"He's also terrified of my dad."
"Everyone's terrified of Diesel. That's normal."
"It's annoying."
"It's protective. There's a difference."
Maybe they're right. Maybe Rush is just being careful.
But careful is boring and I'm tired of waiting.
I'm in the lab late when my phone buzzes. It's a text from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: Stop pushing.
I know it's Rush without him signing it, I save his number and quickly type back.
Me: Or what?
Rush: Or I'll do something we'll both regret.
Me: Promises, promises.
Rush: I'm serious.
Me: So am I. Stop running and I'll stop pushing.
He doesn't respond and I smile at my phone.
Game on.
I show up at the clubhouse again and this time Rush isn't in the garage. He's at the bar with Tank.
I walk over and slide onto the stool next to him.
"Miss me?" I ask.
"No."
"Liar."
Tank looks between us and grins. "I'll leave you two alone."
"Don't," Rush says.
"Too late." Tank walks away and Rush glares at his back.
I order wine. When it comes I take a sip, then I look at Rush.
"You texted me," I say.
"I told you to stop pushing."
"And I told you to stop running. Looks like we're both bad at following instructions."
His jaw tightens. "This isn't funny."
"I think it's hilarious."