Supercharged Love(2)
Nothing much has changed in the four years since she’s been gone. I still race on the quarter mile and the groupies are still as young. I’m the only one getting older. I have held on to my manwhore reputation, but it is just that. After Carly—the only one whose name I remember—I didn’t sleep with any of them. I felt worse after sleeping with her and didn’t want to relive that. But after I learned of Leigh’s last visit months ago, I slept with a girl and I’ve regretted it ever since.
It was after a race and she climbed into my car with me. I should have been over the moon after winning, but I wasn’t. I didn’t feel the usual high or exhilarated feeling. Instead, I felt empty and I knew it had everything to do with Aaron letting it slip that Leigh had been back mid-week for another fly-by visit. As usual, I didn’t see her and I didn’t know why I kept hoping that one of these days she would come find me. It was never going to happen. I was pissed off and lonely, and when the girl climbed into my car, I thought what the hell. So I slept with her and the next day felt even worse, even lonelier, and even more annoyed at myself for still wanting Leigh and for feeling I’d betrayed her. It is never going to happen for us; she doesn’t want me, so why can’t I let her go?
All day, I bide my time. It takes everything in me not to race back to the hospital and stand guard at Hank’s bedside until I see her. There’s a race tonight and I won’t miss it for the world. She’ll be there—I know she will. I can feel it.
When I arrive at the quarter mile three girls accost me straight away, and while I give the appearance of listening to them, I’m not. My eyes scan the groups of people who have gathered, looking for one person in particular. Then I spot Aaron with his arms wrapped around Beth, kissing the shit out of her, I know Leigh will show. If anything, she’ll come because Aaron and Beth are here. For the first time all night my body relaxes and the knot in my stomach eases a fraction.
Out of the corner of my eye something catches my attention. And then I see her, looking in my direction. Before she can look away, I catch her eye. My eyes widen and a slow smile starts to spread over my face. All air is sucked out of my lungs and time stands still. It’s been four years since I let her walk out of the guest room after Aaron’s party. If I had known it would be four long fucking years until I saw her, held her, or kissed her again, I would never have let her go. But I’ve spent years burying how I really feel about her. Seeing her again, standing on the quarter mile, has brought all those buried feelings and a ton of memories rushing to the surface. I’m transported to another place and another time—to when I first saw her standing on the quarter mile.
The three girls are standing with me, admiring my STi. I’m being kind—they don’t give a shit what I drive, they’re only interested in me superficially. And I’m only interested in one girl. And now, she’s here, standing in front of my STi, looking at it like … fuck, I don’t know what, but I wish she would look at me like that. It makes my blood heat up and my dick stir. Now, she’s all grown up and even more beautiful than before. Long dark hair hangs down her back and skinny jeans tucked into boots make her legs appear even longer, going on for miles. Her legs were always one of my favorite parts of her body. She appears more comfortable, with a confidence about her that comes with age and experience, and it’s so fucking sexy. My breath catches in my throat and my heart slams in my chest. Knowing she would be back isn’t enough to prepare me for the shock of seeing her. And the way she’s looking at my STi … fuck it makes my body ache for her touch, for her to rake her gaze over my body in the same way she’s doing to my car.
“Nice,” she says as she admires the STi, and I nod my agreement. “But you can’t beat a bit of American muscle.” She gives me a pointed look, taunting me, and I see red. Nothing’s changed. She might only be here because of her dad’s accident, but I don’t plan to let her leave again. Ever.
It has taken me this long to realize I am in love with her and have been since I met her. There is more to life than racing, and I wish I’d realized it sooner.
This time, I’m not taking any of her shit. Leigh Storm is staying exactly where she belongs. With me.
Chapter One
It had always been the two of us, even before we left home. Our mom was useless—a complete waste of space and not interested in either of us. She was quite happy to take any money Meghan earned working part-time jobs and use it to fund her binge drinking instead of providing a home for us. Because of her lack of parenting, my grandmother practically raised us. Then she died and we held on by the skin of our teeth until Meghan turned twenty-one. We had it all planned out and on the nights when our mom never bothered to come home, we would lie in our bunk beds and go over the plan. As soon as we had enough money we were leaving. I never questioned whether she would leave me behind. We were all each other had and no way was one going without the other. On the night of her twenty-first birthday, while most girls would be out celebrating with their friends, Meghan packed up what belongings we had and threw them into the trunk of my GTO. There wasn’t much—just clothes, a ton of makeup, a few photos, and her beloved record collection. I had even less.