Page 63 of Crash into me
“Uber,” Ryder replies, holding onto Kate. “We’re all getting fucked up tonight.” He tosses a stack of bills onto the bed, and I plant my hands on my hips.
“Did you two race without me?” I frown.
“Yes, but only because you need more practice.” So that’s what he was doing the other night when he couldn’t come over.
I roll my head back. “We’ve been practicing every day,” I groan. After school, we all ride together down winding roads and straightaways; I know he knows I can ride. He’s just scared, but I don’t blame him.
“Your first race is Saturday night,” Foster tells me. “We’ll go after ballet.”
I jump on my heels to kiss him. “I’m so excited!”
“Yeah, yeah … Uber’s here,” he replies, slipping his phone back in his pocket.
* * *
Premiere is massive,with studio lights shooting up from the parking lot that burst into the sky. Being opening weekend, it’s packed. Foster and Ryder are getting us tickets at the counter while we wait near the entrance.
“I cannot believe you’re racing.” Kate frowns. “I don’t like it one bit.”
I simply shrug. “We have to pull this money together.”
“I can ask my parents.”
I shake my head. “I’m not involving anyone else. Warren did us a solid with Sophie, but after we pay back debts, I fully plan on repaying him.”
“Speak of the devil,” Kate juts her finger out to Brett’s jeep as they pull into the lot.
Four men walk up to us, helmets in hand. I don’t recognize any of their faces and a worry bubbles inside of me the closer they get. Are they with the Keeper? Are they going to hurt us?
“Hey ladies.” A blond-haired, green-eyed one grins.
“Hi.” I wiggle back towards Kate, who is oblivious to everything.
“Hey! You must know our boyfriends.” She saves us.
“Maybe not.” The tall one with a jaw as sharp as a knife peers down at me, but it isn’t with a face of anger. It’s not threatening; it’s heated. He’s flirting. My heart calms a little, knowing we’re safe. “I don’t see any boyfriends.” He peers around playfully, his neck covered in a tattoo of shackles.
“You touch my girl, Chains, and I’ll fucking end you,” Foster sneers, placing is hand on Chain’s shoulder.
“Ghost?” He laughs, and the men both hug. I guess the racing circuit is a small world. “What the hell are you doing, man?”
Foster slings his arm around me, claiming me as his girl. I toss my hand up to lay lazily against his. “Taking the girls out,” Foster replies. “What are you doing down here? I thought you were racing down in Boca.”
“Pool for the amateur race is too big to miss.” He elbows him.
These aren’t friends. They’re competition. My competition. But Foster doesn’t look fazed. “My girl will be waiting for you at the finish line,” Foster teases him.
“Oh, wow.” Chains applauds. “That’s cool as fuck.”
A group of girls walk by, taking Chain’s attention along with his crew. They follow him inside, and we wait for Warren and Brett.
“So, I’ll be racing alone?” A little worry creeps into me.
He pulls me in tighter. “You’ll do great.” He looks forward and scoffs. “Who wears a fucking letterman to a club?” Foster chides as they walk up.
I slap his chest. “You leave him alone.”
“I still feel like he likes you,” he whispers. I don’t mention it was never me that Brett was in love with, but Foster.