Quarter Mile Hearts

by Jenny Siegel

  “Nuh-uh. There is no way I’m getting on the back of that. Especially not wearing this skirt.” She steps out the door and closes it behind her. Okay, she has a point. The denim skirt is way too tight and way too short. It would end up around her waist if she tried to get on the back of my bike.

  Without saying a word, I park the bike in her drive and climb off, while she opens up her Honda and waits until I get in before pulling away from the curb.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The diner.” Of course, why did I ask? There aren’t many other places to eat; plus, the food is actually pretty good.

  “Where’s Aaron?”

  “He’ll meet us there and then we can head up to the quarter mile.”

  “Is he racing?”

  “No, not tonight.”

  Once inside the diner, we order and Beth leans forward. “So, tomorrow we’re wedding planning.” She smiles brightly, and I drop my head to rest on the table.

  “Do you really need me for that?” The table obscures my words.

  “Yes, you are my maid of honor.” I raise my head to look at her, and thankfully, my reaction hasn’t dampened her enthusiasm. “Plus, there is an engagement party to arrange.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Aaron’s parents want to throw us one; it’s in a couple of weeks. You’ll still be here, won’t you?”

  “Yeah, I think I will.”

  “Good, I need you here.”

  “For you.” I smile at her with fondness because I’ve missed her. There have been so many times that I have wanted nothing more than to make the drive just to see her and hear her ramble on about Aaron and how great he is.

  “How long are you staying for?” She watches me over the rim of her glass as I shrug and take a sip of my soda.

  “Until dad is better, I guess.”

  “What about work?”

  “Yeah… I need to call them and tell them that I’ll be longer than I thought.”

  “You should think about staying. It would be good to have you here.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  “You’ve got Aaron.”

  “I know, but I miss my best friend. It would be good for you too, if you stayed.” She pauses but continues to scrutinize me, her eyes searching for any clue about what I’m thinking. “Are you happy?”

  “I guess.” I give her a shrug. The truth is that I’m not happy. I go to work then go home, and that’s it. I don’t have friends. I miss Beth and Aaron, and I miss my dad. But I would never tell them that. It was such a big decision to leave, one that I didn’t tell them about until it was time to go. Being home makes me miss my life here, the life I could have. That’s why visits were always short, but I already know this one won’t be. Now that I’m here, I’m not in a hurry to leave. The novelty might wear off and then I may rush to leave, but for now, I’m happy to be here.

  Beth changes the subject and tells me everything that has been happening since the last time I was home for a visit. Which isn’t much. But it’s good to hear anyway.

  Chapter Six

  There are already cars parked all over the road and in front of the chained up gates of the quarry by the time we arrive. Beth pulls onto the side of the road to park, and we both climb out to go in search of Aaron. His face lights up when he sees Beth sashaying over to where he stands talking to Max. Great. Stupid of me but I forgot that he would be here. She walks into Aaron’s open arms and he leans down to kiss her, a deep kiss that carries on for far too long. The longer I stand there, the more awkward I feel. Rolling my eyes at them, I turn side on and avert my eyes.

  Of course, I catch Max’s smirk, and he steps closer to me, nudging me with his elbow. The smell of Armani carries in the warm breeze, and I inhale deeply. Does he really have to smell so good? It’s not fair.

  “Hey, boss.” He flashes one of his well-practiced sexy smiles, and I fight to keep a straight face. I’ve done so well at ignoring him at work and not staring at him while I’m there. Now, he’s a sight for sore eyes, having him standing in front of me looking so gorgeous.

  “Ha-ha.” He’s taken to calling me boss because he knows full well that it annoys the hell out of me. I’m not his boss nor do I pretend to be; I don’t tell him what to do. He and Aaron are perfectly capable of managing their own workload.

  “You racing?” He casts a sideways glance, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

  “Nuh-uh.” I shake my head defiantly; he’s not tricking me again.

  “Why not?”

