“Dollop?”
Kite pointed to a blob of paint on the back of my hand then nodded to the TV. “Pick your car, lovely.” Kite had a faint Irish accent, but it accentuated with the word lovely. He went on to suggest which car would be best for me and then gave me some pointers. Before long we were racing.
I forgot about Ream, well forgot is a strong word, I was always aware of him, but I pushed him to the far back corner of my mind. Shit that was a lie too; he was sitting beside me, long, lean legs stretched out in jeans. Not just any jeans, but ones worn out at the knees. Faded and just snug in all the right places. Our shoulders touched—okay, inches apart—but the magnetic pull I felt, it was like we were touching. Why couldn’t I get him out of me? Why was he so hard to forget? Could we be friends again? No, there was too much sexual tension between us to just be friends. I couldn’t imagine seeing him with another woman … Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that.
“Kat, what the hell are you doing? Girls.” Crisis slapped his knee and laughed.
I focused back on the screen, and I was going full throttle into a bridge, tires skidding and not going anywhere. Kite was laughing his ass off so hard that he rammed his car into a sign and did a one eighty. I reversed and started back on the track. Kite was half a lap ahead of me.
Ream’s hand came down on my thigh and Jesus I was so surprised—and yes, ready to jump the asshole—that I dropped the controller and my car came to a dead stop in the middle of the track.
“Hands off, bucko.” I glared at him and he put up his hands, but I saw the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He wanted me to lose … cheater. “No touching the players. I’ll call distraction.”
Crisis looped his arm around Kite’s throat and pulled him backwards. “Kat. Go. Go. Go. You can still beat this pussy.”
I laughed and got down to business and made my way around the track, but Kite had managed to escape Crisis’ hold and was nearing the finish line.
“You suck, sugar,” Crisis said, shaking his head. “Give me the controller. I’m kicking some Kite butt.” I passed it over and heard the roar of the engines as the boys waited for the countdown. “Eat my gas,” Crisis yelled as he shot off ahead of Kite. “Fuckin’ did that on the tour bus,” Kite muttered. I couldn’t stop the laugh-snort from emerging. “Kat, did Emily tell you about Logan banning Crisis from the bus in Minnesota?” I shook my head. “The pig was walking around naked, drunk, and with a chick, who was no shy screamer, in his bunk. Emily saw him and … shit Ream … didn’t she say she puked a little at the sight of his naked ass?”
“Ha. More like wondering if she was in the wrong bed,” Crisis said.
I laughed because there wasn’t even the remotest chance that Emily would ever think that. Even if his cock was the size of a baseball bat.
“And at least I can make them scream.” Crisis swung his arms out wide as he made a turn and nearly clocked Kite in the face. “That punk chick you fucked in the dressing room … remember her?” Kite grunted. “Yeah you do, so does the whole fuckin’ crew. Shit.” Crisis’s car crashed into a median and slowed as it hit the grass. Kite’s car whizzed past.
“You’re going to lose, dickbrain,” Kite said, grinning.
“Fuck.” Crisis focused on the TV and the story I wanted to hear was left unsaid.
Crisis ended up winning and Ream and I clanked beers with him. It was good to see them not at each other’s throats. Guys were funny. They could beat the shit out of one another, call each other the worst names ever, and then be best buds drinking together the next minute.
I hated that the shit between Ream and me had caused conflict with Crisis and Ream. But it also seemed part of what they did, like brothers. Egging one another on, teasing, and that was what Crisis had been doing. Pushing the boundary with me in front of Ream.
“Ready?” Ream’s voice was soft and gentle and at the same time had an edge to it that heated my lower region into a low boil. Fuck. I need to concentrate on not getting my ass kicked.
Kite passed me his controller, and I picked my car then paused. “How about we pick another track? Something a little more … challenging?”
Ream shrugged. “Whatever you like. Your choice, beautiful.”
I loved when he called me that, and that’s why I hated it so much. “Call me that again and I’ll have to kick your ass and embarrass you in front of your buddies.” I scrolled through until I found the off-roading.
Crisis started laughing hysterically, and Kite shook his head back and forth. He leaned close and nudged me with his shoulder. “That’s Ream’s specialty. You sure you want to pick that? ’Cause you’re not kicking his ass on that track no matter what you do.”
“It’s just a game, boys. Not like I’m losing anything big.”
“Bragging rights,” Crisis muttered.
“Pride,” Kite decreed.
I laughed.
Ream chuckled. “I’ll take it easy on her. I love that you picked my favorite track, baby.” He leaned closer and I held up my hand.
“No touching. Don’t call me baby or beautiful, and if you manage those things, then maybe I’ll take it easy on you.”
“Oh I don’t need you to take it easy on me, beautiful. Everyone already knows I’m king of off-roading. You see the score board?” He clicked a few times and up came the scores for the track. Ream’s name was all over it. He lowered his voice. “I may even let you get your name up on the board if you let me kiss—”