dylan remains in place as Bryce finally backs away from him.
“You know that’s bullshit. I know it’s bullshit.” Bryce’s head hangs down as he shakes it before looking up to Dylan. “You let off just before the line.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Did he? Dylan had the lead up until the last second.
“Did you?” I ask as he tenses up, never acknowledging me.
“Sadie, let’s go.” Willow lightly grasps my elbow.
Bryce continues his rant as he shoves Dylan. “This isn’t about him. This isn’t about her. This is about you.” Bryce steps up in Dylan’s face, bringing his finger to Dylan’s temple, pressing it against his head. “Your head is fucked up, and you still got behind the wheel and ran that race.”
“You’re wrong,” Dylan says nonchalantly.
Bryce gawks at him for a few seconds before throwing his hands up in frustration. “Get in the fuckin’ car.” Bryce stomps away, Dylan follows him a few seconds later, and they both drop into the GT-R as Bryce drives off in a fury.
“What the hell just happened?” Willow asks aloud the question I’m thinking.
“He wouldn’t do it on purpose. It was too important.”
“We should go.” Willow loops her arm in mine as we slowly walk back to her car. “Let’s head to your house before it gets too much later.”
The Mustang. I need my car. But I can’t get his defeated, agonizing expression out of my mind. “I need you to take me somewhere else.”
They have to be headed back to Bryce’s hotel, so I ask Willow to head that way. After a few minutes of telling me I should give him some time, she finally gives in and agrees to drive me there but insists on coming to the room with me. Whatever. I need to see him, and Bryce too. The charming, happy-go-lucky guy was more intense than I ever pictured he could be.
We arrive at the hotel, hurrying through the lobby. As we attempt to go upstairs, a desk clerk stops us. Mid-explanation, I hear Bryce say my name from behind. Turning, I see a sullen Bryce standing there. Alone.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He took off and didn’t tell me where he was going.” Bryce starts to say something but stops when he looks at Willow. There’s a look of frustration that resembles disgust on his face before he looks back to me. “He’s never thrown a race before. Ever. If you care about him, you’ll make sure he doesn’t get back on that track again.”
“Why would he race again if he lost on purpose? What makes you think he’ll even try again?”
“Because I know him.” Bryce walks away, and Willow and I head back to her car.
“Can you take me by his apartment? He might be there.” I give her the directions and she drives across town. Willow waits in the car while I quickly make my way to his door, knocking before turning the knob. Surprisingly, the door pushes open. The empty apartment is just as it was the last time I was here, only Dylan isn’t here.
What if he left town? What if he doesn’t come back? My hand clutches my stomach as I hurry back to Willow’s car, quickly shutting the door. We head back to our apartment when I tell her he wasn’t there.
Shortly after we arrive at the apartment, we’re both ready to sleep. Willow says she’ll give me a ride to work in the morning, so I head to the shower, then pull on a T-shirt afterwards as I climb into bed. Exhausted is an understatement as I lie there, but I still can’t get my thoughts to stop racing.
It’s about three hours later when I hear a knocking on the door. Please. Let that be who I think it is.
Quickly hurrying out, I press my palms against the door as I look through the peephole. The weight that is lifted off my shoulders when I see his face is astonishing.
Pulling the door open, I watch as he slowly walks into the apartment and sits down on the couch. Noticing Willow’s door propped open a little, I head over to close it but stop when I see her bed is empty. Peeking into her room, the bathroom door is open and the light turned off. Where is she? She must have decided to stay at Parker’s and didn’t want to wake me.
After I pull her bedroom door closed, I swiftly walk towards the couch, hesitating as I approach him and take a seat beside him. He sits with his elbows propped on his knees, his hands cupping his face as he rubs his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I whisper into the unnervingly quiet room.
His hands drop, and his head turns to look at me. I want to wrap my arms around him, hug him, get close to him, just be with him. But recalling how he’d jerked away from me earlier, I refrain. I don’t believe he would hurt me, but that angry reflex frightened me.
Swiftly, he moves forward, his hand reaching out for my face, I reflexively back away.
Horror covers his face as his hands drop to his thighs, rubbing his palms along his jeans. “Sadie, I’m sorry. I just … I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t. You scared me.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“Did you let him win?”
Dylan entwines his fingers, rubbing his hands together as he looks to me. “Yes.”
A soft gasp escapes before I whisper, “Why would you do that?”
“You,” he responds so lowly that I think I misheard him as he closes his eyes.
Reaching over, I place my hand on his thigh. No sooner does my hand touch his leg than his hand drops on top of mine to grasp it. Bringing it to his mouth, he kisses my wrist reverently. “I’m not ready to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“Yes, I will. I was sitting in my car, ready to launch down the track, and I had every intention of winning until the last second. If I won, it would be final. I would have to finish what I set out to do. Then what? Every one of them would suffer, but I wouldn’t have you, and Noah will still be dead. And my mom would find out everything I’ve done. My brother is dead.” He repeats the words, his voice breaking like he’s hearing the news for the first time. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is. He was here because of me. I set him on a course that led straight to his death.”
