by Becca Steele
Early the following morning, before anyone else was up, I unlocked the door to the computer room and headed over to my desk. A bank of monitors faced me, most of them dark, but one was lit up and scrolling through our various security feeds. The other was flashing a message at me.
Analysis Complete
Thank fuck for Xenon. The program he’d written and sent to me was insane. It scanned all the hacked data, using various algorithms to flag up anything that could be classed as suspicious. While I could’ve gone through it all manually, the guy had thousands of emails and messages on his phone, and it would’ve taken me forever.
My headache returned as I started manually sifting through the flagged items. A blinking dot at the corner of the screen reminded me that I had an unread message from Mercury, and I logged in to our encrypted chat.
Mercury: WYR have a frog’s legs or a fly’s head?
A grin stretched over my face. I couldn’t remember who started it first, but in between all the tech shit we talked about, we’d somehow fallen into a habit of throwing these weird as fuck “would you rather” questions at each other at random times.
Me: WTF. How can I answer that?
Even though it was early, not even 6:00 a.m., he was online and replied straight away.
Mercury: Pick one
Me: You’re a sadist. OK frog legs I guess. I could hide them under clothes. You?
Mercury: Same. Could be useful
Me: Did Xenon send you the beta program?
Mercury: No. Dickhead wouldn’t give it up without a favour
Me: It’s good. Saving me fuckloads of time
Mercury: Is fuckloads a word?
Me: Are you the grammar police, hacker boy?
Mercury: Fuck off
Me: OK I’ve got one. WYR give up your phone or your computer?
Mercury: Damn. I’ll get back to you
I signed off, satisfied that I’d managed to stump him temporarily, and returned to sifting through the flagged data from Xenon’s program.
“Morning.” I was interrupted a while later by the door swinging open. Caiden stepped into the room, balancing a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. “Car day today.” He grinned at me, pleased.
“I know. It’s taken forever, but I’m glad it worked out. This car’s gonna be fucking beautiful.”
“But not as good as mine.” Smirking, he came to a stop next me and placed the mug and plate on my desk, pushing my keyboard back to make room.
“Mind the keyboard. It’s new.” I gave him a warning look, making him roll his eyes. “There’s no comparison with the cars. Mine’s far superior.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He pushed the plate towards me. “Breakfast. Eat.”
“Thanks.” I picked up the bagel, taking a large bite.
“You’re welcome. Wanna take our cars for a drive later? Mack’s—”
“Fuck, no. I’m not taking my new Aston Martin to that shit excuse for a racetrack. Have you seen the surface? There’s more potholes than…” I cast around for a comparison. “Something really potholey.”
He raised a brow. “Never took you for a snob.”
“I’m not a snob. Just don’t want to total my car the first day I get it.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Fair enough. Since you won’t race, we can agree that I win by default.”
“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.”
After an unsuccessful few hours sifting through Martin Smith’s data and finding nothing, not even a hint of anything shady, my mood was low, to say the least. The Uber ride to the garage passed in a blur. The cab driver made small talk, but I couldn’t even say what the conversation had been about.
As soon as we pulled up at the garage, I saw the DBS Superleggera in the centre of the forecourt, all matte-black paint and black rims. Finally, my mood improved. Temporarily forgetting my stresses, a huge smile spread across my face as I left the cab and headed straight for my new car, trailing my hand over the smooth metal surface.
Fuck, yeah.
Joe, the forecourt manager, came out to greet me, and I followed him into his office.
“Morning.” He took a seat behind his desk, shuffling his paperwork before he slid a slim folder across the surface. “Just these few bits to sign, then she’s all yours.” Handing me a pen, he sat back while I read through everything.
The paperwork was completed in a few minutes, since we’d done most of it before the respray, and finally, I had the keys in hand, and the Aston Martin was officially all mine.
At last.
“Take good care of her. She’s a beauty, mate.” Joe patted the top of my car. “Runs like a dream.”
“I will.”
Leaving the garage forecourt behind me, I grinned at the low rumble of the engine thrumming through my body and the barely harnessed power of the car under my hands. I needed to get this baby out on the open roads so I could see what it was made of. This had been a long time coming.
My phone rang as I was driving back towards Alstone, and Cassius’ voice came through the speakers.
“How’s the car?”
“Better than yours and Cade’s,” I told him, just to wind him up.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” I just knew he was rolling his eyes at me. He cleared his throat. “Can you do me a favour?”
“What is it?” I changed lanes smoothly, noticing the admiring glance of the driver of the car I overtook.
“Can you pick Lena up from school?”
Lena. I’d managed not to think about her, but lately it was growing difficult to ignore her. Now she was friends with Winter, and she’d been involved in the whole business with Winter’s mother…she’d been around a lot more often.
Too often.
I wasn’t fucking immune. I had eyes and a dick, both of which liked the view.
But I couldn’t think of her that way.