  “Really? We’re going to do this? You tricked me into racing once, but I’m not doing it again.”

  His answering chuckle only succeeds in infuriating me further and I have to question why I let myself get sucked in by his taunts. You would think that after all this time and with age, I would stop letting him reduce me to such childish behavior. But when it comes to him, I can’t help it. He brings out this whole other side to me. A side that I don’t like but can’t seem to rein in.

  “Race with me then?”

  “With you? Like in the same car as you?

  “Yeah.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “I want your expert opinion.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There are some changes I want to make to the car, and I want you to hear what you think.”

  “As we’re racing?”

  “Yeah, you think you can handle it?”

  If he hadn’t added that last bit, I probably would have just walked away, but it’s a red rag to a bull, and like an idiot I fall for it. With a roll of my eyes, I stalk away, shouting, “Bring it on,” over my shoulder as I make my way to his car. I’m glad that I have my back to him and don’t see the smug grin that I’m sure graces his gorgeous mouth. Or the knowing looks that he exchanges with Beth and Aaron because he knows exactly which buttons to press in order to get me to do what he wants.

  Max takes his time walking over to where I’m leaning against his car waiting for him, and I try my hardest not to watch how his jeans mold perfectly to his muscular thighs, particularly over the crotch, or to remember exactly what is in there. His t-shirt clings to his solid chest, and he catches me doing a double take. In the end, I stare at a tree over his shoulder because his body is too damn tempting.

  I don’t move when he stops in front of me and leans forward, my breath catching in my throat. What is he going to do? But he reaches for the door handle and pulls open the passenger door.

  “Get in,” he orders in a low voice, and I duck under his arm to climb into the seat. The door shuts and he stalks around and folds himself behind the wheel.

  The engine of the Subaru growls when Max fires it up, and he slowly eases toward the starting line. Three other cars line up, all drivers who I recognize vaguely, but most of them are younger.

  “Are you not getting a bit old for this?” I ask as I look at the younger drivers.

  He leans over and takes my hand, forcing me to look at him when all the fine hairs stand on end as tingles spread up my arm.

  “You’re only as old as the woman you feel.”

  I stifle a laugh. “That makes you about sixteen,” I joke and bite my lip when he glares at me.

  “They’re all college age,” he grinds out and presses his foot on the gas and revs the engine. Beth stands with the cap in her hand. Even though Aaron isn’t racing, it is still her duty. Especially as Max appears to have any number of girlfriends, he would be hard pushed to pick just one to stand up there and start the race.

  “You ready.”

  “Of course.” I manage to sound disinterested while inside my stomach flips with excitement as the adrenaline starts to course through my veins. My breath quickens slightly and I find myself leaning forward in my seat a little. The foot that would normally hover over the accelerator twitches as if I were the one in the driver’s seat.

  The cap drops and all four cars charge forward, engines growling, with a squeal of tires. Max pulls away with ease and inches ahe
ad of the others. A thrill of excitement passes through me and my stomach clenches. He’s going to win. Not that there was any doubt in my mind; of course, now he’ll be even more unbearable.

  The Subaru reaches the finish line first, but instead of applying the brakes and finishing with a flourish, Max keeps on going, pushing the car harder and faster than he did when he was racing. We fly along the dark roads at breakneck speed. At this moment, I should be terrified, but I’m not; I’m exhilarated and beginning to wonder if there really is something wrong with me. Anyone else would be shit scared at this point and screaming at him to stop driving like a lunatic. But no, I sit quietly and watch with begrudging admiration as he handles the car with a silent confidence.

  Every turn is well practiced and executed to perfection. Every shift is well timed to get maximum power, and not once do I feel that he is out of control. The only sign that I am affected by the speed at which he’s driving is the way my breathing speeds up. Watching him drive like this is a turn on.

  The car clings to the tarmac on a long, curving stretch of road. There is a sheer drop on one side, and Max is dangerously close to the edge, but I’m not worried. It’s like some sixth sense is telling me that he would never put me in danger, and even more bizarrely, I trust him, completely.

