She leaned back slowly, pretending her skin wasn’t still tingling from that touch.
They both knew she already had.
?
As they pulled in, floodlights blinked on overhead, cutting sharp paths through the dark. The track unfolded in front of them—smooth and shadowless, its curves catching the light like something alive and waiting.
Somewhere out on the far side, an engine peeled through the silence—deep, rough, the kind of sound that made your pulse jump before your thoughts caught up.
Adrenaline stirred before she could catch it.
Arden blinked. “Is this…?”
Gideon cut the engine. The glint in his eyes said everything.
“You said you liked excitement.”
“I thought you meant something like sushi.”
He didn’t smile, not quite.
“This felt more fitting.”
She stared at him for a moment, caught between disbelief and the kind of thrill that licked at the edges of fear. Her mouth tugged into a grin, slow and sly, a flicker of fire behind it.
“You really don’t hold back, do you?” she said, bone-dry. But her eyes gave her away.
His gaze held hers. “Not when it counts.”
He stepped out and came around to her side. When the door opened, a rush of air swept in—cool against her skin, tinged with the raw bite of fuel and track rubber. The low throb of engines carried across the lot, steady as a heartbeat.
She folded her arms, cocking her head as her eyes tracked the nearest curve. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What exactly are we doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just slipped a hand into his pocket and held out the keys.
“You drive.”
“You’re seriously letting me drive this?”
“Just don’t crash it.”
She took the keys. Their fingers brushed—heat. Intent. A quiet exchange of control.
“Oh, I won’t.”
She slid behind the wheel. The Roadster came alive beneath her, its growl deep and steady, like it was waiting to be unleashed.
She gripped the wheel. Breathed.
And hit the gas.
The car launched forward, tires gripping the track, like it knew the way. Laughter broke from her chest, sharp and unexpected, as speed wrapped around her, reckless and clean.
The Roadster devoured the asphalt, cornering with ease. Each curve pulled tighter, her movements fluid, reactive. Her pulse surged, rising to meet the rhythm of the machine.
Beside her, Gideon said nothing, but she felt his eyes. Watching. Measuring. Tracking her with quiet precision.
“Enjoying the show?” she asked, breathless, glancing at him.
