Page 105 of Revved up & Ready

“Did you really?” she asks.

“I did. I would’ve asked you to date me for real on that first night if I’d thought you’d go for it,” I say, leaning back on the couch.

“No, you wouldn’t have.” She waves me off.

“I would’ve,” I insist. “I always wanted you, from the first moment I saw you—and even more once I knew you.”

“You have no idea how true that is,” she says, passing me the hard-candy pipe.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, taking a hit.

She smiles at me, looking wistful, then devious, then delighted. “Hold on,” she says, running down the hall toward her room.

It turns out I was right when I made up the story about us fighting over whose bed to sleep in. Mine’s bigger, but her bedding’s nicer. We switch back and forth almost every night, and we still haven’t moved all of our things into one room together.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Shane: I still can’t believe we get to be on a team together next year.

Me: Me neither. It’s going to be amazing.

The woman fromCheckers Mediaturned out to be legit. The company wants to fund a superbike team, and they liked the way Shane and I work together. I get to scale way back on my social presence, and I’ll be paid to mentor Shane. It’s worked out perfectly—

Sadie walks down the hall, and my thoughts melt away. She’s wearing tiny cut-off denim shorts, rolled over at the waist, and a pink shirt cut to show the underside of her boobs that saysShow Me Your Willie. She even twisted her hair into space buns.

Leaning on the doorframe between the living room and hallway, she asks, “Seem familiar?”

“You’re dressed up like my tattoo,” I answer, probably drooling.

“Not quite,” she laughs, picking up thehard-candypipe from the table and taking a hit. “In the original costume, my shorts weren’t folded over, and my shirt wasn’t cut off. But thisisthe original shirt.”

“What do you mean, the original?” I ask.

“It was ten years ago, so I can’t totally hold it against you. But I have to say, I’m a little offended you haven’t put it together yet.” She sits on the couch next to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The original costume. Is she saying—Could she be?

She passes me her phone, and on it is a picture of her with blonde space buns. She’s wearing—I look up and down from her shirt to the photo and back.It’s the same shirt.This isthepicture.

“You’rethe girl I used for reference for my tattoo?” I chuckle, pulling her in for a kiss.

She giggles against my lips. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am.”

“Fuck me. That’s incredible.” I lean back, unbuttoning my pants. “You’re going to love this.”

“Damn, I knew you’d like the outfit,” she laughs. “But I didn’t think it would be this effective.”

“Itisthat effective,” I say. “But that’s not why I’m taking my pants off.” I pull down my boxer briefs too, showing her the pinup girl who now has pink space buns.

“Cam,” she gasps, trailing her fingertips along the tattoo. “When did you—why did you?”

“I had her do it while you were on the phone with your mom. I’ve been waiting for you to notice. I’m surprised younever did, but I guess I do a good job of keeping you distracted by other things when I have my pants off.”

“But why?” she asks, looking back up.

I pull my underwear and pants back up. “I wanted her to be you.”

Her lips turn into a touched pout. “But I won’t always have pink hair.”

---