Quarter Mile Hearts

by Jenny Siegel

  “Once around the track, and winner takes all,” he says in a lazy voice, as if we are all boring him already.

  “Wait, what?” Max grabs his arm to stop him from walking away. Zach looks down at Max’s hand in disgust before bringing his gaze upwards. They flash with anger, but it is nothing compared to the unadulterated rage that is burning in Max’s, making them almost glow.

  “The deal was a quarter-mile race,” Max points out, his voice tight with anger.

  “Thought this would make it more interesting.” His beady eyes fix on Max.

  “And dangerous.”

  “If you don’t think your girlfriend is up to it, she can back away now, run back to wherever it is she’s been hiding for the last four years, and let the rest of us get on with it.”

  Aaron appears at my elbow and mutters under his breath, “Don’t let him goad you.”

  Zach’s words mildly annoy me, but I’m not letting the likes of him intimidate me.

  “I’ll do the lap.” I speak up, my voice unwavering, and throw in a glare for good measure.

  Aaron drops his head forward. “Oh man,” he mutters.

  Max dips his head and presses a kiss to my temple. “How did I know you were going to say that?” But he gives me a smile of admiration; he knows I have to do this.

  Zach’s icy stare bores into me, and I don’t think he was actually expecting me to agree, or maybe he was just trying to rattle me even more. He moves to walk away, but Max stops him again. He spins around and Max squares up to him, bringing them nose to nose, equal in height and in muscle.

  “Anything happens to her and I’m coming for you,” he threatens in a low voice, and Zach pales a little before yanking his arm out of Max’s grasp and marches over to Tate and his other friends.

  Aaron grabs me in a hug that crushes my bones. “Good luck, cuz,” he mumbles into my hair before releasing me quickly and slams down the hood.

  I reach for Max who stands beside me. “Max, I…”

  “Listen…” He turns to face me, gripping my shoulders. “He’s done this on purpose; he knows that you don’t know the track and that you only prepared for a quarter-mile race. I’ve been here with Causey before, so listen up. The track is 2.5 miles long. There are nine turns; count them off as you go. I’m not going into all of them, but they will all test you.”

  “I’ve never been around a track like this.”

  “You know what to do, just go with your instinct. I’ve seen how you drive and why you don’t need a computer to tell you when to change gear.”

  “But…”

  “The fastest stretch is after turn five. Don’t let him get the better of you there. I reckon your car is lighter, so you might be able to use it to your advantage. Turn eight is the fastest. There’s a dip before the apex on turn nine, it is crucial you get a good line on the last one. Make sure you speed up as you come out of it, then floor it down the straight.”

  My brain is frantically trying to take all this in, and if I wasn’t freaked out before, I certainly am now. Panic is bubbling way too close to the surface, and I need to keep a lid on it.

  “Okay, anything else?”

  “Here, put this on.” He holds up a crash helmet, and I back away.

  “No fucking way am I wearing a helmet.”

  “You are wearing a helmet.” We glare at each other, neither one of us wanting to back down until his eyes soften. “For me.” Dammit. There is no way I can refuse him now.

  “Fine, but just ‘cause it’s you.” He smiles, now that I’ve relented, and holds the helmet above my head. I pull the band out of my hair and look up at him.

  “I’m scared,” I whisper, and his face breaks into a genuine smile, like the first time he smiled at me, and my heart stutters.

  Max sets the helmet down and cups my jaw in both hands. “Don’t be. You can do this.”

  “Can I?” I search his face for any sign, but all I see is his usual confidence.

  “You can.” I nod, slightly more reassured, and he picks up the helmet. But before he slips it over my head, he pauses and presses his lips to mine. My hands fist in his t-shirt as I pull his body closer to mine. When our kiss ends, he touches his forehead to mine and looks deep into me.

  A wide smile spreads across his face. “I love you.”

  “You love me,” I repeat, still not used to hearing those words.

  “Yes, now go and beat that dickhead.” He pushes the helmet down on top of my head and holds open the door for me. Once I’m inside, he fastens my harness.