Cassius was still speaking. “Her car’s in the garage, and I said I’d pick her up, but I’ve got a meeting with my economics professor that I can’t get out of. The fucker just dropped it on me.” His displeasure was clear from his tone. “Sorry, mate. I know you just got your new car, but I can’t get hold of Winter.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” I stayed casual. I was just doing a favour for my best mate’s sister. That was it. “Tell her to meet me out the front.” Disconnecting the call, I took the exit to Alstone, heading in the direction of my old school, Alstone High.
SIX
Waiting on the stone steps outside my school, leaning against one of the stone pillars that flanked the entrance, I scanned the road. All I had was a text from my brother to say he couldn’t pick me up, but he’d sorted a lift.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait with you?” My friend Raine peered up at me from where she was tucked under her boyfriend Carter’s arm.
“Do I look like the kind of person that needs someone to wait with me?” I raised a brow. Her reply was lost as the low growl of an engine cut through all the conversations.
“Fuck.” There was approval in Carter’s voice as we watched a matte-black car pull up, expensive-looking and sexy, if you liked that kind of thing. For me, cars were something to get you from A to B.
Okay, maybe I was a tiny bit impressed.
The car was forgotten as the driver pulled to a stop and climbed out, and my mouth went dry. With his attention focused on the crowd of students swarming around him, I let my eyes drink him in from head to toe, despite my brain flashing up warning signs. From his Nikes, up over his faded, ripped jeans, up over his grey T-shirt that clung to his lean, toned torso, up to his angular jaw, past the sunglasses that covered his amazing eyes, and stopping on his dark, almost black hair that was tousled like he’d been running his hand through it.
Wait. Did I just think his eyes were amazing?
I huffed and snapped my gaze away.
“What’s Weston Cavendish doing here?” Carter started down the steps, tugging Raine wit
h him, and I had no choice but to follow.
I swallowed hard. “I think…I think he’s here for me,” I muttered.
“Nice wheels” was the first thing Carter said when we reached Weston. A blinding grin spread across Weston’s face, and even though it wasn’t directed at me, I shivered.
No.
I’d perfected the art of pretending that Weston didn’t affect me over the years, and I wasn’t about to break now.
Affixing a bored expression on my face, I turned to Raine as Carter and Weston started talking about torque and engine shit.
“He’s even better-looking than I remembered.” Raine nudged me with her elbow.
“Is he?”
Maybe my mask was flimsier than I realised, because she wasn’t fooled by my false nonchalance. “You know, I remember you hanging out with him a bit last year when he was still at school with us.”
“We didn’t ‘hang out.’ Maybe I spoke to him sometimes—he’s my brother’s best friend, after all. But he was the football team captain, and you know how I feel about the popular crowd.”
She arched her brow, clearly unconvinced. “Yet you sit with them every day at lunch.”
“Only because your boyfriend is the team captain,” I shot back.
“You love them really. Don’t even pretend.” Glancing over at her boyfriend, she gave him a small, private smile.
I hummed non-committally, because maybe they weren’t so bad. Not now I’d got to know them.
My eyes strayed to Weston again, despite myself, and my stomach fluttered.
The conversation stopped.
His gaze swung to mine, and he directed that smile at me.
My defences melted away, as if they’d never existed.
Fuck.
I knew he was going to be my downfall. He was going to ruin me.
I’d managed to avoid the fire for so long, but now?
Now I was craving the burn.
I couldn’t give in. Weston was a temptation that I couldn’t afford.
“Ready to go?” He twirled his keys around on his finger as he continued to disarm me with his smile.
Deep breath. You don’t want him. Nodding, I walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, back to my usual confident self.
“Oh. This is nice.” My black-tipped fingernails trailed appreciatively over the buttery soft leather of my seat. Clipping my seat belt into place, I took in the interior, all understated elegance and luxury.
“Yeah.” The pride in Weston’s voice made me smile. Starting up the engine, he casually rested one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of my seat as he reversed. When he removed his hand, his fingers caught in my hair.
“Sorry.” His voice was soft. His fingertips slid over the strands that rested against my cheek, sending shivers racing through me. “I like your hair this pink colour,” he murmured.
Suddenly, it felt like all the air had been sucked from the car. And now I was fucking blushing. What the fuck?
He pulled away his hand so fast that it was practically a blur, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I was sure this car hadn’t been this small when I got in. Why was I finding it hard to breathe?
As he drove us in the direction of my house, it became apparent that the stifling atmosphere in the car wasn’t only caused by whatever weird moment had happened between us. Glancing over at him, I noticed the tight set of his jaw and tension radiating from his body.
“Are you okay?” I ventured, then immediately clamped my mouth shut, instantly regretting speaking up. Surprisingly, though, he answered me.
“Yeah. I…” There was the world’s longest pause before he finally continued. “I’m fine. Just got some shit going on. Picking up this baby—” He patted the steering wheel. “—made me forget for a bit, but now…” His shoulders slumped.
What was I supposed to say to that? “Well, that’s cryptic.” I licked my dry lips. “Um.”
