Page 65 of Still The One

‘Google knows everything, remember?’

‘That robot showed you more gorgeous track girls than you?’

‘Uh, yeah!’

I shake my head in disbelief. ‘Well, I’m here to tell you, you’re wrong. You are my top track girl.’

‘After knowing me for what, fifteen minutes, you’re awarding me first place?’

‘That’s it!’ I say, realizing what I want to give this girl that isn’t a poster above her bed. ‘I have something for you.’

‘I can imagine you do after that compliment…’ she laughs.

‘Notthat –did you miss the part where Google said I’m also a gentleman?’

‘I must have.’

‘Well no, it’s something cool, something I’ve never given out to any woman.’

She lifts a single eyebrow. ‘I dunno,’ she hesitates. ‘What if I don’t want it?’

‘I think you’re going to want this. Come on, Jellybean. Take a chance on me, would ya?’

She stands strong and confident, her hands resting firmly on her hips. Her eyes, however, are fixed on me with a playful glint.

‘Why Jellybean?’ she asks.

I nod. ‘You’re bright, beautiful, and small – it fits. Plus, jellybeans are my favorite candy.’

‘Shouldn’t we know each other better before handing out cutesy nicknames?’

I shrug my shoulders, the glint in her eye sparkling in a way I’ve never witnessed. ‘I’m calling it now – you and me, there’s something – I feel it.’

The roll of her eyes amuses me. I extend my hand, but she stares at it like I’ve lost my mind.

‘I’ve heard the rumors, Casanova. You’re the most desirable rider. Two women have proposed to you, with rings, track-side. I’ve seen the photos. Girls fall for your adorable dimples and flirtatious ways. I don’t have time for falling – I’ve got to graduate soon.’

‘Congratulations. But I feel like you might need the “not everything on the internet is true” reminder.’

‘Are you saying photos lie?’

‘No,’ I confirm. ‘Some of it’s true.’

She cocks her head, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Exactly where do you want to take me, Guy Foster? And why?’

I start walking toward our mechanic’s tent and to my surprise, she follows behind.

I grab my helmet and a Sharpie from my stuff. ‘What’s your name?’

Uncertainty is all over her face.

‘It’s only fair, considering you know everything about me, including my name,’ I remind her.

She laughs. ‘Fine, since Jellybean doesn’t do it for me, you can know it. My name is Eve.’

‘Eve,’ I repeat, liking the way it feels as I say it. I scribble some words then my signature on the side of my helmet and place it in her hands.

She looks down at it suspiciously. ‘Eve, #1 sexiest track girl alive, heart symbol, #15 Foster.’ She reads the words I’ve written, her gaze darting from the helmet to me. Her laughter is like a symphony, filling the air with joy. Her voice is soft and melodic, like a lullaby that could soothe any troubled soul.

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