Page 85 of Crash into me
“They’re so good.” I grin.
I place my arrangement on the coffee table in front of me, something to bring a smile to my face as we watch a very terrifying live stream.
“They knew we’d be worried.” Her fingertips trace the soft petals of the roses.
“There’s Callum.” I jut my finger to the left-hand side of the screen when he pulls up to the line. Ryder parks beside him, but Foster goes more towards the center. “They’re all getting ready.” I sink back into the couch, watching with bated breath.
Foster’s directly in front of the camera. His shield is down, but I know he’s looking directly at the lens for me. He takes his gloved hand and presses it to his helmet, before pulling it away.
“He just blew you a kiss.” Kate swoons, laying over me.
There’s a GoPro attached to his helmet, along with everyone else. We have a live feed of every racer. We’re going to be watching it from their eyes.
The speakers bleed with the sound of an announcer, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the outer banks during Hurricane Adsen. Only rules are no psyching out another racer. Play fair, play nice, and get to the end in one piece.”
The rain is falling in sheets outside, but thanks to the domed shape of the waterproof casing on the cameras, it slips right off them. It isn’t a crystal-clear picture, but it’s substantially better than the coverage I thought we’d be getting.
Nerves are settling in as they all dip into position. It pans to Foster’s camera, and a flag girl walks out. She’s getting drenched from the rain and swaying from the wind, but the moment she pulls that flag down, they take off.
An unknown camera pops up. “They won’t keep it on Foster,” I tell Kate, snagging a handful of popcorn from the bowl.
“Why not?”
“He’s always first, so they won’t have coverage of anyone else if they stay on him.”
She nods. “Are they okay?”
“I think so.” The position we’re watching from is the fifth racer, so we have a good view of Callum, Ryder, and two other guys. But Foster is ahead and barely a little blip on the TV. “I’m more worried about the wind than—”
“Oh my God!” Kate screeches as one of the racers collides with the ground. I have to look away from the familiar site as they screech across the pavement. “Was it one of ours?”
I peel my eyes open as they position to a different camera feed. Now we’re watching from fourth. “Our boys are good,” I assure her, pointing to their bikes.
I don’t think I can watch much more of this. It’s different thinking about what’s happening, but seeing it? This is an entirely different type of nightmare.
“Foster!” Kate shouts.
“Is he okay?” My eyes are glued to the screen. It’s showing from the second-place racer now, and it’s not one of our guys from the looks of his shiny white gas tank. Foster’s still in the lead, making good timing. They’re coming to what looks like the last stretch if the purple light at the end is the finish line like I’m thinking.
He’s doing so good, until a crack of monstrous lightening disorients him. “He’s going to fall!” I shout, unable to peel my eyes from the TV and digging my fingers into Kate’s arm.
He lost control for a millisecond, but as he crosses the finish line he slows as they announce him as winner. I look to Kate, who is as frazzled and stressed out as I am.
“We’re never watching a fucking livestream again.” I laugh in relief as all the guys make it through.
* * *
Foster walks through the door,soaking wet. “Hey, baby.”
I rush up to him, throwing my arms around his neck. “I hated every minute of that.”
“No more livestreams, then. Okay?” He pats my head.
“It was scary,” Kate agrees, hugging Ryder.
I look around. “Callum?”
“He’s out with some girls,” Foster tells me with a laugh. I wonder briefly if he wishes he was still living the single life. That after a race he was free to do whatever he wanted. But as he uses his tattooed knuckles to brush a rogue hair away just so he can see the shape of my face and trace it with his midnight eyes, I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is right where he wants to be.