Racer
I slide into the seat and strap down, glancing around the car. “You’re back too, Kelsey.” I smirk and rap the dashboard. “Hell so am I. I hope you’re ready.”
I fire up the engine and pull out of pits, ready for qualifying.
Her taste is still in my mouth.
The taste of her soft tears, and her loving eyes.
My veins are chock-full of fucking meds, and I should feel slower.
I don’t.
I feel more powerful than I ever have.
Because I let her see me—and she responded like I always prayed she would.
She fucking gets me.
And I’ve fucking got her.
“Okay girl,” I say once I’m in the clear for qualifying. “Let’s show the world who we are.”
