“Whoa, what the fuck is this?” I hear a very familiar voice cheering in shock and surprise. “Holy shit, man. Why didn’t you tell me she was done?”
Nate and I turn around to find Jesse practically climbing on top of the Mustang in his excitement. “You fucking scratch it and you’re paying for a new paint job,” Nate warns.
“Dude?” Jesse grunts as he, Tyson, Puck, and Max start looking over it like it’s the newest family member. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I only finished it this afternoon. I picked up Tora and came straight here.”
“Fuck yeah,” Puck says, coming over to clap Nate on the back in that ridiculous way that guys do. “This is fucking awesome.”
The boys start talking cars and I get completely lost so I hang back with the girls. “Is he racing?” Courtney asks as she watches the boys drool over the Mustang.
“You can bet your ass on it,” I tell her. “It’s going to be huge.”
Nate turns around to find me. “I’ll be back in a minute. Stay here.” I nod and watch as he walks down the hill towards the track. The last time I watched him go down that hill was when I was sitting in my R8, listening to the loser beside me revving his engine like a swamp turd. I was preparing to race for the first and only time, but Nate was clearly not happy about it. Luckily, I had Jackson step in as a distraction so I could take off and win the race. The only downfall is that I still don’t think Nate has completely forgiven me. I have to give him credit though, he would have been terrified I’d get hurt.
I watch Nate as he talks to Aaron, the guy who’s in charge of all this shit, and ten minutes later, he makes his way back up the hill looking as happy as a clam. “Well?” I question as he grins at me.
“I’m up next.”
Jesus Christ. My heart begins to race.
“I swear to God, Nate. If you get hurt, I’m going to pulverize you and mince you into tiny little pieces.”
He walks straight into me and kisses me before I can complain any more. “Are you riding with me?” he questions with his lips softly brushing over mine.
“No way in hell.”
“Ok,” he laughs. “But you better be there at the finish line when I cross it. I’m going to need someone to swat away all the skanks wanting a piece of this awesomeness.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
He kisses me once again before walking to the Mustang and dropping into it. As he turns on the engine and allows it to roar to life, the guys cream their pants. It’s like the Mustang is the local whore who all the guys are trying to screw at the same time. It’s ridiculous how much attention they’re giving it. Though, I know it makes Nate feel like the man and that’s the kind of attitude I want him going into this race with.
The crowd clears a path for Nate as he drives down the hill to the starting line. People call out, not recognizing the car and wondering who the hell it is. I’m sure it won’t take them long to figure it out.
A black car pulls up beside him and I start having flashbacks to Nate’s last race. I swear, I might just die if I had to witness something like that again.
The tension begins to build as Jesse comes to stand by me. He takes my hand and I latch on to it with everything I’ve got as a girl dressed in basically a black string bikini walks between the two cars. She looks to Nate and then to the other driver, checking they’re both ready.
My heart races.
“Shit, I can’t believe he’s doing this,” Jesse murmurs beside me, not taking his eyes off Nate for even one second.
“Why not?” I question.
“Because he only just finished it. He should be taking it out, getting used to the feel of it and testing its limits before jumping head first into a race. What if he missed something while putting it back together?”
“Crap, Jess,” I groan. “Don’t put doubts in my mind. He’s going to be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m just saying, if it was me, I’d at least test it out first.”
I can’t help but agree with him but I’m not about to go and say it out loud. “You know Nate,” I tell him. “He’s been itching to do this since the accident. He’d never admit it but he needs to prove himself and remind everyone who’s on top.”
“I know,” he sighs as the woman standing between the cars drops the handkerchief and starts the race. “Shit,” Jesse grunts, suddenly not caring about our conversation, and to be honest, neither do I.