  “Good luck, Storm.” And then he’s out the car, closing the door firmly behind him. But I just sit there, trying to get my scrambled brain into order. Max Morgan telling me that he loves me still hasn’t sunk in yet. Why didn’t I tell him how I feel? I’ve known it all along but ran away from it, ran away from him. But I’m done running and done hiding that I love him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Max winks at me one last time before he moves over to the side to stand beside Aaron. I glance over at Zach who sneers as always. He’s such a dick. I give him the finger, and his eyes narrow. Yeah, maybe not the brightest move. I’ve just pissed him off even more.

  There are lights to start us off, but in my head, I see Sugar, how she was the last time I raced, standing in front of us with a scarf tied around her neck and the ball cap raised high above her head. Making sure we are ready before she starts the race. Now I have to focus on the lights in front of me. I rev the engine, getting ready for the moment that the light turns green and I can slip the clutch and hopefully make a faster getaway than Zach, although now I feel slightly unprepared. Once around the track wasn’t the deal, but he’s done it to rattle me.

  My hands grip the steering wheel tighter as I rev the car, coiled and ready for the green light.

  Red.

  Yellow.

  Green.

  I am on auto pilot and don’t think anymore as I let go of the brake and the Camaro moves off the line. Even I know it’s the best start I’ve pulled off, but I keep my eyes to the front, trying not to look for Zach or see how close he is. The first corner comes into sight and I drift into it, still on a high from such a good start. A surge of adrenaline shoots through me as I complete the first turn and head into the second. A quick check in my mirror shows Zach is close behind and gaining as I come out of turn two. The next section is fast approaching and my mind goes blank as cold panic grips me. What is coming next? This is what I get for agreeing to these stupid bets. That prick, Zach Anderson; no doubt he knows this track like the back of his hand, but I’m going in blind. I can’t shake the feeling of terror and everything I’ve learned or practiced goes out the window.

  As I go into the next turn, I know I’ve totally fucked it up, and the line is all wrong. Meanwhile, Zach weaves behind me, looking for any opportunity to overtake my car. I’m jerked forward when he clips my back bumper as he pulls out, and I struggle to keep control of the car. Mild panic becomes blind panic as the fear starts to spread through me. Maybe it won’t just be the race I lose. Prepared for that happening, Zach takes his chance and pulls in front. That cheating bastard. He takes the lead.

  Fuck.

  Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I follow Zach into the next turn. Number four, is it? I’ve lost count, and all the while I’m trying to remember what Max said about the last two turns. They were the most crucial, and my mind’s gone blank because I’m fucking terrified. I need to get through the others first without Zach getting too far in front.

  Fear claws at me and I’m finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. What is wrong with me? Get a grip and drive. Isn’t that what Max told me to do? Just drive. He has confidence in me. Losing this race is not an option. I need to win. While I have my major freak-out, I’ve followed Zach through turn four, and we’re now approaching turn five. I really need to pull something out of the bag. And soon. I’m running out of time. I can’t lose this, can’t lose to Zach, and more importantly, I can’t lose the garage
.

  Now I am riding Zach’s bumper as I follow his line through turn five. I need to get past him. My crippling nerves have abated slightly now that I have made up my mind to take him after turn six. Adrenaline starts to pump through my bloodstream as I follow him into turn six. I’m running out of time; I need to go for it now, and I press down on the throttle. I’ve had enough of this, and I continue to weave back and forth, but he blocks my attempts at overtaking. Frustration starts to mount along with the panic that has returned with a vengeance. We’re coming up to turn seven, which is a slight bend in the track.

  After that are the two most crucial turns, and I’m stuck riding his fucking bumper. Grim determination spurs me on. Fuck this for a laugh. I pull back slightly and create some space between us, shift down a gear and then floor it as I pull out behind him. Whether I take him by surprise or he’s not expecting me to go for it at this late stage, I don’t know, but I as I start to draw level, he realizes what’s happening and jerks to the side, trying to run me off the track. I accelerate harder while all regard for my safety goes out the window. I’ve fucked up his line, but I make the turn and accelerate, getting back up to speed as fast as I can and pull in front.

