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Quarter Mile Hearts

Page 21

by Jenny Siegel


  He gives me a sharp look. “Are you listening?”

  “I do know what to do, you know.”

  “Okay, smarty pants. Have at it.” He backs out of the car and slams the door a little too hard, walking away with his arms out at his side and shaking his head.

  Shit, I’ve succeeded in pissing him off.

  Shaking it off, I start the engine and jiggle the gear stick before sliding it into first and pressing down on the accelerator, slipping the clutch. I release the handbrake and start off down the quarter mile. When I reach the finish line, I brake, turn, and drive back up. Max, Aaron, and Beth lean against the truck and I roll the window down, looking at each of them. Aaron shakes his head.

  “Not fast enough. Zach will leave you in the dust.” I give him the finger and line the Camaro up for another try. That one is worse; Aaron doesn’t even need to say anything, it’s written over his face. Max hasn’t moved from his spot, his arms folded over his chest, and his feet crossed at the ankle. After a third attempt, I’m even more annoyed. At myself. I need to nail this; too much depends on it. After a struggle to get out of this fucking harness, I throw open the door and march over to Max. Mirroring his angry stance.

  “Come on, then. Don’t hold back,” I demand, and we stand glaring at each other. Beth and Aaron shift uneasily and look anywhere but at the two of us.

  “You’re spinning your wheels and wasting vital seconds. It will cost you the race. You’re pressing down on the accelerator too much.”

  “He’s right. You’ve got to watch that,” Aaron adds.

  “You have to get the throttle just right,” Max supplies, his tone softening, and he pushes off the truck. “You just need to get more familiar with the car; you’re used to riding a bike. Go again.” He wraps an arm around me and leads me back over to the car and climbs into the passenger seat beside me.

  “I can’t do this stupid harness.” I groan in frustration and bang off the headrest. With a chuckle, he leans over and buckles me in. Clipping himself into his harness, he sits back.

  “Go.” I shoot him a look of confusion. “Press the throttle,” he instructs, and I do as he says, watching the needle move higher. “Now slip the clutch.” When I feel the car wanting to move, I drop the handbrake and move off the line. The engine growls, and I listen to it, keeping an eye on the rev counter and changing through the gears as I race down the road. When I cross the line, I brake and bring the car to a halt before turning and heading back to Beth and Aaron.

  Aaron has a smile on his face when I pull over. “Best yet.”

  “Again,” Max commands, and I do as I’m told and line her up. We drive it a few more times until Max decides we’ve done enough for tonight.

  “It’s been a long day. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

  Aaron and Beth hug me before they climb into the truck and drive off. Max hangs back, resting on the hood, watching me.

  “How you feelin’?” Max asks, watching me closely.

  “Nervous.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “You think? In my head, I can do it, but I don’t know. Tonight was an eye-opener. Maybe I don’t have what it takes.”

  “Of course, you do, Storm.”

  “What if I don’t?” The enormity of what I’m about to do is starting to sink in. Closing his eyes, he runs a hand over his face. He looks tired; we all are. We’ve put in crazy hours in the garage, and when I’m not there, it’s all I think about.

  “Let me race,” he says softly. My head snaps to the side, eyes widening with horror as icy panic grips me.

  “No way. What if something happens to you?”

  “What if something happens to you,” he implores.

  I shake my head defiantly. “If I don’t race, all bets are off. You know that.” His shoulders sag with defeat. “I know, but I can’t stand you putting yourself in danger.” I reach for his hand and lace my fingers with his. “I won’t let anything tear us apart, not Zach or the outcome of this race.” The vehemence in his voice helps to ease my worry.

  • • •

  The last two days are spent fine-tuning the car. Aaron fits new tires and tweaks the suspension. At night, I practice at the quarter mile. Max is as critical as ever, but I need to hear it. Every time he tells me that I’ve done something else wrong and makes me try again, I grit my teeth and do as he says. Sometimes, I get away really fast but other times the tires spin and I waste time. Maybe I’m starting to feel the pressure because I’ve never had this problem before, but then I’ve never had so much riding on a race before.

  The night before the race, Max and I go to the quarter mile alone. He told Aaron to take Beth home and get an early night, too; there’s a lot to do tomorrow. The look of relief on Aaron’s face said it all. I think the pressure is getting to him as well. Everyone is tense, and I’ll be glad when this is over with, and we can get back to normal. If I win. If I don’t… well, I can’t even think about it.

  By the third run, I’m tired and making stupid mistakes, not to mention the serious doubts I’m having about whether I can do this.

  “Last try then we call it a night.” I could kiss him for saying that, but it can wait until after this run. I line the car up and glance over at him to check he’s ready. He gives me a curt nod, and I press down on the throttle, readying the car. I slip the clutch and floor it, taking off down the quarter mile and over the finish line.

  “Better.” He smiles when I stop the car past the finish line.

  I put the car in gear ready to drive us to the garage, but he stops me. “Storm.” I can’t help smile at the sound of my nickname falling from his lips; it does something to me every time, and I look at him expectantly. “There’s… ah… I’ve got something I want to give you.” His hand slips into his pocket and he pulls out a little pouch.