“You didn’t know. There was no way you could’ve known what would happen or change it.”
His fingers cling tighter to mine as his head drops. “I saw his face. When I was sitting in the car, waiting to take off. I saw his face. That’s when it hit me. He’s gone and there’s not a fucking thing that will make the pain go away. It’s not some cruel joke, some catastrophic mishap, a horrendous mistake. He’s really gone. Noah was the one who constantly told me to be safe, lecture me about wearing a seat belt, told me to slow down when I was barreling down a dead-end path. Everything I should’ve done for him. And when I saw his face, I knew he’d be disappointed, hate what I was setting out to do. But I can’t stop. He’s not here to tell me to stop.”
“It’s your choice. You can stop. You don’t have to get back on that track. You don’t have to do any of it. He would want what’s best for you.” I try to convince him, but I feel him fighting my words. He’s so focused on tunneling a path straight ahead and can’t get off the course. “Dylan …”
“I was supposed to protect him, make sure he was safe. Instead, I killed him—my little brother.”
Slowly pulling my hand out of his, I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he swiftly engulfs me in his arms, burying his face against my neck as he pulls
me on his lap. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I don’t know what to do. Just let me figure out what to do,” he pleads, hugging me closer to him before shifting to look at me. “Please don’t leave me. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whisper as his thumb brushes over my lips.
He slowly leans forward, feathering a tender kiss on my lips before the kiss deepens, becoming needy, pulling from me what we both have been fighting for so long. And I’m so tired of fighting against him.
Shifting to straddle him, I reach for the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head and tossing it to the floor. His hands grip my ass, pressing me down on his lap. I pull my own T-shirt over my head, tossing it quickly to the side as I reach for him, my fingers clutching his shoulders as I rock against him. The soft material of my underwear rubs against his jeans. There’s too much between us. I want to feel him and only him.
Reaching for his jeans, I begin unbuttoning them when his hand clasps mine, stopping me.
“Sadie, are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I crash my mouth to his, showing him that I’m ready … as ready as I can possibly be for him.
He grips my thighs, holding me as my legs wrap around his waist when he stands from the couch. Walking into my bedroom, he sets me on the edge of my bed. His mouth never leaves mine as he pulls my underwear down then kicks off his jeans. His hand rubs my inner thigh and then his fingers slip inside me, his mouth swallowing the gasp from mine.
His lips trail down my neck, as he kneels on the floor between my legs. His mouth moves over my chest as he licks my nipple before sucking it between his lips while his fingers continue pumping inside me. Moving lower, he deposits kisses over my stomach as he guides me to lie back on the bed. There’s no better feeling than his face between my thighs as his tongue tastes me, gently licking before working mercilessly to pull an orgasm out of my needy core.
Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, kissing a path up my body. We both scoot further up on the bed toward the headboard and he hovers over me.
He gently drops down, brushing his lips over my mouth as he mutters, “I’m not worried about your firsts … I want to be your lasts.”
My hands cling to his sides, holding tight to his taut muscles as I close my eyes. Lifting up to meet his kiss, I murmur, “All yours.”
His body tenses at my declaration for only a moment before he ravishes my mouth with his. He breaks away, pulls back slightly, then sucks in a deep breath. “If you need me to slow down, tell me. Tell me what you need.”
“You. I need you.” I pull him to me, wanting to feel him, knowing that I can tell him to stop at any moment and he will. Not that that’s what I want. Raising my hips, his cock rubs against me, sending a profound longing zipping through me. I know without a doubt he’s the only one who can fulfill it.
His hand grips my thigh, strong and powerful yet gentle and adoring. He lifts my leg to hook on his waist, then hesitates for a moment before slowly shifting forward. His hard cock slowly, impeccably fills me as my fingers dig into his back. He stills for a moment when he’s fully inside me before nearly pulling out completely and then rocking back into me. Gradually, I feel my body relaxing where I hadn’t even realized I was tensing. Where I used to expect to feel pain, torment, and emptiness, each thrust from Dylan fills me with pleasure. He increases my desire for him—to have him deeper, harder, longer, and to never let go.
He kisses me as he rocks into me. My hips meet his thrust for thrust until he goes still, tensing and cussing under his breath. His hand squeezes my thigh as he holds my leg tightly against him. He wants me closer; he’s not immediately withdrawing and leaving me alone on the bed. Instead, he remains inside me for several luxurious minutes, kissing me, wiping strands of hair off my face, tracing his fingers across my brow, sighing contentedly before slowly pulling out.
That is how it’s supposed to feel. And that’s how I always want it to be. Only with him—my last.
40
Dylan
As I wake, I feel her warm, naked back pressed against my chest. My arm tightens around her stomach, pulling her closer to kiss her shoulder. She lets out a soft sigh, and grabbing my arm, tucks it across her chest, pulling it tighter around her. For a few seconds, the feeling that everything is all right allows me to soak in her relaxed state. Right now, she fully trusts me, as if my arm will shield her from what’s to come. But she shouldn’t.