  The winding road levels out high above the town and in complete darkness. It ends abruptly with a metal barrier the only warning before it drops off, the quarry lying below. Max eases his foot off the gas and the car begins to slow as he tests me, to see if I’ll freak out as the car gets closer to the edge. But I sit still, hands clasped in my lap as though I was out for a Sunday drive after church. We near the barrier before he brakes and skids the car, bringing it to a well-timed stop. Not once was he out of control, and maybe that’s why I felt safe. That and, even though I hate to admit it, he is a fucking good driver. He knows these roads like the back of his hand even in the dark.

  The Subaru stops short of the barrier, and we can see the cars belonging to the racers and spectators start to leave, the faint beat of hip-hop in the distance. Cars start to file out one after the other and those who are old enough will head to The Three Monkeys, while those who aren’t will head to someone’s house to drink beer that an older brother has bought them or they’ve stolen from their parents. A few will head to make out central, the other hot spot that the town has to offer, and well… make out.

  Max kills the engine, and we both sit there in silence. Well, almost silence; I try to control my embarrassingly loud breathing.

  “You can’t keep avoiding me. Not now that we work together.”

  “I’m not-”

  “Bullshit.” He turns to me, and I feel the weight of his stare. “Remind me again why you hate me so much.”

  “I don’t hate you.” Because I don’t. I’m not sure what I feel for him, but it certainly isn’t hate. “You just annoy the hell out of me.”

  He laughs wickedly. “You give as good as you get.”

  “What choice do I have?” I huff with exasperation.

  “You could try being nicer to me,” he suggests, and I hear a hint of a sulk in his voice.

  “Right back atcha.”

  “Always so defensive.”

  “Fuck off,” I grumble, and this is the way our exchanges always go. He pushes and pushes me until I snap and tell him to fuck off. He leaves my head spinning and unable to function properly.

  Laughing harder, he asks, “How’ve you been, anyway?”

  This throws me for a loop. “Excuse me?” And I wonder with suspicion what he is getting at.

  “I’m making small talk. It’s what people do when they’re not insulting each other.”

  “Fine.” I’m not sure what else to tell him; there isn’t actually much else to tell him.

  “How’s work?”

  Now I turn to glare at him. What the hell is he playing at? “Fine.”

  “Is that all you can say?” His mouth curves into a smile.

  “What the fuck, Max?” I throw my hands in the air in surrender, and I just wish he would tell me what he wants.

  “Apart from that.”

  With a huff, I cross my arms and glare out the windscreen, like a truculent child, which is exactly how he always manages to make me feel.

  Not giving up, he persists. “Your dad says you work in an office.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Doing what?”

  “You know, office stuff.” I shrug because there isn’t much more to it. “It pays the bills.”

  “Sounds boring and … safe.” He says it with distaste.

  “To someone like you, I suppose it is.”

  “Some like me?” he repeats, the distaste in his voice more pronounced.

  “Yeah, someone who takes unnecessary risks.”

  “You don’t fool me, Storm.” I grit my teeth in annoyance, but his smile grows. “You loved every second of it. Your heart was racing, and your breathing picked up. It turns you on, and I bet your panties are soaking wet.”

  With a gasp, I spin around to glare at him. “You’re a dick.”

  Annoyingly, he chuckles. “Maybe I am, but I remember what it was like to have you squirming with pleasure underneath me. Wet and turned on while I was fucking you. That look on your face when you came.”

  I suck in a breath, outraged at what he is saying, but turned on even more.

  “Kind of how you look just now.”

  “Bastard,” I hiss, but it just makes him laugh harder.

  “Want me to refresh your memory?”

  I turn to face him, my cheeks flushed with anger. Or is it lust? I don’t know anymore.

  “In your fucking dreams,” I growl at him.

  “Every fucking night, babe. Every night.” His smirk grows, and I really have to fight the urge to cause him some bodily harm.