  Don’t screw this up..

  What did Max say about turn eight being the fastest? Fuck, I can’t remember. I grip the steering wheel and keep my foot pressed on the accelerator as I take the right hand corner at speed. Wow, that was fast. Now there’s only turn nine left. I change down and feel the dip right before the apex. When I come out of the turn, I floor it and barrel down the straight, pushing the V8 engine as hard as I can, squeezing every bit of horsepower out of the Camaro. To my elation, I cross the line seconds ahead of Zach and slow down, finally braking before bringing it to a complete halt.

  Zach slows his car to a halt near me, his face is like thunder, and he gives me a filthy look that sends a shiver of fear through me. This isn’t the last I’ve seen or heard from Zach Anderson. But, for now, I can’t respond. I sit there, rooted to the spot, unable to process it. After all the self-doubt and worry, I won.

  Oh, my fucking god. I won.

  Zach turns his car and heads back to starting line, but I sit immobile, shaking slightly as the adrenaline rush subsides and the enormity of what I’ve done sinks in. Max yanks open my door and I notice his hands shake as he fumbles with the harness, cursing it for being so damn complicated. He is out of breath; his chest heaving and his eyes sparkle with excitement as he hauls me out of the car to stand in front of him. Gently, he pulls the helmet off my head and tosses it onto the driver’s seat. Dark eyes search mine, a whole myriad of emotions flitting across them.

  “You did it,” he breathes.

  “I did it.” I still can hardly believe it. His lips brush against mine, and he pulls back, dropping his hands to take hold of mine before pulling me into his body and wrapping his arms around me. Warm lips find mine as his tongue slides over mine. He backs me up until I feel the body of the Camaro at my back and I tilt my pelvis into him. A groan of pleasure travels from the back of his throat and reverberates down my body.

  “Break it up, you two.” Aaron rushes over and squeezes between us, pulling me into a hug. “Knew you could do it, cuz.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “You had a great start. Zach’s wheel spun but then he caught you on the second turn.”

  “I didn’t think I would get past him.”

  “Bold move, taking him like that,” Aaron adds, giving me an admiring glance. “You did well.”

  “Did you bet on me?”

  He pulls back and has the nerve to look wounded. “No, would I do that?”

  “Yes,” Max and I blurt out at the same time.

  He frowns as though I’ve offended him with my accusations before a wide smile spreads across his face. “I didn’t but Ryder did it for me. Cleaned up as well.”

  “Well, you do have a baby on the way.” I nudge him, and he jumps out of the way.

  “Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.” He starts to jog back to the bleachers, leaving us to climb back into the car, and I drive back to the starting line.

  Beth rushes over and she grabs me, jumping around on the spot.

  “You had us worried.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Zach is nowhere to be seen. According to Beth, he roared off in his Evo, leaving Tate to follow in the Challenger. I spot Tom Anderson make his way over to Dad and shake his hand. I shield my eyes against the sun, and I wouldn’t say that Tom looks happy, but he’s not got a face on him like his son. Dad, on the other hand, looks relieved.

  “Celebration at The Three Monkeys,” Aaron calls to me as he and Beth climb into his truck. I nod and wait for Max. He’s talking to my dad and the two of them approach. Dad holds out his arms, and I launch myself at him, forgetting for a minute that he is still healing, but he doesn’t seem to care. He grips me tightly.

  “Thanks,” he says gruffly and makes a funny sound in the back of the throat.

  “Anytime.” I feel myself choking up too, and I hold on tighter.

  “I’m proud of you,” he mumbles, and I have to bite my lip to stop from crying but nod instead.

  “Right, enough of this sappy crap. I’ll see you two at The Three Monkeys.”

  “See you there.” Max nods and waits by the car for me while I give my dad a quick kiss on the cheek and run over to Max.

  “You drive.” I toss the keys over the roof to him and climb into the passenger side.

