Page 62 of Boost

I followed Beckett down the steep stairs and arrived in the pits as Arlo climbed from the car. Colton was by his side to steady his stagger, and then the helmet came off to reveal Arlo’s sweat-reddened face and wild hair. While visibly fucked, his eyes burned with the echoes of the Devil himself.

“Did you fuckingseethat?” he crowed to me.

“Not that you’ve got a big-ass head or anything.” I slapped him on the shoulder as the crew worked around us.

“Got a way to go yet, Linetti, but that was a fucking good nudge. How are the arms?” Colton asked as we moved off to the side.

Arlo unzipped his coveralls and plucked at his sweaty shirt beneath. “Like Jello. And this is rank.”

Colton chuckled. “It’s always that gross. You’ll get used to it. Go shower, then we’ll debrief.”

With Arlo on his way to the bathrooms, I turned back to Colton and raised a brow. “So?”

A pleased grin pulled at his mouth wide. “I’ve a good feeling about him, Raffie. If he’s willing to put in the hard yards, he’s got what it takes to go big.”

Pride swelled in my chest even though I had no right to it. Hell, three months ago I would have laughed at the idea of helping the kid hit the big time; he’d been nothing but a self-righteous pain in my ass. Now that I knew Arlo better, he was as loyal as they came, and hell-bent on proving himself.

The hustle around us closed in as the pit crew pushed the car into the garage, and it indicated my time to leave.

“I’ve gotta bounce, Colt, but keep me updated, yeah?”

He slapped his hand in mine. “Fuckin’ A. All going well, Greer will be making a press announcement in a couple of week’s time.”

Immediately my eyes narrowed. “Do I have to be there?” Becausefuck that.

“Nah, Raffie, you’re good. Just me and Arlo; they’ll want the full scoop with sponsors and shit.”

“Thank fuck for that,” I murmured with a smirk. “I’ll catch ya ‘round, brother.”

He waved me off and promptly got swept up in the activity around him.

Boosting out of the parking lot with the music blaring set me free, just like every other time I got behind the wheel. If I was riding, I was living, and it took horsepower under my foot and wind through the open window to remind me of that. The success at the track today got me pumped, and couldn’t wait a second longer to ring Boss Lady. It was, after all, in the best interests ofbusiness.

“Landon-Michaels PR, Greer speaking.”

Shit, thinking about her and hearing her sweet voice were two different things entirely, and it momentarily kicked me for six.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Boss Lady.”

“Raf? Hi!”

“Hey,” I replied casually.

“Uh, can I help with something?”

My jeans started to tighten as indecent thoughts gathered in my head. “Wanna meet up tonight?”

It was official—my balls had retreated to form ovaries.

I swear I heard a giggle come through the phone. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lots of things, mamacita,” I drawled, as I concentrated on merging with the flow of traffic. “I’m heading into the city, so I thought I could swing by the office and do a little somethin’ with ya.”

“A little somethin’?” she teased, easily playing me like a stick-shift, and all I could do was sit back and be shoved to and fro.

I let out a rolling laugh. “Yeah, baby girl, a little somethin’.” And hopefully, that would include getting a little down and a lot dirty.

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