Page 24 of Racing Hearts
He ignores me, and at the next stoplight, I lean over, grab it, and click it into place. When I look up, I find him inches away. He wears a serious expression on his face, glancing from my lips to my eyes.
I swallow hard, my gaze dropping to his when a horn blares behind us, breaking the moment, and I move away, gunning it.
It doesn’t take me too long to pull up at Evan’s dorm, idling in the parking lot. I frown at my own hands as an unfamiliar feeling grips me. I’m almost reluctant to let him leave, feeling sad about how quickly we got here.
Idiot.
When I glance over, he’s watching me, seemingly with no intention of getting out, and I relax, ignoring my internal battle. “What?” I finally ask, my voice softer in the dark, empty night.
It’s just us, and we are so close I could reach out and touch him.
I won’t, but the thought is there.
“What happened to your arm and hands?” he asks, taking me by surprise.
I glance down at them. I’d forgotten about them despite the pain. I shrug, and he sighs, grabbing his bag and preparing to open the door. Something about that makes me feel uneasy, so I reach over and slam the door shut, sitting back as his wide eyes turn to me. “I was racing tonight, and there was an accident. I helped someone after they crashed but got cut up.”
“Racing?” He frowns, looking around my car. “As in car racing?”
I nod. “Street racing, to be exact.”
He blinks, sitting back in his seat, and my tight chest seems to ease. “I didn’t know you raced. Makes sense though. Are they okay?”
“I hope so. Their friends took them to the hospital,” I reply, although I didn’t check further than that.
“But their friends didn’t help them and you did?” he asks, and I shrug, looking out the front window. “Does the great Alek Anders have a soft side?”
“Don’t go thinking stupid shit like that. I just didn’t want to be one of those dicks sitting on the sideline, watching while someone got hurt,” I mutter.
“Uh-huh, sure, whatever you tell yourself. So you race this car? Isn’t it illegal?” he asks, getting more comfortable as he turns to me.
I sit back in my seat and turn to him. I should make him leave, tell him to stop asking questions. Maybe it’s the night making this feel like a dream, or maybe it’s how close I came to dying, but I answer.
“Not this car. I have a Skyline I race. I built it from scratch. It’s illegal, so don’t tell anyone, rich boy,” I warn.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He gives me a wide smile that drives me fucking insane, and it does something weird to my chest. “So you build cars? Alice mentioned you work at a garage.”
For a moment, I stiffen. “What, not good enough for you rich bastards?”
He blinks, taken aback. “What do you mean? I was just curious if you enjoy it.”
I think about his words as I look at him. There’s no judgment in his tone or eyes, just confusion, so I relax. “I do in some ways, but also, it’s all I’m good at. I needed money for Alice, so it made sense.”
“I doubt it’s all you’re good at. I have a feeling you are actually good at many things but don’t let yourself be.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Maybe you’re scared to want anything more.” He shrugs. “Or maybe you have just spent so long taking care of your sister, you stopped looking at your own life.”
“You don’t know anything,” I snap as I look away.
“No? You drive her to school nearly every day so she doesn’t have to walk and she’s safe. You work at a garage and race to earn money for her school. You love her so deeply, it’s evident. You do everything for her, but what do you do for yourself?” he asks, and I glance over. My chest tightens at how deeply he understands me with just a few meetings.
The truth is, I don’t know.
“If you want to be a mechanic and nothing else, good, then do it. Do what makes you happy, but don’t do it just because you’re scared or because you are living for your sister. I don’t think she would like that. She loves you, and she wants you to be happy.”
“And what do you know about being happy, rich boy?” I counter defensively, lashing out in fear.