The driver approaches the final corner and hits the gas as he drifts around the dirt bend with the sound of the engine drowning out the crowd’s roar. “Wow, he’s good,” I murmur as he completes the corner and flies down the final straight.
Nate scoffs with distaste beside me and has me wondering who the hell the driver of the blue car is. The guy shoots forward through the finish line and hits the brake. I watch as a cloud of dust shoots up behind him and a moment later, he comes to a stop before people everywhere start cheering and heading his way.
With the amount of attention and cheers the guy is getting, he’s clearly popular and I watch with interest as the door opens and the guy climbs out. My back stiffens as a strange familiarity comes over me. I’ve seen this guy before.
I narrow my eyes as I try to place him when it all comes back. He’s the guy I’d thought was hot a few weeks ago at Nate and Jesse’s party. Though, I can’t quite place his name. It started with a J. John maybe? Jake? Jackson? Yes. Jackson. That’s it.
From what Nate had said that night, the guy is a real douchebag and is the definition of trouble. He came over to me with the arrogance of an asshole and insisted I leave with him, even after Nate had claimed me with his arm around my waist and his fingers dipping into the top of my shorts. I still recall the way my skin burned under his touch that night. It was intoxicating. Nothing has changed.
Distaste starts to spread over me as I watch Jackson with his friends. I recognize a few of them from Haven Falls Private and I’m assuming by the way they’re all hovering around him like he’s some kind of king, means he’s the Nate of their school. The designated bad boy. And judging by the way Nate is scowling across at him, there’s no love between these two.
“I take that back,” I tell Nate. “He handles his car like a pussy.”
“That’s more like it,” he grunts before pulling his hand out from my back pocket.
“You’re up, Nate,” Tyson says from beside Jesse. “Show that fucker there’s only room for one kickass Camaro around here.”
Nate grins as he walks around to his door. I look back and watch as he opens the door and leans against the open frame. “What are you doing?” he says. “Get your ass in the car.”
“Huh?” I grunt as I stare at him. “I’m not racing with you.”
“Bullshit. Get in.”
“No way in hell,” I tell him as I step back into Jesse, wanting to get as far away from those hypnotic eyes that could make me do just about anything. I mean, I’ve been with him while he was racing twice now and while it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, it’s absolutely terrifying. “I’m staying right here.”
His eyes soften and he gives me the bad boy version of puppy dog eyes which is so damn hot. “Please?” he smiles.
I shake my head as I walk around to him. I step right up into him and tilt my chin up. “You’re on your own for this one,” I tell him as his arms circle around my waist.
“It was worth a try,” he murmurs as his lips come down on mine. He kisses me deeply and I melt into him. All too soon, he pulls away and drops down into his car. I step back to allow him to close the door and a moment later, the engine comes to life with a deafening sound that sets off a few car alarms.
A grin rips across my face as I look down at him through the open window. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” I say before the laughter claims me.
He shakes his head and winks before pushing his car forward through the people and heading down towards the starting line.
I squish myself beside Brooke and take her drink out of her hand before taking a sip. “This is going to be a good one,” she says, practically bouncing on her toes.
“I know,” I say nervously. I mean, I know he’s going to win, but I can’t help the jittery nerves that flow through me.
Jesse comes up on my other side and throws his heavy arm over my shoulder. “He’s got this is the bag,” he tells me as the white Camaro pulls in beside his matte black one, revving his engine to try and intimidate Nate, though, that shit will never work on a guy like Nate. He has balls of steel.
“He should be racing for keeps,” Puck says. “He could use that heap of shit for spare parts.”
“Fuck yeah,” Jesse laughs. “He better fucking win. Ty put money down on this race.”