Page 18 of Race to Me

I’ve never known her to get serious with anyone, and the smile on her face tells me she’s not fooling around. “I’m happy for you! Why would I be mad about that?”

“I don’t know,” Kate admits, shrugging. “I didn’t want you to think I was bringing you out here to be the third wheel—like, that’s not what’s happening. I may not even talk to him. I ju—”

I give her a ‘breathe in, breathe out’ motion with my hands. “Oh you’re very serious about this guy.” I laugh. “You’re rambling! I don’t care if he wants to hang with us all night. It’s whatever you want.” My eyes don’t stop looking for Foster, even when I try to ignore him being here.

From the distance, I spot a girl walk onto the dark street, holding her hand high in the air. “Oh! The race is about to start. Hurry!” Kate yells. She grabs my hand, and we rush to the edge of the dark street.

Bikes are lined in a row, with some still pulling up to the starting line. “Cash your bets with me!” A guy walks around, a stack of bills in his raised hand. He stops every so often to write names down and exchange money.

When he gets closer, he stops in front of us. “You girls want to place any bets?”

I shake my head; I’m already here at an illegal race, and I don’t want to add to the crimes. “I do!” Kate exclaims, waving a five in his face, grinning. My heart rate picks up. Maybe I should?

“Who on?” he asks, turning to his notebook.

She winks to me. “Ghost,”

“A popular one. He’s never lost.” Of course he hasn’t.

The crowd around us buzzes with music, talking, and cheering. Such a dark contrast to the game I was just at; like night and day. A crimson red motorcycle pulls up to the starting line, alongside another familiar matte black bike. Fire and Ice.

Foster.

Everything happens so quickly. The girl, who I now realize is Foster’s little green girlfriend, stands in the center of the street, wearing a short leather skirt and a green bandana for a top, to match her hair. The farther she raises her arms up, the louder the engines growl.

Greeny brings her hand straight in front of her, and I’m assuming it’s to let them know it’s about to be go-time. Before she brings it all the way down, I look back to Foster—and find that he’s already glaring me down.

Icy black eyes peek through his open visor where his tattooed hand sits, about to pull it down, but he never does. He looks pissed yet incredibly sexy.

She lowers her hand, and everyone takes off—except for Foster. Cutting off a few people with precise movements, his bike screeches to a halt directly in front of me. “What in the fuck, Skyler?”

Eight

“Just came out to enjoy the festivities.” I smile when he throws his head back in annoyance. Kate watches on with interested eyes.

The other racers are long gone, and Foster doesn’t seem very happy about it when he lets down the foot peg of his bike with more force than necessary and rips off his helmet. “I told you not to come here.”

I look around, at everyone else that’s here, narrowing my eyes. “It’s a free country.” I repeat.

Kate whistles, biting her lip. “Feisty,”

Foster turns his rage to her, but his tone is calm. “Hey, Kate. Do you mind taking her home? I’m missing my race.”

I laugh at the thought, retorting, “You’d never catch up, they’re all gone!” I point to the desolate street and try to ignore his cocky grin.

One hand is slack over the handlebars while the other rests on his helmet that’s sitting on his leg. “You’ve never seen me race.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “You’re impossible. I’m not going anywhere.” I turn away from him, trying to pay attention to anything other than Foster Jennings.

His boots hit the ground as he steps off, towering over me. “And I promised you, that if you came here, I would throw you over my bike and make you leave.”

I scoff, giving him a dismissive wave of my hand. “You wouldn’t dare.” He looks to my outfit, his dark eyes gliding from head to toe.

“I’ll go slow since you decided to wear nothing tonight.” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself.

Kate looks between me, Foster, and her phone. I sigh, saying, “Kate, I can handle him. Go find Ryder.”

Foster grins. “Ryder Parsons?”

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