Page 132 of Borrowing My Bestie's Brothers

“Brock,” Dave said, “let’s get your driver to really kick this car in the guts.”

I smiled behind the helmet as he and Steve started to talk big, pushing and shoving at each other to try and be the bigger man.

Well, this time the bigger man was going to be a woman. I got into the car and made clear I was ready to go, forcing them to clamber into the back.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Brock muttered to me, as if sensing my shift in mood.

I tilted my head his way so he could see I heard him, but he wouldn’t catch my grin. Stupid? I would never.

The minute the marshal waved his flag I was off, feeling the car’s engine lurch as I rapidly shifted through gears. We went speeding up the track. Steve and Dave made excited noises from the back, but if I was going to do this, I couldn’t focus on them. It’d take everything I had, split second reflexes to keep us on the road and not total my beautiful car.

I dared a quick glance sideways, catching sight of Brock’s white knuckles as he gripped his handle, but he didn’t waver for a second. He believed in me completely, enough to work on this beast and then gift it to me. I wanted to treasure the car, keep it in a climate-controlled garage and never let anyone touch it, but that’s not what this was about. Fear had kept me from seeing what the guys had on offer. Fear stopped me from taking the next step when they made clear they were interested in pursuing something, so fear couldn’t stop me now.

The guys slammed from side to side, wrenched as far as the harnesses would allow as we raced around the track, their smiles quickly fading. Real fear shone in their eyes and right now I’d force them to face theirs. They wanted me to give it all I had. Well, I was about to do just that.

Brock seemed to sense what I was about to do as we approached the pits. His head whipped around, a shout building in his chest, but it was too late. I forced the car into a spin, that weightless feeling going from one of jubilation to frankly terrifying, but I knew my way through this. I’d performed this kind of spin plenty of times before and came out the other side. I trusted myself, the car, and the forces of gravity to spin us around and around, then come to a stop with a flashy flourish.

“Holy fucking shit!” Steve panted. “What the fucking fuck!” His eyes shot to the front of the car. “Who the hell did you put behind that wheel?”

That was my cue to do a big reveal. As a marshal ran over, ready to scold me, I freed the clasp on the helmet, then pulled it free, glorying in the sight of my brothers’ eyes going wide.

Chapter 59

Jamie

“Jamie…?”

Dad and Frankie rushed over to see if we were OK, but when they caught sight of me, they stopped in the middle of the track and stared.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Dad recovered first, storming over to the passenger seat window. “Letting my daughter drive like a maniac?”

“Let?” Brock shot me a lazy smile and then grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I don’t let Jamie do anything. I just get the fuck out of her way because she knows exactly what she needs to do. Your daughter is competent, skilled, smart, and capable.”

“And fucking insane behind the wheel…” Dave groaned, getting out of the car and vomiting on the ground. Loud jeers from the crowd made clear that everyone saw that.

“Guess I’m not just a girl pretending to play with cars all day,” I said, smirking at my family.

“No, you’re fucking reckless, dangerous,” Steve growled.

“You could’ve died!” Dad’s face was going bright red, his chest heaving now. “You could’ve ploughed this car right into a wall and then where would you be?”

“Wouldn’t happen.”

My tone was clipped, my chest tight as I faced him down.

“How do you know that?” Dave wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve got no way of knowing that. One slip and?—”

“But she didn’t.” Frankie stepped forward with a frown. “She didn’t. A minute ago everyone was enjoying themselves, and now you’re all shouting at Jamie? She’s a killer driver. No one who can pull that shit off could be called anything but that.”

“Just showing off again.” When I looked at Steve then, I saw something familiar. Scorn, dislike, maybe something even more intense than that. How the hell were we siblings? He couldn’t say he loved me when it was obvious he didn’t even like me.

“If I was a man, would that be showing off?” I asked him before turning to Dad. “Would you be worried about the boys if they could drive like that?”

“Well now?—”

“A moment ago you thought I was some guy, someone’s son, and you didn’t give a shit. You were having a great time, and then suddenly it wasn’t so fun because you realised it was me doing the driving.”

“I still think it was fun.” Frankie held up a fist and I bumped it.

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