THE ORANGE GLOW in the distance paints the desert in shades of twilight while the rhythmic bass throbs against my chest, matching the beat of my heart.
My anticipation grows the closer the show gets.
The frenzy of roaring engines, neon lights, music, and people hits me like a wave as I pull into the makeshift parking lot. Despite the crowd, there’s a hollowness inside me, an inexplicable void I’ve never felt here before.
Addie only came with me once, but I feel her absence ten times stronger here than at home. It’s hard to explain, but this part of my life is mine alone. She’s the only person I’ve ever willingly shared this with, and it feels so fucking wrong that she’s not here.
I shake off the memories of her wide eyes, the glint of excitement shining through her nerves as she looked around when we pulled up here two weeks ago.
Stepping out of my car, the desert heat smothers my skin just as a mess of curls and gleaming teeth strides closer. Curly’s smirk is usually contagious, but I’ve not mustered a smile in a week, and I doubt I’ll manage one tonight.
“Ready to show the kids how it’s done?” He claps my shoulder, shaking me from side to side. “We’ve got a group from LA here tonight. First-timers.”
“Good. I need a race.” The words come out more desperate than intended.
Racing isn’t just my hobby. Not just a momentary thrill. It’s a way to drain the maelstrom swirling inside me and feel alive.
Hopefully, tonight, it’ll also be a way to forget.
Curly eyes me for a moment, his smile fading. He’s clever and has known me for years, so he can tell I’m in a foul mood. I didn’t realize it was so obvious why, but the way he glances around, searching for Addie, tells me he’s figured it out.
“Got just the guy,” he finally says with a touch of concern. “Kid from down south. Been bragging about his ride all night. How about a ten-grand race to get you started?”
“The sooner, the better.” I flex my fingers, already imagining the leather of the steering wheel under my palms.
Curly disappears into the crowd without another word, off to set up the race. The chaos around me blurs as I lean against the hood, willing my pulse to slow.
I let my gaze wander, drinking in the sight of people laughing, the bright headlights piercing the desert night, the occasional cheer as a car revs its engine.
All these things brought me a sense of belonging not long ago, but tonight they only amplify the emptiness inside.
Curly returns with a kid who barely looks old enough to drive. “Colt, meet Brian. Brian, meet Colt,” he introduces us, his voice easily carrying over the rumbling bass.
“Heard a lot about you, Colt,” Brian drawls, sizing me up, a cocky smirk playing on his thin lips. “Let’s see if the talk lives up to reality.”
Addie would be rolling her eyes big time right now. He sounds like he watched Need for Speed one too many times.
“Ready when you are.”
“Alright, then,” Curly booms, summoning everyone’s attention. “Let’s give you all a damn good race!”
The crowd roars, the music surges, and I feel that familiar spark of anticipation. Adrenaline floods my system like a soothing balm for my frayed nerves.
This is exactly what I need. Thirty seconds on the track. A break from my own fucking head.
I slide into the driver’s seat, the faint scent of peaches and sugar like a punch to the gut. There’s still a trace of her here. It gnawed on me the whole way from Newport, but the open windows dealt with the worst of it.
The leather seat creaks under my weight, every little detail triggering a memory. How she braced against the seat, the awe in her eyes, how my heart rocketed when I ran around the hood, worried she’d gone into shock.
God, I miss her.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles whitening under pressure. There’s a lump in my throat that won’t go away. I turn the key, and the Challenger roars to life, vibrating beneath me, temporarily silencing my thoughts.
A crowd forms on either side of the track, a sea of indistinguishable faces bathed in the artificial glow of neon lights. Cheers and whistles fade into the background, drowned out by the cacophony in my mind. It breaks above the roar again and all I hear is Addie’s voice screaming in this car with fear and elation, then her laughter when we raced again and again.
I want her. I want her like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone else before. But she’s a bird longing to spread her wings and fly. She’s destined for places I can’t follow, and I… I’m tethered to the earth, stomping on hard ground, searching for the future I always imagined.
I shove those thoughts aside and push Addie out of my head. It won’t last long. She’ll be back within minutes, but at least for now, I can focus on the smell of gasoline, the feel of leather under my hands, the roaring crowd and loud engines.
The starting line looms ahead, a strip of white paint barely visible in the dim lights.
It feels more like a precipice.
I draw a deep breath, willing the tight knot in my chest to ease, desperate to focus on the race, the speed, the thrill, but my palms are sweaty on the wheel.
I’ve tamed the storm of excitement brewing under my skin at countless starting lines, but tonight?
Things are different.
The usual calm gives way to torrential unease. My stomach churns so hard it’s fucking painful. It refuses to settle, however many deep breaths I take. My lungs barely expand thanks to the crushing sensation around my chest and the cold tendrils of fear coiling around my heart.
For the first time ever since I started racing, I’m afraid.
I’ve never known fear on the racetrack. Fear is for the weak. The unsure. The unprepared. Seems I’m weak and unprepared tonight because staring down the long stretch of tarmac before me, my heart’s trying to dance its way out.
