Quarter Mile Hearts(83)
Fear claws at me and I’m finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. What is wrong with me? Get a grip and drive. Isn’t that what Max told me to do? Just drive. He has confidence in me. Losing this race is not an option. I need to win. While I have my major freak-out, I’ve followed Zach through turn four, and we’re now approaching turn five. I really need to pull something out of the bag. And soon. I’m running out of time. I can’t lose this, can’t lose to Zach, and more importantly, I can’t lose the garage.
Now I am riding Zach’s bumper as I follow his line through turn five. I need to get past him. My crippling nerves have abated slightly now that I have made up my mind to take him after turn six. Adrenaline starts to pump through my bloodstream as I follow him into turn six. I’m running out of time; I need to go for it now, and I press down on the throttle. I’ve had enough of this, and I continue to weave back and forth, but he blocks my attempts at overtaking. Frustration starts to mount along with the panic that has returned with a vengeance. We’re coming up to turn seven, which is a slight bend in the track.
After that are the two most crucial turns, and I’m stuck riding his fucking bumper. Grim determination spurs me on. Fuck this for a laugh. I pull back slightly and create some space between us, shift down a gear and then floor it as I pull out behind him. Whether I take him by surprise or he’s not expecting me to go for it at this late stage, I don’t know, but I as I start to draw level, he realizes what’s happening and jerks to the side, trying to run me off the track. I accelerate harder while all regard for my safety goes out the window. I’ve fucked up his line, but I make the turn and accelerate, getting back up to speed as fast as I can and pull in front.
Don’t screw this up..
What did Max say about turn eight being the fastest? Fuck, I can’t remember. I grip the steering wheel and keep my foot pressed on the accelerator as I take the right hand corner at speed. Wow, that was fast. Now there’s only turn nine left. I change down and feel the dip right before the apex. When I come out of the turn, I floor it and barrel down the straight, pushing the V8 engine as hard as I can, squeezing every bit of horsepower out of the Camaro. To my elation, I cross the line seconds ahead of Zach and slow down, finally braking before bringing it to a complete halt.
Zach slows his car to a halt near me, his face is like thunder, and he gives me a filthy look that sends a shiver of fear through me. This isn’t the last I’ve seen or heard from Zach Anderson. But, for now, I can’t respond. I sit there, rooted to the spot, unable to process it. After all the self-doubt and worry, I won.
Oh, my fucking god. I won.
Zach turns his car and heads back to starting line, but I sit immobile, shaking slightly as the adrenaline rush subsides and the enormity of what I’ve done sinks in. Max yanks open my door and I notice his hands shake as he fumbles with the harness, cursing it for being so damn complicated. He is out of breath; his chest heaving and his eyes sparkle with excitement as he hauls me out of the car to stand in front of him. Gently, he pulls the helmet off my head and tosses it onto the driver’s seat. Dark eyes search mine, a whole myriad of emotions flitting across them.
“You did it,” he breathes.
“I did it.” I still can hardly believe it. His lips brush against mine, and he pulls back, dropping his hands to take hold of mine before pulling me into his body and wrapping his arms around me. Warm lips find mine as his tongue slides over mine. He backs me up until I feel the body of the Camaro at my back and I tilt my pelvis into him. A groan of pleasure travels from the back of his throat and reverberates down my body.
“Break it up, you two.” Aaron rushes over and squeezes between us, pulling me into a hug. “Knew you could do it, cuz.” He kisses the top of my head.
“You had a great start. Zach’s wheel spun but then he caught you on the second turn.”
“I didn’t think I would get past him.”
“Bold move, taking him like that,” Aaron adds, giving me an admiring glance. “You did well.”
“Did you bet on me?”
He pulls back and has the nerve to look wounded. “No, would I do that?”
“Yes,” Max and I blurt out at the same time.
He frowns as though I’ve offended him with my accusations before a wide smile spreads across his face. “I didn’t but Ryder did it for me. Cleaned up as well.”
“Well, you do have a baby on the way.” I nudge him, and he jumps out of the way.
“Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.” He starts to jog back to the bleachers, leaving us to climb back into the car, and I drive back to the starting line.