From the moment I met Tyler, I knew he was my missing piece. Yes, we were different, but it never mattered to me. We matched where it counted. He was all I wanted.
Now here I am, and Tyler has a business and is a homeowner. He's settled into himself a lot in the past four years, but he's still taking risks that I don't like. The image of him sitting on his shiny black motorcycle with a cocky grin on his face flashes through my mind. I hated him riding it. I told him it was a death trap and that he should sell it, but he wouldn't listen.
Now he's traded the motorcycle for a shiny red car.
Maybe I should tell him I don't approve. Maybe he'll listen to me this time and let one of the others take his place, but somehow, I doubt it. Anyway, I've only been back in his life for five seconds, so I don't have the right to dictate how he lives, however much I might want to.
It doesn't take long for us to arrive at The Passage. It's an odd, eerie place surrounded by deserted industrial buildings with windows like broken, blackened eyes, and graffiti that tells the story of the deprivation in this area. The road itself is wide enough, and there is already a long line of vehicles parked up and a swarming crowd of people. "We'll park up here," Andrew says, glancing over his shoulder at me. He finds space behind a flashy purple truck, and I leave the vehicle tentatively.
Tyler told his boys to watch over me. I'm sure he wouldn't have bothered with that if there wasn't the real chance of danger.
I place myself between the towering walls of Andrew and Damien as we weave our way forward to where Tyler and Greg have parked up nearer the front. I guess there is space left for the racers.
"Cory is here," Andrew says.
"And Greeno," Damien adds.
"The boys will have their work cut out to beat those guys." Andrew glances down at me. "You sure you're alright here, Sandy? We can take you back if you want."
"I'm fine," I say, even though we just passed a guy who had a very obvious gun stuck down the back of his low-rise jeans. "Who's racing first?"
"There are two cars further ahead in the line-up. Then it'll be Greg first and then Tyler."
"Right, and are there prizes, or is all of this just to make men feel like they have bigger cocks?"
Damien snorts, and even though it's dark, I'm sure I can see the hint of a flush across the tender skin beneath his eyes.
"None of us have anything to worry about in the cock department," Andrew says, his mouth quirking at the side into the cutest smile, revealing one very endearing dimple.
"So, then there must be prizes?" I raise my eyebrows, then lose concentration as we pass a girl wearing a pink bikini who's draping herself over Greg's car, blowing kisses in his direction. "Seriously?" I say to Andrew. "I guess this is what you guys come down here for."
"Not tonight," he says.
"Hey, Tina. Get off my car," Greg yells out the window.
"What?" she says, pouting in his direction. I can see the outline of her pussy through the thin fabric, and a tattoo that says SPANK ME comes into view across her lower back as she stands by his window.
"You're clashing with my paintwork," Greg says.
"Never bothered you before." Tina switches her hip, resting her hand in the dip at her waist.
"That was before. This is now."
"And what's so different about now?"
Andrew clears his throat, and Tina turns, her other hand going to her sunbed-bronzed hip. Her eyes rake over Andrew, then Damien, before stopping on me.
"Well, who's this little princess?" she says.
Greg gets out of the car, drawing himself up to his full slight slowly and for maximum impact. He looms over Tina, but he's not interested in her. Instead, he walks around her and ducks to press a soft kiss on my cheek. "You ready to cheer for me?" he asks as my heart flutters like a butterfly pinned to a board.
"I don't think you need my cheers," I say softly, stumbling into the lulling effect his dark eyes have on me. This close, I can smell his scent. This close, I'm overwhelmed by the memory of his body over mine.
"Oh, I need them, Sandy," he says. For just a second, his hand finds mine, sliding down the edge of my pinkie and then letting go. It's a fleeting touch that buzzes my nerves in crazy ways.
"I'll cheer for you then," I say softly.
"And what about me?" Tyler steps in front of me as Greg moves aside.
"Do you need my cheers too?"
Tyler blinks, his pretty green eyes obliterated by the flash of his long black lashes for just a second. "I need them." He takes my hand, holding it tenderly, then brings it to his lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to my knuckles.