Page 89 of Friends Don't Kiss

“You excited?” a female voice says next to me. She sits up on the truck next to me, her inquisitive glare briefly on me, then fleets back to the frozen lake.

“Yeah,” I answer, looking at her pretty profile. She’s tall, with jet-black hair that falls in lush waves from her knitted hat onto her shoulders. She doesn’t wear makeup—she’s beautiful enough not to need any. A tiny stud shines on her upturned nose.

“It’s my first time here,” I inform her, hoping that’ll start some small talk.

She glances at me. “Yeah, I noticed,” she says, then directs her attention back on the track. “You’ll be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

I don’t have time to process what she said. My slow understanding is sped up by the announcer calling Colton’s name for the fourth race, and my blood freezes as I watch the car we drove in roar onto the icy expanse under the cheering and clapping of the crowd.

The girl next to me stands on the truck bed and shrieks as the cars jolt into a slippery start.

I hold onto the truck, my knees too weak to carry me. I know Colton races. I just didn’t… fully understand it. And also, I was unprepared forthis. For seeing him stuck in a metal box, hurtling across slippery ice and snow. The screeching sounds of fighting cars. The smell of burned plastic and fuel and oil. The animal excitement all around me.

My stomach bottoms as the cars reach the first curb, Colton’s seeming to be glued to the rear left of the one in front of him, the two leading the pack. They’re coming our way now, and it’s hard to tell why Colton isn’t passing. It seems he could. I want to scream for him to do it, but no sound comes out of my mouth. Just a tiny little wail.

Three cars behind, someone skids and leaves the track, and the cars behind it avoid it by some miracle. One of them tailends, the others swerving again, narrowly avoiding a collision. By the time they’re back in the race, they’re way behind Colton and the other car. The announcer calls the final round, and I clap for Colton to get ahead, convincing myself that second isn’t too bad either.

It’s better than in a pile of soft snow, like the other dude back there looking dejectedly at his car. Better than the rest of the pack fighting mercilessly for third, trying to pass each other.

The girl next to me is yelling at the top of her lungs. “Don’t let him! Don’t let him!”

I’m vaguely confused and maybe even a little threatened by how involved she seems to be in Colton’s victory.

“No! No! No!” she yells, and I instantly tense up as Colton detaches himself from the car in front, seeming to lose a foot in the last stretch before the arrival.

The commentator is going nuts on the loudspeaker, but I can’t understand a word he’s saying. It only adds to my tension. I’m standing by now, on my tiptoes, so I can see better.

Colton springs ahead of the car in front of him, and I swear I can distinguish the roar of his engine from the other racers. “Go!” I scream, jumping up and down.

He crosses the line in a roar of applause from the group around the truck, the commentator’s voice an uninterrupted string of yelling where Colton’s name pops in at intervals. As the other cars cross the line, my gaze follows Colton’s as it disappears behind a thicket of woods, closely followed by the car that came in second, then both reappear next to us. The girl next to me hops off the truck and saunters in their direction.

I feel off balance for a moment. He said to wait here, right? I don’t feel likewaiting.

And then I see Colton march toward me, totally rocking his black leather jacket, eyes on me, the girl behind him clutching another guy. He joins me at the truck, tucking himself between my legs. “You liked it?” he asks.

Did I like it? My cheeks are hurting from smiling, my heart is swelling from pride. But mostly, I’m so relieved he made it out alive.

I jump off and wrap my legs around his waist. Closing my eyes, I pull his head to me, my mouth finding his. Surprised at first, he lets me kiss him, then takes over when my tongue meets his. Grunting, he places one hand under my butt to pull me closer then takes his tongue on an erotic exploration of my mouth. His tongue is demanding, his lips are claiming, a thirst I didn’t know we both shared being exchanged.

He gives our lips some breathing room. “That’s not how I saw our first real kiss going,” he rumbles against my ear, his stubble grating my skin. He strokes my butt, making me wiggle tighter against him.

“Get a room,” the guy next to us jokes.

“You win the race, I’ll kiss you that way,” his girlfriend with the awesome hair says.

Colton smiles slightly. “That why you’re so horny, sweets? Cos I won?” He peppers my neck with a trail of kisses. I’d moan, but we’re in public.

Instead, I breathe heavily in his ear. “Cos you’re alive, Colt. Just please stay alive for me.” I knead his strong shoulders, his warm nape, everything under me vibrating with strength, yet so fragile. “I don’t think I could survive if anything happened to you.”

Colton’s breath catches. Pulling us slightly apart, his gaze bores into my eyes, something indescribable passing between us. He leans over to take my mouth, long and slow and tender this time, his hand that’s not under my butt messing with my hair. Then, with me still in his arms, he walks us to his car while the next race fills the air with its roar and fumes.

Once he sets me down, he faces me and says, “What you said up there… you really meant that.” Before I can answer, he adds, “Just want you to know, I’d never put myself in harm’s way. ’Specially with you watching.”

“I know… that’s not—”

He cups my jaw in his hand. “How long you been feeling that way about me, sweets?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, the answer to that question would have been some sarcastic refutation. But with my walls finally down, the answer is simple.

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