Aflame (Fall Away #4) (8 page)

She looked at me firm and serious, and I kind of believed her.

And then I wondered why I cared.

I turned the volume back up. “Out,” I ordered, but then she turned it back down.

“I’m bored,” she argued. “And I’d like to experience my boss’s humble beginnings. If you’re lucky, I may start to like you.”

I rolled my eyes.

I saw Zack get up on the podium with his megaphone, and I checked to make sure I was in first gear.

“You’re a distraction,” I blurted out, wishing she’d get out of my car. I was tempted to get someone to haul her out, but it would waste my time.

“I’d say you were already distracted,” she retorted, and I snapped my eyes up at her, catching her insinuation.

“Ready!”

I jerked my gaze back out the windshield, not feeling ready.

“Set!” I heard him call, and I blasted the music, shooting her a warning look.

Why was she in my car? Why did she think I was distracted?

And shit, how many laps was I doing again?

Uh . . . four. Four laps.
I nodded to myself.
Yeah, four.

“Go!” he shouted, and I sucked in a breath, gassing the damn car with all of my might.

I yanked the stick down into second and up into third, smoothing into my gears like always. My car was a part of me, and I checked my rearview mirror, seeing two of the cars still behind me and Jaeger at my side.

Coming up on the first turn, I let Jaeger go ahead, and I drifted behind him around the turn. I skidded, going to the outside, but not having to slow nearly as much.

“Whoa!” Pasha shouted as we raced, and I shot down into fourth as I slammed my foot down on the gas and sped ahead, now in front of everyone.

I’d love to say it was merely skill, but the car was a huge part, as well. The size and maneuverability were strong factors.

I shot up into fifth and down into sixth, hearing Pasha’s excited breaths next to me. “I thought hanging out in the racing world, you’d be used to this,” I challenged, seeing her holding the handle above the door as I tried to keep my mind off Jared, who was no doubt watching my every move out here.

Pasha breathed hard. “I drive for fun, and I watch races, but I’m hardly ever the passenger.” She shook her head, smiling. “It’s different.”

I almost smiled back. Yeah, she was right. Riding with Jared had been a huge rush. No control—you just rode and put your life in someone else’s hands.

It was an entirely different experience but still as exciting.

I rounded the next turn and the next, slowly starting to relax.

I finally turned down the music. “You don’t know me, okay?” I told her, setting the record straight. “Whatever Jared told you . . .”

I felt her eyes on me, and even though I wanted to know what she knew, I wasn’t opening this up for discussion.

No one—especially people I didn’t know—made me feel bad about myself. And her look at me earlier had made me shrink.

“The guy you’re dating?” she started softly. “Ben? He’s a lifeline to you. Something to hold on to so you don’t sink, right?”

I peered over at her, confused and shocked at the same time.
Lifeline?

“You know how I know?” she asked. “Because you’re a strong woman, and he’s too weak for you. You can’t possibly respect him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “You don’t know us. You just met us. He’s a good guy, and I like him a lot.”

“I’m sure you do,” she shot back, sounding amused. “As a friend.”

I squeezed the wheel, racing past the finish line and continuing for the first turn again.

“He does what you tell him to do,” she went on. “He doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t run away. He’s easy to handle, right?”

When I said nothing, she continued, “Jared kept trying to get under your skin earlier, and Ben should’ve reacted,” she mused. “As the guy you’re dating, he should’ve taken offense—at least a little bit—but he was too much of a coward.”

I chewed the inside of my lip, fire burning down my leg as I floored the gas.

“You’re strong,” Pasha gauged. “Someone who likes to be in control. But wouldn’t it be exhausting—not to mention boring—always being the one in the lead? Never being challenged?”

I turned up the music again and shook my head.

Ben wasn’t boring.

He might not get me hot, but he also wasn’t rude, aggressive, and complicated. And I didn’t need to explain myself to—

“Jared, though?” she chirped over the music, cutting off my train of thought. “I can imagine that relationship threw you on the ground and fucked the daylights out of you, huh?”

I turned my wide eyes on her, barely noticing Jaeger’s car zooming past me.

“Metaphorically speaking, of course,” she added.

I breathed out a nervous laugh, stunned into silence. I had to hand it to her. She was bold.

I charged ahead, powering around the turn and missing Jaeger’s car by a hair. I sped on, taking the lead again as I tightened every muscle in my body and raced hard, jerking the wheel wildly and making her laugh as I skidded around the corners.

Flying across the finish line two more times, I barely bothered to downshift as I turned, feeling the weight of the car pulling and our bodies trying to go with it.