  “What is it?” I ask a little wary, not sure what to expect. Something for luck? He holds out his hand, a gold band entwined into an infinity knot lying in his palm.

  “It was my grandmother’s; she gave it to me and told me to give it to someone special.” He twists it round in the palm of his hand. “I’ve kept it, waiting for that person. Now I know it’s you who I’ve been waiting for. I would have given it to you four years ago if I thought you would have stayed. But I didn’t and I’ve had it all this time, just waiting for a second chance to ask you not to leave and stay here with me.” My hands fly to cover my mouth and muffle the small cry that I can’t hold in. Tears flood my eyes as I take in his earnest expression and his heartfelt words.

  “Oh, Max.” I reach for him, as best as I can in this stupid harness, and he releases the catch so he can hold me. The tears roll down my face. I thought he was a bad boy racer, but I’ve been wrong about him all this time. He holds me tighter, arms wrapped around me in the same way as he’s wrapped himself around my heart. Gingerly, I take it from him and slide it onto my finger.

  “I want you to have it, even if you don’t stay.” He cradles my face, tilting it up to look at him and brushes a kiss over my lips. “Let’s go; you need to get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” I nod, and he releases me so I can drive us home.

  We swap cars at the garage and lock the Camaro inside. Max drives me home and I reach for him before I get out of the car.

  “Thank you.” I press a kiss to his lips and climb out the car. He waits until I close the door before I hear the GTO rumble down the drive and take off down the street.

  Deep down, I know what I want; I’ve known for a while but the worry about my dad and this race has consumed my every thought. Once it’s over, I will tell him. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type out a quick email and hit send before I turn it off and drag my weary body to bed. Time to start tying up lose ends.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The bed feels empty without Max when I wake the next morning. With a groan, I pull the covers over my head in a bid to go back to sleep but someone has other plans. The front door slams and heavy footsteps make their way up
the stairs. Who the fuck is making all that noise? Then my door swings open and Max’s large frame fills the doorway, a frantic look in his eyes.

  “Why the hell aren’t you up yet?”

  “I’m tired.” I rub my eyes and lie back down.

  “You look like crap.” He pushes off the doorframe and stalks over to the sit down on the bed.

  “Thanks.”

  “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” I stifle another yawn.

  “Why not?”

  I shrug and roll over onto my side, pulling the covers up around my ears.

  “No, no, no, Storm, you need to get up. We have to be at the track in an hour.” He reaches for the bed covers and I sit upright and struggle to get out of bed. Max groans loudly and drops his head in his hands.

  “Seriously, do you need to walk around dressed like that?”

  I look down at my tank top and panties. “What? I was in bed.”

  “I know and now all I want to do is take you back to bed.” He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration.

  “I’d like that, too.” I straddle his lap and press my body flush against his. Bringing my lips crashing down on his, I let my tongue explore his mouth.

  He lets out another groan, deep in my mouth. It rumbles through me and he stands, dropping me onto my feet.

  “We’ve got a race to win.” He smacks me on the ass and walks toward the door. Pausing in the doorway, he turns around. “You’ve got five minutes. See you downstairs.” He winks and closes the door behind him.

  Once I’ve found clean underwear, I grab my jeans that are lying on the floor at the bottom of my bed and pull on a shirt that is lying on the chair. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I wash my face and brush my teeth before running downstairs. Dad and Max are in the kitchen, talking tactics and strategy. I tune them out because it makes me too nervous to think about.

  “Breakfast?” Dad offers.

  “Nuh-uh.” The butterflies are having a fit inside my stomach, and I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. But I take a banana and pour myself a cup of coffee. Too restless to sit down, I hover at the kitchen counter as they continue to talk strategies.

  “We’ll see you at the track.” Max rises from his chair and looks expectantly at me. “We’re meeting Aaron to pick up the Camaro and drive it to the drag strip.” I nod and dump the last of my coffee down the sink.

  “See you there.” I lean down and hug my dad. He grips me tighter and hugs me longer than he usually would.

  “Good luck, Storm.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper back, feeling choked with emotion, and follow Max out.

  • • •

  Aaron is already at the garage when we arrive; the car is ready and waiting. Beth is in the passenger seat of his truck but climbs down when she sees me and pulls me into a hug. It takes me by surprise when she squeezes me tightly, but I return it with a tight squeeze of my own.

  “Be careful,” she says sternly, but I hear the quiver in her voice. “Zach is crazy. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and pull some kind of stunt. His dad was there when your uncle was killed and when Hank had his accident. Just promise me that you’ll be careful.” Getting all worked up in her condition is not good, but I hold her tighter as I promise.

  “I will.”

  When we walk over to the car, Aaron is loading spare tires, first aid kit, plus other safety equipment onto the back of his truck. My eyes flick up to meet his, and he offers me a half smile and a shrug. I resist saying anything but seeing the safety gear hasn’t settled my nerves. If anything, it’s made them worse.

  “We all set?” Max asks, his tone brusque and all business.

  “See you there,” Beth says and huddles into Aaron’s side. We stand and look at each other, knowing that we’ve done all we can and things might be very different after the race.