“I need to get to work.” She lets out a frustrated groan as she rolls away from me and grabs her phone off the nightstand then plops back against me. Neither of us make a move to get out of bed, lying there in serene silence until she asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I reply, the race replaying in my head for the thousandth time.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispers as she keeps her face turned away from me.
Reaching up, I tuck her hair behind her ear, and I lean forward, feathering a kiss behind her ear. “I don’t believe me either.”
I’m not okay. Bryce knew it. Deep down, I knew it too and still raced. Yet, there’s an involuntary smile on my face. She’s not hiding from me any longer … and I can’t hide from her. Maybe there is some hope for us, for me to keep her. There has to be because my fate was sealed long before last night. I can’t exist without her. But I can’t stay here. Everything reminds me of Noah. That was my focus when I arrived in Sunland. And even as she took ahold of me, I still walked around this miserable town wondering if I was visiting somewhere Noah had too … anything to feel a connection to him in this place. But I’ve never felt so detached from him.
She shifts, rolling onto her side as she looks to me. “Where’d you go last night?”
“Nowhere.” Nowhere because I feel like I’m spinning in circles, driving a circle track that is endless. I loop around the track, battle my way to the finish line only to realize there’s another lap to go, another obstacle to overcome on the never-ending track. Those aren’t the races I run. A quarter mile, straight shot as I cross the finish line in seconds, always keeping my eyes on the prize. Focus. Drive. Win.
Sadie loops her arm around my torso, hugging tight as she tucks her face against my chest. A few minutes later, she releases me and slides off the bed which immediately feels so empty it’s painful, and I hurry to stand, pulling my jeans on as Sadie heads into the bathroom.
Dropping down on the end of the bed, I look around the room as I patiently wait for her to get dressed. A soft knock sounds on the door and Willow peeks in, shocked when she sees me sitting there.
“I’m almost ready to head to work,” Sadie says as she exits the bathroom and walks over to her dresser, pulling the top drawer open. She digs around with her back to us while asking her friend, “Where’d you go last night?”
Willow gives me an anxious look as she responds, “I forgot something at Parker’s. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
“I’ll take her,” I say just as Willow turns to leave the room. She can’t escape fast enough because we both know she wasn’t at Parker’s.
Sadie turns looking at me with confusion, oblivious to the panicked state of her best friend. “Do you have Bryce’s car?”
“No.”
“Um. Okay.” She gives me a questioning look but continues getting dressed as I step into the bathroom.
On the other side of the door, I hear Willow’s hushed whispers, but I’m unable to make out what she’s saying. There’s no point in worrying. All will come to light eventually, even Willow’s secrets, whether she wants them to or not. Everything.
A few minutes later, I walk out of the bathroom. Willow avoids looking my way, hurrying out of the room.
“Ready?” I ask Sadie. She nods, walking out of the bedroom and then out of the apartment as I follow behind her.
Stopping on the edge of the pathway on the cement curb, she glances around the parking lot, not knowing where to head. I clasp her hand before leading her across
the parking lot, stepping up to the passenger door, I pull it open for her. She looks at the car then back to me.
“Whose car is this? Is this yours?” An incredulous expression matching the one she’d had when she found out I paid Oliver back for her tuition crosses her face.
“It’s mine,” I respond as she does another once-over of the Lexus.
“My dad has loved the LFAs for years. He said the engine sounds better than any other car he’s ever gotten his hands on.” She examines the interior but doesn’t get in.
“Yes.” That and the limited availability are what hooked me.
“When did you … where …?” she asks in awe as she continues studying the car like it’s an enchanted stagecoach.
“I picked it up last night.” Confusion blankets her face, so I patiently explain. “I stashed away a few cars because I wasn’t sure which I was gonna race.”
“‘A few cars’? This one alone costs a freakin’ fortune.”
“Just get in.” I prod, waving to the car’s passenger seat, but she doesn’t make a move. “It’s just a car, Sadie.”
“How many ‘just a cars’ do you have?”
“Why does it matter?” Her fascination with the rare automobile, I can handle. Her viewing me differently is what I can’t.
“It doesn’t. But now I understand why you weren’t bothered about letting me drive the STI or losing it to Kyle last night. It was pocket change compared to your others.”
My teeth clench as she drops into the car and moves to pull the door closed. Grabbing the top of the door, I throw it back, stooping down next to where she sits. “I chose to race the STI because it was the car Noah and I built together. Every part carefully selected, every piece assembled with our four hands, every drop of paint sprayed on by us. We laughed, we fought, we bled, all while building that car, but we did it together. The car isn’t worth a ‘freakin’ fortune’ … it’s priceless.”
Her face softens as she lifts her hand, cupping my cheek against her palm. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
Leaning forward, I tenderly kiss her, lingering for a few minutes before standing and carefully closing the door. Then I walk around the car and drop into the driver’s seat.