She started laughing, nervously glancing behind her.

“Go, go, go!” she shouted, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re very weird, you know that?” I commented.

“I consider that a compliment.” She beamed.

Jaeger’s orange Camaro pulled up on my side, and I swerved into his lane to cut him off, knowing that we’d bump on the next turn if he was too close. Backing off, he pulled behind me, honking his horn furiously.

I raced ahead, feeling the energy down to my bones the way I always did here.

But it was more than that, too. It didn’t feel like it was going to be over when the race ended as it usually did.

Tearing across the finish line, I let out a happy laugh, pounding my steering wheel with the adrenaline built up inside of me.

“Woo-hoo!” Pasha screamed, rolling down the window and howling.

I sucked in air, breathing hard as I spoke to her. “So was that boring?”

She acted like it was no big deal. “It didn’t suck.”

The crowd descended, pounding the roof, and I moved to get out of the car so I could smack one of them, because who the hell thought it was okay to pound on my car?

But Pasha grabbed my arm, and I stopped to look back at her.

“You should ask Jared about the one time I
almost
saw him cry,” she said, her happy face turning serious. “I’m sure you’d find it very interesting.”

Jared

Jax stood up in the announcer’s stand, peering down at me with a grin on his face that said I was way out of my depth. Yeah, I was kind of getting that.

Tate was different.

I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the track, seeing her hop out of her car and talk with the other drivers. So confident. So strong.

But the way I wanted her was still the same.

Jax was right. I could go around about it for days or weeks or another two years, but I’d still come to the same conclusion as he did this afternoon. I loved Tate, and I would always love her.

I’d never planned on letting her go. Not really. Seeing her with someone else a year and a half ago threw me for a loop, and I thought that maybe I still wasn’t good enough, maybe I couldn’t live up to him, maybe she was finally happy after all the pain I caused, and maybe, just once, I could think of her happiness and leave her the fuck alone for once in my life. Maybe, just maybe, we weren’t meant to be together.

But there were no maybes now. I wanted her back.

For good.

“Girl,” one of the racers drawled, wrapping an arm around Tate’s neck as she made her way through the crowd. “I could’ve won that race. You know I backed off out of pity.”

One corner of her lips tilted in a smile as she made her way back over to where Ben stood a few feet away from me.

“We’ve raced three times,” she pointed out, eyeing him. “Why keep racing me if you’re purposely going to lose every time?”

I laughed under my breath. “Well, if he beats a girl,” I mumbled, pretending to fiddle on my phone, “what has he really won?”

I heard Madoc’s snort from a few feet off, and I swallowed, immediately regretting the words.

Awesome.
What the hell was wrong with me? No matter how much I liked to think that I had grown up, being around Tate brought out the bully all over again.

I could practically feel Pasha’s eye roll next to me, and silence fell on Tate’s conversation telling me they’d all heard the insult.

“You don’t believe that.” Tate’s flat voice sounded so sure, and I knew she was talking to me.

I looked up, stuffing my phone into my back pocket as I stood.

“You’re a lot of things,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest, “but you’re not sexist.”

“Look who knows me so well,” I taunted, acting like her boyfriend wasn’t even there.

And he wasn’t. He didn’t matter.

Tate cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not hard to figure out, Jared.”

“No, I’m not,” I agreed. “I’m just bored.”

“Hmmm,” she nodded, shooting me with her fake, sympathetic gaze. “That’s right. This is all beneath you now, isn’t it? We’re simply the amateurs entertaining you with our mediocrity.” And then she raised her voice, stepping closer as she spoke to those around us. “He can take stories of us back to his hot shot friends, laughing about his ‘roots’ . . .” she stopped to add air quotes, much to the enjoyment of everyone listening. “And how far he’s come while we’re all still muddling along in this no-name town.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing how wrong she was. I loved the Loop and my home, and I never let any success I gained go to my head. Anything I said or did to give that impression was simply to get under her skin.

I heard a throat clearing behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Fallon and Juliet smiling in support of their girl. I was kind of alone. Jax was up in the announcer’s stand and Madoc was off to the side, clearly not picking a side and just enjoying the show as his eyes shot between Tate and me.

“But if I remember correctly,” Tate spoke up again as conversations around us halted and people started listening, “Jared did say he wanted to race, didn’t he?” she asked the crowd, looking around and egging them on.

They cheered and laughed, clearly liking where she was going with this.

“Tate?” I gritted out, warning her, but she ignored me.

