Quarter Mile Hearts(17)

“Race with me then?”

“With you? Like in the same car as you?

“Yeah.”

“And why would I do that?”

“I want your expert opinion.”

“Excuse me?”

“There are some changes I want to make to the car, and I want you to hear what you think.”

“As we’re racing?”

“Yeah, you think you can handle it?”

If he hadn’t added that last bit, I probably would have just walked away, but it’s a red rag to a bull, and like an idiot I fall for it. With a roll of my eyes, I stalk away, shouting, “Bring it on,” over my shoulder as I make my way to his car. I’m glad that I have my back to him and don’t see the smug grin that I’m sure graces his gorgeous mouth. Or the knowing looks that he exchanges with Beth and Aaron because he knows exactly which buttons to press in order to get me to do what he wants.

Max takes his time walking over to where I’m leaning against his car waiting for him, and I try my hardest not to watch how his jeans mold perfectly to his muscular thighs, particularly over the crotch, or to remember exactly what is in there. His t-shirt clings to his solid chest, and he catches me doing a double take. In the end, I stare at a tree over his shoulder because his body is too damn tempting.

I don’t move when he stops in front of me and leans forward, my breath catching in my throat. What is he going to do? But he reaches for the door handle and pulls open the passenger door.

“Get in,” he orders in a low voice, and I duck under his arm to climb into the seat. The door shuts and he stalks around and folds himself behind the wheel.

The engine of the Subaru growls when Max fires it up, and he slowly eases toward the starting line. Three other cars line up, all drivers who I recognize vaguely, but most of them are younger.

“Are you not getting a bit old for this?” I ask as I look at the younger drivers.

He leans over and takes my hand, forcing me to look at him when all the fine hairs stand on end as tingles spread up my arm.

“You’re only as old as the woman you feel.”

I stifle a laugh. “That makes you about sixteen,” I joke and bite my lip when he glares at me.

“They’re all college age,” he grinds out and presses his foot on the gas and revs the engine. Beth stands with the cap in her hand. Even though Aaron isn’t racing, it is still her duty. Especially as Max appears to have any number of girlfriends, he would be hard pushed to pick just one to stand up there and start the race.

“You ready.”

“Of course.” I manage to sound disinterested while inside my stomach flips with excitement as the adrenaline starts to course through my veins. My breath quickens slightly and I find myself leaning forward in my seat a little. The foot that would normally hover over the accelerator twitches as if I were the one in the driver’s seat.

The cap drops and all four cars charge forward, engines growling, with a squeal of tires. Max pulls away with ease and inches ahead of the others. A thrill of excitement passes through me and my stomach clenches. He’s going to win. Not that there was any doubt in my mind; of course, now he’ll be even more unbearable.

The Subaru reaches the finish line first, but instead of applying the brakes and finishing with a flourish, Max keeps on going, pushing the car harder and faster than he did when he was racing. We fly along the dark roads at breakneck speed. At this moment, I should be terrified, but I’m not; I’m exhilarated and beginning to wonder if there really is something wrong with me. Anyone else would be shit scared at this point and screaming at him to stop driving like a lunatic. But no, I sit quietly and watch with begrudging admiration as he handles the car with a silent confidence.

Every turn is well practiced and executed to perfection. Every shift is well timed to get maximum power, and not once do I feel that he is out of control. The only sign that I am affected by the speed at which he’s driving is the way my breathing speeds up. Watching him drive like this is a turn on.

The car clings to the tarmac on a long, curving stretch of road. There is a sheer drop on one side, and Max is dangerously close to the edge, but I’m not worried. It’s like some sixth sense is telling me that he would never put me in danger, and even more bizarrely, I trust him, completely.

The winding road levels out high above the town and in complete darkness. It ends abruptly with a metal barrier the only warning before it drops off, the quarry lying below. Max eases his foot off the gas and the car begins to slow as he tests me, to see if I’ll freak out as the car gets closer to the edge. But I sit still, hands clasped in my lap as though I was out for a Sunday drive after church. We near the barrier before he brakes and skids the car, bringing it to a well-timed stop. Not once was he out of control, and maybe that’s why I felt safe. That and, even though I hate to admit it, he is a fucking good driver. He knows these roads like the back of his hand even in the dark.