In all my years of racing, it’s always been about the thrill, speed, and exhilaration of control on the edge of chaos, toeing the line of recklessness. I never had anything to lose, only the race to win.
Until Addie.
The taste of her lips, the warmth of her touch, and the sparkle in her eyes have become my vulnerability.
I know we don’t dream the same dream. She has a different take on the world, but it doesn’t mean shit because… fuck.
I’m in love with her.
And suddenly, the stakes are sky high. She’s not mine. Might never be, but the thought of taking unnecessary risks and losing the sliver of a chance I have with her is chilling.
The kid in the car beside mine revs the engine, taunting. Normally, I’d rev right back. Show him he can’t count on me tucking my tail between my legs… not tonight.
My mind’s made in a split second. Beeping the horn, I shift my gaze to the other driver. His window rolls down as he cocks a questioning eyebrow.
I toss him a roll of cash: ten grand. The price for backing away from a race. “I’m out.”
His face idles somewhere between shock and disbelief. I don’t wait for his reaction. I slam the pedal to the floor, burning rubber out of there.
The crowd becomes a blur, their cheers fading into the night as I highball down the road. A crazy laugh escapes my lips, a mix of relief, excitement, and fear. I’ve made my choice. It’s a long way back to Newport, but with each mile the knot in my chest loosens and the fear subsides.
Not every fairy tale ends with a big wedding and children’s laughter. Pining after the dream, I forgot the most important thing: happiness doesn’t always look like we’ve imagined.
Sometimes, less is more.
***
The neighborhood is shrouded in darkness. My headlights illuminate Addie’s empty driveway. No sign of her bright orange BMW. It disappeared from outside my house yesterday, so I know she’s back in Newport.
The garage by her house is closed, and despite there being no lights shining inside, I step out of the Challenger, a pit of dread forming in my gut. Cool air prickles my skin as I walk up to her front door. I already know she’s not here, but I knock anyway, my knuckles rapping out a beat against the hard oak.
Just in case she’s sleeping.
Just in case she’s in the garden.
Once, twice, three times… each knock echoes through the night, fading into nothing.
She’s not home.
And I have no idea where she might be. I don’t know her friends or usual spots. She said she’s not much of a party girl, only going out for drinks when her besties leave her no choice.
I pull a packet of cigarettes out of my jacket pocket and sit on the porch, lighting one with a Zippo. She’ll have to come home at some point, and I’m not moving until we talk.
At least that’s my three-minute resolution before I grow impatient. Sitting around doing fucking nothing drives me nuts, so I jump back behind the wheel, setting off toward town. The Challenger rumbles a low, comforting growl that seems out of place.
Ten minutes later, cruising down the main street at a crawl, my head swings left and right, searching, hoping to catch a flash of that bright orange BMW.
Newport’s bustling. It’s a summer vacation Friday night. High school and college kids are out, flooding the streets, loud and cheerful. Music spills out from open club doorways, and lights blink from all directions. I drive past the cocktail bars, the fancy lounges, all the best spots, peering through the windows, but there’s no sign of her amongst the crowds.
An hour ticks away, as relentless as my heartbeat in my ears. Each passing moment amplifies the dull ache in my chest. The city lights seem harsh, the music from the clubs grating. Even my Challenger feels more isolating.
I circle back to Addie’s house, but it’s still dark, silent, and empty. My hands feel heavy on the wheel as I turn back home to grab my cell. I left it on the coffee table when I stormed out, and even though I’d much rather do this in person, I’m out of ideas where Addie might be, so a phone call it is.
That’s if she even replaced her phone since it tumbled into that river in the Bahamas.
I won’t fucking stop until I see her. I don’t know what I’ll say, I don’t know how to put the turmoil inside my head into words, but they’ll come.
Every mile and every red light seems to last an eternity before I reach my driveway. And there it is. The orange BMW I’ve been looking for.
I wouldn’t have guessed she’d be here if I had a million chances, but she is. Sitting with her back to my front door, staring right at me as I throw the Challenger into a parking spot beside her car.
I’m out in a flash, relief surging when her beautiful brown eyes meet mine. A kaleidoscope of emotions paints her face as she scrambles to her feet, descending the few concrete steps.
She’s not in a hurry, every step measured. “Cody came by,” she says like she’s mentioning the weather, not giving anything away. “He dropped off a pen for Jasper.”
I bob my head, standing by the hood of my car, completely fucking paralyzed. She’s so… casual. Not at all what I expected when I saw her sitting outside my door.
A short clip played in my head: an epic, movie-worthy reunion. Her jumping into my arms, our lips connecting. A kiss to rival all fucking kisses among whispered I love yous.
“He didn’t leave any instructions,” she continues, stopping right before me, the scent of her body hooking me like a potent drug. “I was rather rude about him ditching his wife on Friday evening to bring me the pen, but then he said Blair’s in Milan with Cassidy.”
My eyebrows bunch in the middle at the sudden change of topic. “Yeah, she’s showing off her new clothing line, and Cass is her photographer.”
