“I haveFind My Phoneon Spencer’s phone. I always know where my brother is.”
“Let’s go.”
“To the race?” Constance looks at me sceptically.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun. Right?” It’s pathetic, but I’m using any excuse to go and see him.
“Okay, but can we eat first? Chicken casserole sounds really good.”
“Sure, let’s go. My mum’s cookingisgood,” I tell her.
“Wait, your mum cooks? I thought she just had your chef make it or something.”
“She likes cooking dinner.” I shrug.
“Hot and she cooks? Your mum is a MILF.” Constance wiggles her eyebrows up and down. “Although your dad’s fucking hot too. No wonder you’re so beautiful. You won out in the gene pool.”
“Thank you.” I feel the blush creep up my cheeks at her compliment.
“Are you sure we’re not going to get in trouble for taking one of your dad’s cars?” Constance seems nervous. This is the tenth time she’s asked that.
“You saw the garage. He’s not going to miss it,” I tell her. “Besides, I take them all the time. There’s only one car that’s off-limits, some old Rolls my mum bought him when they first met.”
I follow Constance’s directions, and when I pull into the street she mentioned, she directs me to a spot to park. The spot just so happens to be right next to Ares’s pretentious, rich-boy car.
Stepping out of my dad’s Lamborghini, I look around and notice that this car, along with Ares’s, is very out of place amongst the souped-up street racers. We get exactly five steps away from my parking spot before a very pissed-off Ares is storming towards me and Constance.
“He looks happy to see you. Maybe you should kiss him again,” Constance whispers from beside me.
“Do not tell anyone,” I hiss at her.
“Pinkie swear I won’t,” she says. “Want me to stick by you for this? Or give you privacy?”
“Um, maybe go and see Spencer. I’ll catch up with you.” I appreciate that she asked and didn’t just leave me. I think Constance could turn out to be a really good friend to have.
“What are you doing here?” Ares stops just a few feet in front of me.
I tilt my head to the side. “Racing. It’s a street race, right? I have a car.”
Ares laughs, but it’s not a funny, humorous laugh. No, it’s anyou’re out of your mindkind of laugh. “Over my dead fucking body are you racing.”
“I don’t know what gave you the impression that you’re the boss of me, Ares De Bellis, but newsflash… you’re not. I can do whatever I want. And I will do whatever I want.” I storm past him, making my way up to Spencer. “How do I get to race?”
“You don’t,” Spencer says. Constance elbows him. “What? She can’t race.”
“Do you want to put your money on that fact?” I raise a brow at him.
“I’m not racing you in your daddy’s car, princess,” Spencer says.
“Fine, if you don’t want to race me, I’ll go find someone else who will.” As I turn, I hit a brick wall. Otherwise known as Ares.
“Take my car, race her,” he tells Spencer, throwing a set of keys out.
“You sure?” Spencer asks.
“Yep.” Ares wraps his hand around my elbow. “I’m riding with you.”
I try to pull it away, but he doesn’t ease up. “Why?”