  “I told you. We are not happening again. You were a manwhore before I left, and I’m betting you’re an even bigger one now.” My breath is ragged, and I am shaking with temper.

  Our faces are somehow inches apart, and his smile slips a notch. Even in the darkness, I see the flash of anger in his eyes.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “Whatever, Max. I have never been interested in being one of your hook ups, and I never will be. Despite what happened in the past.”

  A low growl is the only warning I get before his mouth claims mine. His hand fists in the back of my hair and his hot tongue enters my mouth. At the first stroke, I lean into the kiss with a loud moan. My palms rest on the leg that is angled toward me. I slide one near his crotch and don’t stop until it brushes over the erection squashed in his jeans. Without thinking of the consequences, my fingers trace the outline through the denim. Max growls deep in the back of his throat and nips at the corner of my lips, trailing his mouth down my neck. The heat of his breath on my already too hot skin ignites a burning need deep inside me and I arch into him. With his free hand, he slides it down my side, over the curve of my breast and down to my waist. My whole body aches for his touch and when his hand disappears under my top and cups my breast through the lace of my bra, I grip his thighs as I melt under his touch.

  I can’t get enough of him and am practically sitting on his lap in the front seat of his car. Deft fingers unbutton the top two buttons as he kisses lower, heading toward my breasts that are being revealed with each button he undoes. All I see when I look down is the top of his head and dark hair that is begging to be pulled. So I do. My fingers delve into it and grip it tightly. Somewhere in my foggy brain, I know that as soon as his lips make contact with my nipple, it is game over, and I will be putty in his hands. A minute ago, I was fighting with him, and now I am kissing him like I’m some sex-starved lunatic. Which is quite possibly a good description of me right now.

  I pull on his hair harder, and his head rises to look at me, no doubt wondering why I’ve stopped him.

  “Stop.” My voice is embarrassingly breathless and lacks a certain amount of conviction. He
leans toward me to claim my lips again, but I press my hand against his chest.

  “This can’t happen, Max. Please take me back for my bike.” I bite my lip to stop myself from letting him kiss me. He regards me for a long minute, as if trying to weigh how far he can push me and whether he should try it or not. Even if he did try it, I don’t think I would put up much of a fight.

  Deciding not to push it, he releases me and pulls back. Two hands run through his hair and down his face before he turns to the front and starts up the Subaru. I am left feeling like the villain at stopping what might have been an even bigger mistake. As much I try to deny it, I enjoyed being in his arms and having him kiss me like he needed it to survive.

  The drive back to town is much slower and sedate. Max doesn’t say a word, and after throwing me a couple of furtive glances, he doesn’t look in my direction again. It makes me feel worse; I know he’s mad at me, and for once, this bothers me. After all the years we’ve spent throwing insults at each other and staring daggers at each other, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him genuinely mad—certainly not with me—and I feel like crap. As if I’ve wounded him.

  Even when we pull up outside Beth’s house, he doesn’t say a word; he just sits staring straight ahead with the engine idling, waiting for me to climb out of the car.

  “Thanks for bringing me here.” No answer and he refuses to look at me. “I… uh… I’ll catch you later.” A curt nod is all I get and I scramble out of the car and run over to my bike. I expect to hear a roar of his engine as he pulls away and speeds down the road, but it never comes. It occurs to me then that he is waiting to make sure I get my bike started okay or something.

  I pull on my helmet, mount the bike, and fire up the engine. Slowly, I walk it down the drive and raise my hand at Max before driving down the street at a much slower speed than usual. The headlights in my mirrors stay with me until I reach my house, and once I’ve pulled into the drive, I see Max’s car continue down the street. I stand and watch until the taillights disappear before I head inside.

  Even though I know stopping our kiss from going further was the right thing to do, I feel empty inside. Like I did something wrong and hurt him. Maybe I was a bit harsh and shouldn’t have said those things. But when I’m around him, I get all… argh, I don’t know what, but I end up saying things that I know will annoy him.