“Addie?”
No reaction.
Worry stops the adrenaline whooshing in my veins and drowns out the background noise. Throwing the car to a stop that spews up a curtain of dust around us, I kill the engine and push the door open, sprinting around the front of the car, my heart pounding in sync with my steps.
Addie hasn’t moved a muscle, her head dipped forward, the helmet obscuring her face.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I say, yanking her door open. “It’s over. You’re fine.” I drop to my knees, fumbling with the clasp of her helmet. “Audrey? Talk to me.”
She sucks in a harsh breath, her trembling hands cuffing my wrists, fingers squeezing me gently. “Again,” she breathes.
“Jesus. Don’t fucking scare me like that,” I say, my hands dropping to her thighs. In a mechanical reflex, my thumb strokes her skin. “I thought you were in shock.”
“No, I... I wasn’t scared.” She lifts the helmet off, her hair tumbling out in wild waves. “I was just... holy shit! We were going so fast!” Her lips twist into a smile that makes my breath falter.
What the hell is she doing to me?
The crowd, the music, and the heat of the night crash back over me, but they’re distant, blurry around the edges because all I see, all Ifeel, is her.
The fire in her eyes, the joy in her voice... fuck.
This was a bad idea.
I’m only herfakeboyfriend.
EIGHT
Colt
WE GET INTO THREE MORE RACES before heading home for a few hours’ sleep. After a quick shower, I toss and turn in bed, directing my newly learned British insults toward myself. Not only because I’m on a suicide mission but also because Addie’s three doors down, either wet and naked in my shower, or already burrowed under my sheets.
The house carries a different vibe tonight. There’s a fulness I enjoy way too much.
A soft knock on the door quickens my pulse. Fuck. What the hell is she doing? Inhaling a deep breath, I fling my legs over the edge of the bed and pat over to the door, pulling it open to find Addie in the hallway.
Jesus fucking wept.
She stands there, wrapped in a towel, her long hair wet, the apples of her cheeks pink from the hot shower.
“Hey,” she whispers. “Sorry, I didn’t think to grab a suitcase from the car. Can I borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?”
I should’ve pretended to be asleep because this... this is fucking torture. This is God laughing in my face.
She’snakedunder that flimsy towel, and I’m hyperaware that all it’d take is hooking my finger in the knot on her chest, and I’d see all of her.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, doing everything in my power not to grab her waist, push her against the wall, and take her lips. “Come in.”
Come in?What the hell am I thinking? She shouldn’t be in my bedroom in the middle of the night.
She sends me a cheeky smile, hips swaying as she enters. Looking around, her fingers skim the surface of the dresser.
“I didn’t expect your bedroom to be so... cozy.” She smiles, scanning every inch of the place until she stops on my bed. “Looks comfortable,” she muses, taking one step forward.
“Don’t go anywhere near my bed, Addie,” I warn. “I won’t get that image out of my head. Ever.”
The pink of her cheeks turns brighter, but her smile doesn’t slip. What’s more, her tongue peeks out to moisten her full lips, and I have the urge to bite my fucking fist.
She’s doing this on purpose, like she can read my mind and knows how much every move she makes affects me. It’s a good job I’m wearing pajama bottoms on top of my boxers, or she’d get an eyeful of my hard dick tenting the fabric. Thankfully, the baggy pj’s keep it contained.