“Yes, yes, he did say that, didn’t he?” she shouted, now having everyone’s attention. “He said he wanted a race, and I think Zack and Jax would be more than happy to adjust the schedule for such a prestigious Loop alumnus.”

I shot a hard look up to the stand, seeing my brother leaning down on the railing grinning his ass off.

I took a deep breath, crossing my arms over my chest. “I said I wanted one race,” I clarified to Tate. “One race with one driver in particular.”

She knew what I wanted. What was she doing?

She turned around, looking into the crowd. “Derek! Derek Roman, where are you?”

“What?” I heard his deep voice from off to my right.

Cocking my head, I saw Roman coming through the crowd, using a shop cloth to clean off his fingers. He must’ve been under the hood of a car.

After all this time, he hadn’t changed much. Still looked like a fifties greaser reject with his slicked black hair and plain T-shirts. We used to run into each other a lot at the Loop when I was in high school, and I knew he worked the Loop with Jax now, helping out and such, but I hadn’t talked to him. We didn’t get along, and Tate knew that.

“You and Jared have unfinished business,” Tate reminded him, and I immediately felt the irritation pool under my skin when I realized what she was doing.

“Your last race together was a tie, wasn’t it?” Tate knew the answer. She was merely reminding everyone.

“No.” Roman shook his head. “I won that race.”

“Like hell you did,” I blurted out, feeling my rival’s challenge like a hot poker in my side.

He laughed, sounding condescending, and I looked over to see Tate’s lips curl in mischief as she held my eyes.

“Derek,” she said softly. “How about a rematch? Your Trans Am against Jared’s bike?”

“That’s a dumb race,” Roman shot back.

“I agree.” I hooded my eyes in boredom. “He has no chance.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” I mumbled, barely meeting his eyes.

“Tensions are hot, everyone.” Tate looked to the crowd, holding up her hands. “What do you say?”

I shifted in irritation as the noise became deafening. Shouts, howls, and cheers rang out in the hot, night air, and I really wanted to shut her up. Like really shut her up.

“I’m not taking this race!” I heard Roman shout. “A sport bike against my car? That’s not fair!”

“Exactly.” I nodded, inching toward Tate and ignoring Ben’s rigid stance beside her. “And I have nothing to prove, so why would I do this?” I asked her.

“Because if you win,” she replied, “you can race me.” And then she looked to Ben. “You okay with that?”

He cocked an eyebrow, his hard stare turning amused. She didn’t need his permission to race, but she was asking him out of respect. Racing her ex-boyfriend—or engaging in any activity with an ex-boyfriend—was crossing a line.

“I’m not worried,” Ben replied, meeting my stare head to head as he spoke to her. “He’ll choke on your dust, babe.”

Ohh
s filled the air, and I inhaled a deep breath, just about done tolerating him.

“Well, what about me?” Roman whined. “What do I get?”

Tate walked past me, and I watched as she leaned in close, covering her lips with her hands as she whispered something to him. His eyebrows dug deep and then shot up in surprise, and I immediately knew she had sold him.

I could race him and win, getting what I wanted from her—a little more interaction—but what the hell did she promise him?

He smiled and shrugged. “Okay,” he called out. “Clear the track, everyone!” And he raced off to get his car, I would assume.

Cheers rang out as everyone scurried off the track and huddled to the sides, making room for his car and my bike.

And I just stood there, wondering what the hell had just happened. I ate guys like Roman for breakfast. This wasn’t a race. The maneuverability of my bike alone was an unfair advantage against him.

“What did you promise him?” I asked as Tate walked by.

“I promised him he would win,” she called over her shoulder, following Ben off the track.

I followed. “On no planet would he ever win against a sport bike. Or me.” I added.

She reached over, grabbing my helmet off my bike handle and tossing it to me. “Get it on, get on the starting line, and prove it.”

She stood there, seeming so sure about herself. So calm and unaffected, and I didn’t like this. Any of it.

I missed my Tate. The wildcat who fought back and smiled because she was happy, not because she was planning something to make me squirm. This new cool and calculated woman was a little scary, and I couldn’t keep up.

She walked away, and I swung my leg over my bike, starting it and revving the engine, the high-pitched whir loud enough to drown out any other noise here tonight. I pulled up onto the track and lined myself up next to Roman’s 2002 Pontiac Trans Am.

I loved to race, and even though this didn’t even compare to my usual venues, my heart still pounded like a two ton hammer.

Jax came over, affixing two Go Pros to my handlebars, one facing the track and another facing me. “She’s changed,” I commented to him, slipping on my black helmet.

