Don’t fucking kiss her. Don’t.
“Fuck everyone else. We’re here for you to have a good time. Nothing else matters.”
She blinks twice, like my statement requires extra processing, and that’s when I realize that this womanalwayshas to care what people think. Every moment of every day, she’s being watched and judged for everything she does.
She may be the rich one, who has never had to worry about money a day in her life, but I never considered how living like that would impact someone. It’s all she knows, and suddenly, I want to change that for her. I want her to get crazy and do something new and different without the fear of judgment. I want her tolive, not just go through the safe motions.
“Nothing else matters,” she repeats quietly. A smile curls her lips upward as she considers the statement. “No one here knows who we are or cares, so I don’t care what they think. Let’s do this.”
Forty-Six
Scarlett
Gabriel drives like he was born with a steering wheel in his hands. After watching him effortlessly maneuver his giant truck through the bustling traffic of Manhattan, I should have known he’d race like a pro.
Even so, with his superior skills, he doesn’t crush me. After a few hesitant laps, I finally get the hang of it. Now we’re lined up at the start again, waiting for the green flag to wave and let us go for our final race. Except this time, I’m at the front of the line and Gabriel is at the back of the pack. I know the minor handicap won’t keep him from winning, but I’m going to try my damnedest to make a good showing.
That’s when I realize that coming here, to this go-kart-racing track, is the most fun I’ve had—other than Saturday night—inyears.I’ve laughed more than I thought possible. I’ve cheered on little kids as they battle out what appears to be a death match, while waiting for our next race.
And it’s all because ofhim.
I take one more quick glance behind me and give Gabriel a thumbs-up. He nods and gives it back to me. That small gesture, a thumbs-up, sends more of a charge through me than the smoothest move Chadwick could ever have dreamed of pulling.
More than anything, today has made me realize that my body has absolutelyno problemgetting excited over a man. It just had to be therightman.
Before I can think more on that discovery, the flag drops and we’re off.
I grip the wheel with both hands, steering around the corners, trying to stick to the center, because I know I’m not fast enough to take the inside track. I make it almost half a lap before Gabriel’s kart flies by me. I catch a hint of the grin beneath the cover of his helmet, and a surge of joy rises in me. Instantly, I snapshot it in my brain and caption ithappy gabe.
He looks so different when he smiles, and I want to give him more of it. I want to see that expression on his face again and again.
I force myself to focus on the race, but it’s nearly impossible. I’m ... I’m ... in serious danger of falling for this guy who I have no business even knowing he exists.
He’s not for me.
We may live in the same city, but we’re from different worlds.
Yet, for the first time in my entire life, I don’t care about any of that. I love how he makes me feel, and I don’t want it to stop.
This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I need in my life. Somethingreal.
Three laps later, all but two of the other drivers and me are off the track. I don’t care that one kid looks about sixteen and the other is in his early twenties, I’m not going to be last.No, sir. I will not.
The older kid edges me out for the inside lane, but I jam my accelerator to the floorboard of the kart and slide in right behind him, cutting off the younger boy. I don’t know anything about racing, but I once sawDays of Thunder, and I remember that whole scene about drafting when Tom Cruise is pushing the sugar packets up Nicole Kidman’s leg. I know he said something about doing a slingshot around the guy in front of you, but I don’t think I’m equipped for that level of expertise. I’ll settle for not finishing last.
I see the checkered flag waving up ahead and the younger kid is attempting to pass me, right before the finish.Not happening. I’m going for it.I jerk my steering wheel to the right and bump into him.Didn’t the old guy in the movie say something about rubbing being part of racing?
I don’t know, but it slows the kid down long enough for me to cross the finish line on the tail of the older kid—andI’m not last!
As soon as I swing my kart into the lane where I’m supposed to park, I unbuckle my seat belt and remove my helmet. Before I can climb out, Gabriel is there, lifting me into the air and swinging me around.
“You beat him! I saw that bump. You killed it, ladybug. Fucking proud of you.”
I’m dizzy, and it has nothing to do with him spinning me in circles. I stare down at him, and there’s only one thing I can possibly do.
I lean down and press my lips to his.
In that single instant, we stop moving and his arms wrap around me tighter, pressing me against him from ribs to hips.