Page 123 of Racing Hearts
“I know it,” I admit. “Now either get out or share your food. I need to place an order before I go,” I mutter, making them both laugh.
Yes, I fit in here. I’ll admit I miss my old garage sometimes, and I still join the odd race every now and again, but my future is bright, and Evan was right. I deserve to dream, and Starfire Racing is the place to do that.
By the time I shower and dress, I run to the showcase so I’m not late.
Luckily, the venue is the school, and I make it there to find a line to get in. It might only be a student showcase, but the recent attacks have everyone’s eyes on this school, and before that, it was one of the only high-profile colleges to continually pump out the best of the best. Evan explained that even scouts for magazines and agents come to check out future acquisitions and keep their eye on students, so it’s an honor to be involved.
Previously, I scoffed at the showcase out of fear, but now, I proudly stand in line. I see Lally waving me to the door. Some people eye me in confusion and others in anger because I’m getting in before them, but I hurry through the open door as she links her arm with mine. “Come on, he’s freaking out. He needs you.” She leads me through the glossy reception area, past the ticket sales table, and to the gallery beyond. “You look amazing by the way. He is going to freak.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly as I hurry through the gallery, barely seeing any of the other students’ submissions. My eyes land on Evan, who is pacing at the very end where a huge rectangle of the room has been cordoned off. Everything else fades, and all I see is him. Even Lally’s voice disappears into the background until I know I’m just staring. “Huh?” I ask, blinking as I look down at Lally.
She snorts and pushes me his way. “Go on, Romeo, you’ll figure it out.” Nodding in thanks, I quicken my steps so I’m practically running to him, slipping past the rope to reach him.
He must hear me because he turns, and I get the full Evan Shaw effect. I actually stumble. His hair is wavy, with two pieces hanging down in front as usual, and his ears are exposed, stacked with piercings. His lips are rosy like his cheeks, his eyes darkened with liner, but his outfit blows me away.
He looks like a prince in an old-school fairy-tale book.
He’s wearing loose, flowing white pants with a gold belt, a sheer shirt with open buttons, exposing his tan chest nearly all the way to his navel, and an oversized blazer. He looks like a goddamn knight in shining armor.
A frost prince.
If he’s the white knight, the prince, then I’m the goddamn villain coming to claim his soul.
I’m dressed head to toe in black. Even my shoes are black, formal, and shiny. My suit pants are ironed, paired with a black, long-sleeved, button-up shirt. I couldn’t bring myself to add a tie or coat, but my hair is styled.
I cleaned up as best as I could, wanting to impress him, and when his eyes drop to me and widen, I know I succeeded. “Jesus, Anders. You should wear that every day. I mean every day.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I smirk as I pull him closer and lean down to steal a kiss. “Though I might make some exceptions if you dress like this.” I bring my lips to his ear. “You look good enough to eat. In fact, I just might.”
He smacks my chest with a bright laugh, his eyes twinkling with genuine happiness, and my heart is so full, it feels like it might burst. Cupping his handsome face, I stare into his eyes. “I love you, Evan Shaw,” I declare, pushing everything I can into those words.
I’m not good with words like him, or able to capture a moment through a lens, but I want to seize every moment with him. I want to give him the words to make him understand the depths of my devotion and my love for him.
“Is that right?” Taking my hand, he steps back and gestures around us. “Then figure out how I feel for yourself.”
My eyes widen as I look around at the photographs.
“I know you were worried how people would react, but they aren’t tasteless. I really love them,” he starts to ramble.
“Evan,” I say, and he stops speaking as I bring my astonished gaze back to him. “I love them.” I mean it. You can feel the need, love, and obsession pouring from every frame. Yes, I’m shirtless and posing, but it’s more than that. I don’t even understand photography, but it’s the angles and the way he shot me. I can actually feel him through his work.
I walk around, looking at them, and he silently walks by my side as I stop at the last one. “You really love me,” I murmur into the silence. His barked laugh makes me grin. Uncaring who is watching, I pull him into my arms and kiss him deeply.
“I love you, Alek Anders,” he says brightly, and I swear I have never been so happy. Hearing those words heals something inside me.
Evan Shaw heals me every day.
“They are amazing. Everyone is going to love them.”
“Do you think so?” he asks, looking at me for reassurance.
“If not, then they are morons, and I’ll hit them for you. Evan, they are so good. You are a goddamn rock star. They’ll see it,” I promise as I take his hand. The last one along the back wall is large, the first and last photograph you see.
It’s not me—well not just me, and I smile when I realize where it’s from.
It’s us, our little family, from the night of the attack before everything went to shit. We are smiling at the camera, and in the center, smiling goofily, is Tommy.
“I figured everyone could remember him for the way he was. I know it’s probably not a good thing right now, but when I look at this, I remember how happy we were, and I wanted to replace the last image I have of him with this—his smile and his love for us all.”