Such a handful.

You wanted an Epilogue, right? You wanted to see them in college or ten years down the road with their kids? I know, I know, but you’ll just have to wait. Jared and Tate will be featured in my upcoming stories, so stay tuned!

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Please turn the page for a sneak peek at Madoc’s story, Rival, coming in late summer 2014.

“Fuck,” I breathed out. “Could she move any slower?!” I asked Jared as I sat in the backseat of Tate’s R8 with my hands locked on top of my head.

She twisted around from the driver’s seat, her eyes sharp like she wanted to drive a knife right through my skull. “I’m heading around a sharp turn at nearly fifty miles an hour on an unstable dirt road!” she yelled at me. “This isn’t even a real race. I. Told. You. That. Before!” Every muscle in her face was as stiff as steel as she chewed me out.

I dropped my head back and let out a sigh. Jared sat in front of me with his elbow in the door and his head in his hand.

It was Saturday afternoon, the day of Tate’s first real race, and we’d been on Route Five for the last three hours. Every time the little twerp down-shifted too soon or didn’t hit the gas fast enough, Jared kept quiet, but not me.

He turned his head but not enough to meet my eyes. “Get out,” he ordered.

“What?” I blurted, my eyes widening. “But…but…” I stuttered, catching sight of Tate’s triumphant smile in the rearview mirror.

“But nothing,” Jared barked. “Go get your car. She can race you.”

The zing of adrenaline heated up my arms at the prospect of some real excitement. Tate could definitely race a chick that had no idea what she was doing, but she still had a lot to learn and some balls to grow.

Enter Madoc. I wanted to smile, but I didn’t.

Instead, I just rolled my eyes. “Well, that’ll be boring.”

“Oh, you’re so funny,” she mocked, gripping the steering wheel. “You make a great twelve year old girl when you whine.”

I opened the back door. “Speaking of whining…want to make a bet on who’ll be crying by the end of the day?”

“You will,” she answered. “Not.”

She grabbed a package of travel tissues and threw them at me. “Here. Just in case.”

“Oh, I see you keep a ready stock.” I smiled. “Because you cry so much, right?” She jerked around. “Tais-toi! Je vous détes—”

“What?” I interrupted. “What was that? I’m hot, and you love me? Jared, did you know she had feelings—”

“Stop it!” he bellowed, shutting both of us up. “Goddammit, you two.” And he threw his hands up in the air and looked between us.

Tate and I were both silent for a moment, and then she snorted, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, too.

“Madoc?” Jared’s teeth were glued together. I could hear it. “Out.”

I grabbed my cell off the seat and did as I was told, only because I knew my friend had had enough.

I’d been trying to bait Tate all day, make jokes, and distract Jared. She was racing a new guy on the scene tonight, Michael Woodburn, and no one knew anything about him. You would think that most guys would have a problem racing a girl, but Zack said this guy took the race with no argument.

It was too convenient, and Jared was uneasy. We didn’t know Woodburn, his car, or his driving, but Tate insisted that she could handle it.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 738