CHAPTER 20
Lilah
The engine revsbeneath me as I teasingly push on the gas and brake at the same time. I glance over at the three of them lined up next to me and grin, my heart pounding in my chest.
“You’re going down, boys,” I say, gesturing with two fingers from my eyes to them.
Rafe looks at me like he wants to go down, but not in the way I’m talking about. Heat rushes to my face, and I squirm in my seat at the imagery of him on his knees. Maybe I should lose. The thought is brief and discarded as soon as the light goes from red to yellow to green.
Putting the pedal to the metal, I fly off the starting line, laughing freely as they come up behind me. As we take the first turn, Elliott edges past me, his kart brushing close enough to make my pulse spike. Miles is right behind him, his determined expression almost comical. I push my foot against the gas pedal, taking the curve a little faster than I normally would, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Once we straighten out, I give a little wave as I pass them both again. The race continues that way, and I think I laughharder than I have in a long time. Maybe what I needed all along to feel like myself again was to act like a kid. Whatever this feeling is, I want to embrace it, hold onto it tight.
On the last lap, when Elliott takes the lead, I let up off the gas, my heart doing a strange flip. I’ve had a few flirty conversations with him, but now I realize I might want something more. My stomach twists as he flies over the finish line, and I seriously just let him win.
As I come to a stop next to him, he’s already removing his helmet, a grin plastered on his face. He climbs out and kneels down to my level next to my go-kart, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me catch my breath.
“Looks like I won the grand prize.” He grins widely, watching me intently.
“I’m pretty sure she let you win,” Miles grumbles, like a kid who didn’t get the last treat, as he climbs out of his mini-vehicle.
Suppressing a smile, I glance between them. “I told you I was good.”
“I think we should all get that time with you, since you clearly didn’t try to win,” Rafe says, his voice closer than I expect, sending a shiver down my spine.
I fumble with the strap of my helmet, my fingers trembling slightly. Elliott easily reaches over and unclips it, lifting it from my head and smoothing my hair down in the sweetest gesture. I swear I’m a puddle of warm feelings when he stands back up and offers me a hand. The idea of being away from the cameras with each of them sounds like a dangerous idea.
One that I’m almost too willing to agree to.Shit. What am I doing?
Not taking the pill or wearing the lotion. Taunting Rafe until he was on the edge. Now this—do I want these men for myself? Oh, fuck me. I think I do. No, I know I do.
As I stand up, accepting Elliott’s hand, I catch sight of one of the film crew lingering near the corner of the track. My breath hitches. The guy—tall, with a camera slung over his shoulder—watches me, his gaze a little too sharp, a little too knowing. Panic flutters in my chest. Does he know? Can he tell I didn’t use my blockers?
Suddenly, this show’s about more than proving to the world that I’m not broken. It’s about proving to myself that I’m not, by going after a future I thought I never wanted. I can’t go home. That’s admitting to the world I am broken, that I let Jared and Tabby damage me beyond repair.
“I think that’s fair,” I say, taking Elliott’s offered hand and climbing out of the go-kart. “I’m obviously better at racing than you three,” I add playfully, forcing myself to focus on the moment and not the fear creeping up my spine.
“Better than Rafe, for sure,” Miles jokes. He runs his fingers through his hair, and it falls into place effortlessly.
Laughing, I glance at Rafe. “He’s like a Koopa with a Super Glider.”
Rafe huffs out a sound that’s between exasperation and a laugh. “You playMario Kart?”
“I’m the best at that too,” I say with a grin, but my thoughts are still on the cameraman, his gaze burning into the back of my head. I keep my expression light, but inside, I’m praying no one notices anything off.
Catching sight of the cameras, the weight of the situation presses down on me again. My smile falters as I follow Miles over to the mini-golf shack. It's easy to forget they're there, recording our every move. Is this what Ashlyn means when she says the cameras don’t bother her? She just tunes them out, no longer seeing them as a threat?
Elliott falls into step next to me, his hand brushing the back of mine, sending a tingle up my arm. I want to tangle my fingers with his, but a part of me hesitates, knowing thatevery gesture is being watched. “You probably shouldn’t challenge Rafe when it comes to Mario Kart, he’s pretty good,” he says, his voice light but teasing.
“I can think of a few bets I’d like to win,” Rafe adds suggestively, his gaze heated.
Picking up a putter, I force a playful smile. “I’m pretty good at mini-golf too.”
Miles grabs a green handle and picks up a scoring sheet and pencil. “Sounds like another opportunity for alone time,” he says with a wink.
My stomach somersaults at his words, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Okay, but no blockers.”
What am I saying? Oh crap. I’m deeper in this than I thought. Not only am I breaking the rules, but now I’m asking them to as well.