  “Group hug?” Aaron breaks the silence, holding his arms wide.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I grumble but let him pull me in for one. Amusement dances in Max’s eyes at my reluctance, but once I’m drawn into it, I close my eyes and relax. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for what they have done for me. This is what it feels like to know that someone has your back. Someone who you can rely on and trust. I’ve missed that since I’ve been away, and the years spent away from them have been pretty lonely. I had a life here, and I left it behind so easily, without a second thought.

  “Right; that’s enough of the sappy stuff. We’ve got a race to get to.” I duck out from the jumble of arms and stalk over to the Camaro, discreetly wiping away my tears with the heel of my hand.

  Aaron and Beth leave while I’m wrestling with the harness and Max climbs in. Slamming the door, he leans over with a chuckle and patiently puts the pieces together so it all clicks it into place.

  “You know you love it.” The closeness of his hands to my body sends chills through me. My head fills with inappropriate thoughts when I should be concentrating on the upcoming race.

  “Love what?” For a second, I think he means him touching me. Which I do.

  “Aaron’s group hugs.”

  “Whatever.” I can’t manage the eye roll, and I laugh at him.

  “You do. Beneath that tough exterior, you’re a softie.”

  “I’ll show you what a softie I am, Max Morgan, when I knee you in the balls.” But, of course, I don’t mean it.

  “You missed them; more than you’ll ever admit.” He watches me, waiting for a reaction. I turn to him, cupping his stubbled jaw, and brush my lips against his.

  “I missed you, too.” His eyes widen in surprise; his mouth parts, and I seize my opportunity to swipe my tongue over his. “Let's go.” I pull back and laugh at the stunned expression on his face. He still hasn’t moved when I start the engine and pull out of the lot heading for the track.

  • • •

  For the duration of the drive to the track, my body swings between feeling excited about the race and beating Zach Anderson to waves of panic that wash over me and make me want to vomit. What I’m doing is crazy; almost as crazy as my dad getting us into this mess. This is why I left town, to get away from it, but I was wrong about a lot of things then. I was wrong about Max; he’s not just another racer, who would put racing cars and crazy bets before me. Nothing he’s done since I’ve come back shows that. He’s not the player I thought he was and he’s been there for me this whole time. If anything, I’ve hurt him by going out of my way to avoid him every time I came home. All he’s asking for is for me to take a chance on him, on us. To stay and see where this goes.

  “What are you smiling about?” He interrupts my train of thought.

  “Nothing. I’m happy.” I smile because, I could get used to this feeling.

  His forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Because you’re going to race?”

  “No. I’m happy because you’re here with me.” I reach over and lace my fingers through his. He smiles widely and squeezes my hand. Looking down, he turns my hand so that my knuckles face upwards.

  “You’re wearing the ring,” he states, but his eyes light up when he looks at me.

  “Of course, I am.”

  “Does that mean you’re staying?”

  “Let’s just get this race over with.” I smile at him but his jaw tightens, and he nods.

  A few miles later, we arrive at the gates to the drag strip and spot Tate. I roll down the window and he bends down.

  “Down there, on the right, you’ll see them. Zach is waiting.” I nod and follow the road he’s indicated. It takes us to the racetrack and the starting line. Right away, I spot Zach and his chosen car, a black 1970 Dodge Challenger, with the hood up. Aaron has his head stuck under it.

  “He’s checking for modifications,” Max mutters, talking more to himself, and I manage a nod. The nerves are growing. This is real; I’m really going up against Zach Anderson. Beth was right; he’s mean. What the fuck was I thinking? Whatever made me thin
k that I could do this? Someone should have stopped me, although I can’t blame anyone; this was all me.

  The rumble of the Camaro’s V8 engine makes our presence known, and Zach looks up with an unpleasant smile stretching over his face.

  Oh, fucking hell.

  I grip the steering wheel tightly, and my palms slip. All color drains from my face as my heart rate picks up. But not in a good way. Not in the way Max makes it.

  “Breathe, Storm,” he instructs, and I force myself to take a breath as I pull up next to Zach’s Challenger, release the hood, and climb out.

  “Nice ride.” He nods at the Camaro. “And here I thought you’d go with an import.”

  “Nope, American muscle all the way.” I flash him a fake smile and pray I sound more confident than I feel. My insides have turned to jelly, and I want to collapse on the ground and wait there until it is all over.

  Zach makes a really irritating clicking sound in the back of his throat as he walks around the car and peers down at the engine. Max’s hand runs up and down my back, his touch soothing me while Zach continues to have a good poke around. Finally, he seems satisfied that we’ve not made any modifications and I’m not hiding any nitrous in the car. Even when he moves away, Aaron continues to fiddle with things, more to keep himself busy than anything else.

  As I look around and take stock of my surroundings, I notice a small crowd sitting in the bleachers. It didn’t occur to me that there would be anyone here other than us, but now as I scan the faces, I recognize Dad and Nurse McCartney, Ryder, Kyle, and even Causey and Sugar. It gives me a little boost that they would come to support me, but it also makes me more nervous. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zach approaching and stand a little straighter.

 

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