He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on his task. “She’s definitely harder to impress now, so step up your game.”

I didn’t want to step up my game. I didn’t want to play any game period. I just wanted to take her somewhere. Cry, fight, even let her hit me, but at the end of it all, she’d be in my arms, her storm blue eyes looking up at me and desperate for only what I could give her. That was my Tate.

I jerked, feeling a hand squeeze my shoulder, and I looked behind me to see Tate climbing on the bike in back of me.

What the . . . ?

“What are you doing?” I barked, noticing her clasp Fallon’s half-helmet to her head.

“Riding,” she chirped. “It’s part of the deal.”

“Oh, hell no!” I growled, twisting my head farther around to scowl at her. “It’s too dangerous. Get off!”

“If I don’t go with you, then you don’t get your prize if you win,” she explained, her voice calm and even. “And if you back out of the race now, everyone will think you’re scared.” She shrugged. “Or too stuck-up to indulge us.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, look,” she interrupted, jerking her chin in a cheery voice. “Here we go.”

I darted my gaze to Zack coming off the announcer’s stand and back at her as she adjusted herself on the rear seat.

I breathed in and out, not knowing what to do.
Shit!

“Derek Roman,” Zack boomed through the megaphone, “and Jared Trent last raced five years ago this fall! It was one of the most memorable nights we had here . . .”

“Get off!” I whispered over my shoulder to Tate.

“Not happening,” she shot back. “Can’t make this too easy for you, can we?”

My eyes nearly bugged out as realization hit.
Fuck.
I twisted around to say more, but Zack spoke up again.

“Because it was also the first time we ever saw Tatum Brandt race!” he continued. “To solve the tie between Jared and Derek, we had their girlfriends race. However, the score never really felt settled, and now, five years later, we can give everyone a chance to see who the real winner is!”

Cheers and excited laughter rang out, and I looked over my shoulder, growling low at Tate.

“Get off now,” I ordered. “I can’t race with you hanging on to me!”

I heard her snort as she wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned down into my back. “It’s just a little pond, Jared,” she taunted, throwing my words back at me.

I shook my head, gritting my teeth.

She wasn’t going to let me race without her on the bike. I couldn’t race like I normally would for fear of hurting her. And backing out now wasn’t a choice because . . .

“Are you ready gentlemen?” Zack called, and I groaned.

“No,” I answered under my breath. And then I called behind me, “You better hold on.” I revved my engine as Derek’s Trans Am rumbled next to me.

Tate tightened her arms around me, and I wondered what Ben thought of all this. He was no doubt watching. Had Tate warned him before climbing on behind me?

“I’m going to get you back for this, you know,” I threatened her.

She nuzzled in close, her breath tickling my ear. “You can try.”

A smile tugged at my lips that I wouldn’t let loose.

“Ready!” Zack called, and I faced forward, tensing every muscle in my arms.

“Set!” Tate went rigid against my body.

“Go!”

Liquid heat flooded my body, and screams filled the air as we shot off, our tires spinning, kicking up smoke and the smell of hot rubber as we launched down the track.

My rear end wobbled with the extra weight I wasn’t used to, and I gripped the handle bars tighter, trying to stay straight. Derek shot off ahead of me, but I picked up speed immediately, accelerating ahead of him as Tate let out an excited laugh. Her scared arms tightened, and I loved feeling her warmth at my back. I always loved her on my bike.

But as we rounded the first turn, I immediately slammed on the brakes.

“Shit!” I growled, feeling the full measure of the extra weight behind me carrying me to one side and messing up my balance. I couldn’t round corners the way I was used to in races—speeding ahead and bending low to the ground—because I wasn’t on my racing bike, and I wasn’t alone.

Tate gasped, her body settling on my back, since she was seated higher up and leaning down.

I brought my foot down, grazing the ground as I rounded the corner and feeling her wobble at my back. Derek honked his horn, skidding behind me, and I slammed on the gas, charging ahead right after him.

I felt Tate’s chest shake against my back, and I knew she was laughing. I hardened my jaw.

At least she was quiet about her gloating.

I picked up speed, able to go much faster than Roman, but the turns killed me. It was no use.

He was able to make corners faster, because he didn’t have to slow down as much—or worry about the safety of another person in his car—and I couldn’t concentrate, because Tate was on my body and in my head, and she knew what she was doing. I couldn’t race like this.

My balance was off, and she knew I was worried about hurting her. In a car, she was somewhat shielded, but out here . . . I was scared shitless, and I wouldn’t take the chance. She shifted, we wobbled, and there was no way I could protect her if something happened.