Thankfully, he didn’t wait for me to attempt to formulate more of a reply, because he gave a loud sigh and turned to me briefly. “Fuck it. It’s not important. Just got a lot on my plate. I’ll work it out. Are you in a rush to get home?”
“No…”
His hand smoothed over the steering wheel. “Wanna see what this baby is capable of?”
A grin spread across my face. “Yeah. Although I’m kind of concerned by the way you keep referring to it as your baby.”
“It is my baby.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and the whole atmosphere lightened.
“If you say so.”
We hit the open clifftop road, and he let the car fly. Now I got it. I got why Winter was so obsessed with Caiden and his car. Seeing Weston handle this powerful machine with ease, his muscles flexing as his hands curved around the steering wheel…there was something so masculine and sexy about it.
I couldn’t afford to think that way. I yanked my head around so fast that I was surprised I hadn’t given myself whiplash, fixing my gaze on the sea instead.
He directed me to put some music on, so I hooked my phone up to his car system and hit one of my playlists.
“You’re an NF fan, hey?” A grin tugged at his lips.
“What gave it away?”
His grin widened, and my stomach flipped again.
I was so fucked.
Although the music was relatively slow and we were in a fast car, it somehow fit perfectly. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the seat.
“Lena?” Blinking my eyes open, I realised that we’d stopped outside my house. Turning to meet Weston’s amused gaze, I opened my mouth.
“I think I fell asleep.”
“Yeah. I think you did.”
He raised his hand and brushed a strand of hair off the side of my face.
My breath caught in my throat.
Confusion filled his eyes, and he dropped his hand immediately, like he’d touched me unthinkingly and was now second-guessing himself. To save things from becoming even more awkward, I quickly unclipped my seat belt and slid out of the car.
“Bye,” I said breathlessly, turning and heading for my front door without a backwards glance.
My cheek still burned where he’d touched me.
SEVEN
Friday night was my new-car party.
Who the fuck would decide to throw a party for a new car? Cassius Drummond, that was who.
The music was thumping through the house, and I was in the mood to get wasted and find a hot girl to bury myself inside. I still hadn’t made any headway on the Martin Smith issue, I’d had a full-on week of studying, and my part-time job in the Alstone College IT department had just brought added pressure that I didn’t need. At least I was only doing four hours a week on that, but it was still four hours that I couldn’t really spare at the moment. My headaches had been flaring up too. In short, I wasn’t the most fun person to be around at this point in time.
“Mate, you okay?” Cassius studied me with a look of concern as I stood leaning against the kitchen counter. This wasn’t good. I wasn’t about to bring down the mood of the party.
“I need a drink.”
“Beer?”
“Something stronger. Much stronger.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Leave it with me.”
“Want to go upstairs?”
I blinked as Cindy? Candy? trailed her lips across my ear, pressing her body into mine suggestively.
“Not now, Cindy,” I slurred. What I needed was for the room to stop spinning.
“It’s Amy, you wanker.” She shoved at my chest, pushing away from me, and I groaned as the room spun again. Placing my hand on the wall for balance, I staggered in the direction of the hallway. No destination in mind, but my body seemed to think it was a good idea. Somehow, I ended up in a corner of the lounge area, which was weirdly quiet. Dimly, I remembered people heading outside since it was a warm evening.
I sank into one of the chairs and rested my heavy head in the
palms of my hands, willing my head to stop spinning.
“What’s wrong?” The soft voice had me dropping my hands, and my gaze trailed up long legs covered in black thigh-high socks and over a pair of black leather shorts topped with a studded silver belt. I didn’t get any further before my hands shot out and gripped the girl around the backs of her thighs, pulling her into my lap. I vaguely registered her surprised squeal as my fingers touched her smooth skin, and then I raised my blurry gaze to meet her face.
Oh. Fuck.
I buried my face in her soft pink hair as my arms went around her body, hugging her to me. Maybe if I didn’t look at her, I could pretend this wasn’t real.
“Your hair smells like candy floss,” I mumbled, inhaling deeply.
“What the fuck? Are you sniffing my hair?”
“Are you really here?”
This time a laugh escaped her, and she reached between us to grip my chin, forcibly tugging my head upwards.
I leaned back against the armchair headrest with a sigh and closed my eyes but kept my arms around her. The next moment, I felt a sharp pinch on my arm. “Ow! What was that for?”
“You asked if I was really here.”
I opened my eyes and groaned at the amusement in Lena’s gaze. Had I ever noticed how blue her eyes were before?
“Why are we sitting like this?” She waved a hand between us.
“You’re the one sitting on me.”
“Like I had any choice.” I didn’t see her making any effort to move, though. “Just how much did you drink?”
“Dunno. Ask Cass.”
She muttered something about her “irresponsible brother” and something about a shiv, but I was lost, my eyes falling closed again as the room continued to spin.
The next thing I was aware of was someone shaking my shoulder. Opening my eyes again, I saw Lena holding out a large glass with some kind of icy-looking brownish liquid and a straw poking out of the top. “Drink this.” She handed the glass to me, and I took a tentative taste.