“They’re all living their dreams, aren’t they?” she muses, taking another step closer, our breaths mingling. “Mia’s writing songs, Thalia’s head chef, Vivienne’s climbing the career ladder…”
I have no idea what she’s getting at, but I nod along, confused beyond reason.
She steps even closer, so close she has to angle her head to look me in the eye. “Do you have any idea what a shock to the system it was when I realized they’re not trophies?”
And it hits me.
There is a reason Addie doesn’t want a husband. Why she doesn’t want a family. She doesn’t want to end up like her mother. A trophy wife: pretty, well mannered, well behaved, and caged. Forced to nurture her husband’s aspirations while squandering her own.
She pokes my chest with her long finger. “Do you have any idea how shocked I was when Cody said you were going to bring Jasper home for me? Why would you do that?”
I open my mouth, but she doesn’t let me speak, rising on her toes as she wraps her hands around my neck.
“I’ll tell you why. Because you want me to be happy and you’ll do everything you can to make that happen. Because for you, my dreams are important and you’ll make them come true even though they’re not yours. Am I wrong?”
I shake my head. “One hundred percent right.”
A small smile tugs her lips, growing wider and brighter until she’s beaming, eyes sparkling. She doesn’t say anything else. She’s on me before I can blink, hands on my face, body pressing into me, her warm, plump lips on mine.
I grab her waist, pulling her closer. I’m confused… so fucking confused, but never this calm. She gasps, a small sound I swallow as I take over. I delve deeper, lifting her into my arms, my hands full of her sweet ass. She grips the fabric of my tee and melts into me as if we’re two matching pieces of a puzzle.
Our lips move in sync. The kiss deepens, growing hungrier, greedier. The feel of her against me, her taste on my lips, her scent filling my lungs… I’m fucking drunk on her.
It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming.
My legs start moving, one after another, blindly, toward the house, but I stop dead when she inches back far enough to look me in the eyes.
“I love you, and I will marry you.”
I inhale a sharp breath and hold it, lost in her brown irises. “Say it again.”
“I’ll marry you.”
“Not that. I don’t need that. I don’t need you to say yes right now. I just had to know there’s a possibility. That one day—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” she cuts in, wiggling in my arms, pressing herself closer, fingers weaving through my hair. “I love you and—”
I close her lips, sealing that confession so she can’t take it back. Sliding my tongue in, I kiss her, taking everything she has to offer and pouring in everything I have.
“I love you more,” I whisper, taking her mouth again. “So fucking much I don’t know where’s up and where’s down, baby. I’ll make you happy. You’ll see.”
She stops me, bracing her hands against my chest. “You already do. That’s why I’ll marry you tonight if you ask, but no kids… not until after I graduate.”
“Anything you want.”
A big smile breaks across her face. She parts her lips to say something, but desire steals her voice, and we’re kissing again, pausing just long enough to get the door open.
A moment later, I drop her on the bed. My bed.
“You’re the first woman in this room,” I say, arching back to tug my t-shirt off. “First and last.”
I’ve never brought a girl here. I had plenty in my bedroom while I lived at Nico’s, but once I bought a house, my bedroom became sacred. I promised myself I’d never bring a woman here unless she was mine. Unless she’d stay.
“I’m not letting you leave.” I climb over her, one hand twisting her hair into a ponytail, the other holding her waist. “You’re moving in tomorrow.”
“As soon as we’re back from Vegas,” she says, knotting her fingers on my nape to pull me down. “But sex first. I missed you.” She tugs my neck, trying to get my lips on hers.
“Why Vegas?”
“So we can get married,” she deadpans. “Tonight.”
I smile down at her. “We’re not getting married tonight.”
“Why not?” She pouts, moving her hands to my face. “You want to, don’t you? Let’s do it.”
She’s crazy. My kind of crazy. A big part of me wants to say fuck it and drive to Vegas right now, but the part of me that’s waited so long for this wants to do it right.
“Of course I want to, but not tonight. Not until you’re wearing a big rock on your ring finger. And—”
“I guess it’s too late in the day for that rock, isn’t it?” she cuts in with a contemplative look on her pretty face. “No jewelry stores will be open at this hour.”
I fall silent, studying her features, those beautiful dark eyes staring me down. “Why do you want to rush?”
“I just want you to know you’ve got me. You don’t want to go to Vegas, so—”
“Definitely not in fucking Vegas, baby. My mother wouldn’t survive another secret wedding; Theo had one years ago.” I flip us over so she lays on top of me, and my hands roam her thighs and hips. “I want you in a beautiful white dress. Your dad deserves to walk you down the aisle.”
She beams, dipping her head to kiss my nose. “I never wanted to think about it before, but… maybe I do want a big wedding.”
“You’ll get everything you ask for, baby. Every single thing. Always.”
“Obviously not.” She wiggles her ring finger at me, chuckling as she dips her head to stop my lips with hers, small hands traveling under my t-shirt. “Enough talking.” She trails open-mouthed kisses down my neck. “I missed you.”
“I missed you more.”
