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“Theo seems kinder.” My attention finds him again and Megan laughs.

“Oh, he’ll still eat you alive. You just might enjoy it more.”

His number burns a hole in my phone.

I’ve dated a handful of guys, but it’s always been more about curiosity than connection. Sex might be a diversion, but it’s also underwhelming. It’s possible I’m just bad at it, though I’ll give the guys their share of the credit, too.

Or maybe I’ve never met someone I felt compelled to be closer to in that way. In every way.

“Before you worry about missing their pretty faces”—Megan interrupts my thoughts—“there’s an applied strategy class—tomorrow and Thursday—that both techs and drivers have to attend.”

“Have to?” Zane challenges.

Raj leans in. “Going to class matters more to the engineers than the drivers,” he explains. “We’re the ones who need to stick out all three years and get good grades if we want our degree. The drivers are just here to get their licenses and catch the eye of an F1 team.”

“So it’s more like an audition,” I say.

He nods. “They don’t need to stack accreditations. They need to win.”

All too soon, it’s time for the next class. I find myself sitting with Megan, Raj, Zane, and a couple dozen other students as the instructor runs through first-week-of-school admin.

“If you ace my class, along with the others, and graduate, the best of you have a hope of working on an F1 car,” he informs us at the end.

It sounds like a dream.

What I haven’t volunteered is that I’m not here to pursue a career in F1. I need to be local, and my aspirations are more practical. In a few years, I’ll be spending my days fixing Subarus and Toyotas, not tweaking high-performance engines.

The rest of the morning I take notes, trying to focus despite the throbbing in my hand. After class, I’m on the way down the hall when a voice has me pulling up.

“New Girl.”

I turn to find Theo Ashford smirking and leaning against a fountain, looking like a sexy Cheshire cat. “How’s the hand?”

“I heal fast.”

“Good. Around here, that’s very good.”

His stare sends sparks of anticipation through me. Damn, it’s like his attention gets converted to dopamine at a cellular level.

“Why are you talking to me?” I blurt. “Is it because your brother ran me over and you want me to keep your secret?”

“Or because I like you.”

Murmurs draw my attention. A few people look toward Theo with curiosity, adoration, or undisguised lust as they pass us.

“Doubtful. Apparently, you’re some kind of god and I’m merely mortal.”

When he throws back his head and laughs, it’s a fascinating sound, warm and rich and way too affecting. Before I can get too caught up, my phone rings.

“Boyfriend?” Theo asks as if he might care.

My nose wrinkles as I see the number. “Dad.”

“He must be proud of you being here.”

It’s my turn to laugh.

“I wish.”