  • • •

  The celebrations are well underway by the time we arrive at The Three Monkeys, and a huge cheer goes up when I walk in the door. Slightly embarrassed but also touched that so many people are here, I hold my hands up in a self-deprecating gesture. Uncle Pat hands me a beer and one for Max and we make our way over to a table where Beth and Aaron are sitting.

  People pat me on the back and say well done as we pass. I’m not used to so much attention.

  “Will we see you at the quarter mile tonight?” Ryder asks as he and Kyle sit down at our table. Max tenses slightly and I reach under the table to run my hand over his leg.

  “Nope, my racing days are over.”

  “But...” Kyle starts, and I cut him off.

  “I’m not a racer. I only did it so we didn’t lose the garage. Now that’s over with…” They start to grumble about how they could clean up on bets, but I tune them out. Max hasn’t said a word, his dark eyes watch me as the muscle in his jaw flexes.

  “I’ll be right back.” He slides out from his seat and heads over to the bar. I leave the guys talking about racing tonight and make my way over to the jukebox. It seems a lifetime ago that Max had me pinned to this jukebox on my first night back. So much has changed since then, but I think it’s only me who’s changed because everything else looks the same. Before I was so desperate to escape, and now... well, now I’m desperate to stay. I lean against the jukebox and watch them all.

  Dad and Maria are together—kissing—which is actually pretty gross, so I avert my eyes. Beth and Aaron are together as always, her sitting on his lap, his arm protectively around her stomach and the adoration and love that shines in their eyes chokes me up. I have to look away because seeing them together causes a rush of emotion and makes me crave that. But then I see Max watching me from the other side of the bar while he stands waiting for our drinks. And I melt. There is something else in his gaze when it meets mine. It’s still sinfully wicked and bad, and he still makes my insides clench with just that one look. A smile that curves over his mouth, as though he wants to eat me up, but I see something else in his eyes and it undoes me. It makes my heart double beat.

  As if I didn’t have enough reasons to stay, Max has given me one more, a pretty big reason. All this time, I was fighting how I feel about him, how I’ve always felt about him, and now I know he feels the same. He isn’t bothered about racing. He would have taken my place, not for the adrenaline rush or the kick, but to keep anything from happening to me. I’d s
ay he’s definitely worth sticking around for.

  With one hand braced against the jukebox, I take my time with my selection, the corners of my mouth twitch as a song catches my eye. Without hesitation, I punch in the number. “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” by The Clash sounds over the speakers. Before I can move away from the jukebox, the fine hairs on the back of my neck tingle and the familiar smell of Armani reaches my nostrils. A strong arm wraps around my waist, and I look down to see a tanned forearm and smile as Max’s hard body presses up behind me, his even harder dick brushing against my backside. He moves the hair away from my neck and brushes a kiss across the back of it. Electricity tingles down my spine as his lips follow my hairline to my ear.

  “You wanna get out of here?” A tremor works its way through my body with his husky voice, and I nod.

  Turning me around, his thigh nudges between mine as he bears down on me; his dark eyes sizzle with more than just lust or desire. I see the love that burns brightly there. How have I never noticed it before?

  “Are you trying to tell me something?” he asks, a sly smile playing over his lips.

  “I guess.”

  “You drive me fucking crazy. You know that?” He brings his forehead down to rest on mine. “So, are you staying or are you going?” His lips find the column of my neck as he trails the tip of his tongue down, stopping at the curve of my neck.

  “Hmm...”

  With a groan of frustration, he pulls back to watch me through dark hooded eyes and that sultry look dampens my panties and makes my core ache for him in a way I didn’t think was possible.

  “Do you need me to persuade you?”

  I nod slowly. “I think you should.” Leaning back so my head rests against the jukebox, his lips seal over mine. Gently at first, his tongue teases mine until I grab his head with the back of my hand and press him to me. His solid body presses tantalizingly into mine, and I feel his erection on my thigh. My hands roam down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, and I loop my fingers over, brushing against his smooth, warm skin. Max cups my face and pulls back a fraction. Eyes searching mine for any indication of what I’m thinking.