Another shift. Not sure what it is, but everything is once again . . . different. He’s holding me in his arms like I’m his. I know I should protest, pull away, but the feeling is like none other, so I’m going to roll with it. Give myself today to bask in the illusion that this is real. That he doesn’t want anyone but me.
It’s wrong on so many levels. I’ve never been one who can detach my feelings, but I will deal with the consequences. In this moment, I feel . . . cherished.
As we move up in the line, his hands never leave me. He’s either holding my hand, my hips, or his arm is slung over my shoulder.
And the kisses . . . he’s taking sweet Cole to a whole new level with the attention he’s raining down on me today.
A girl could get used to this.
“You ready, sweets?” he asks, lips next to my ear.
Peering up at him, he’s wearing a smile that seems to light up his face more often than not these past few weeks. “The question is, are you ready to get beat by a girl?” I fire back.
He throws his head back and laughs before releasing his hold on me to pull a hair tie from his wrist. I watch as he gathers his long locks and wraps it all up in a messy bun. Let me be clear, Cole Hampton can rock a man-bun. It’s not really been my thing up to this point. I’ve seen pictures all over my social media, and there are very few who capture my attention. Cole, though, he’s got it. He rocks it, and I can guarantee there are panties dropping everywhere when he does.
Hair contained, his hands rest on my hips as he pulls me in to him. Leaning down, he replies, “Bring it, baby.” His brown eyes are sparkling.
Lethal.
He turns me in his arms so I’m facing the track, and I see that it’s finally our turn to race. I sprint toward the front cart, knowing I’ll need every advantage I can get. It’s been years since I’ve been on one of these things. I don’t know where Cole is; I’m too focused on strapping myself in and getting comfortable in my seat. After the attendant checks my seat belt, I place my hands on the steering wheel, excitement coursing through me. I feel like a kid again.
Wheel gripped tight, my eyes stay glued to the light, one foot on the brake, the other poised over the throttle. I’m a woman on a mission.
Finally, the caution light pop’s up and it’s time to move. I race off the line and the attendant yells to “Slow down.” I know he’s yelling at me. I’m not supposed to dart out of the gate, but I’m excited and I really, really want to beat Cole. Bragging rights are a beautiful thing, especially when it’s against a man’s man like Cole. I can see him brooding over the loss already. The thought only fuels my excitement.
I drive as fast as I can without getting the stink eye and shaking fist from the attendant. I want to turn around and look for Cole, but I refuse to break my concentration.
As I come around the last corner, I see the green light and a teenage girl waving a plastic flag. Green means go.
Game on!
I punch the gas and hold on tight. The wind is whipping through my hair and laughter bubbles out of me. I take the next curve without lifting from the throttle and slide through the corner like I’m Danica Patrick. I can feel my face splitting with the grin I’m wearing. I’m having a blast, and it’s for me. Not to beat Cole, although that would be a bonus; right now, I’m just enjoying the moment.
Our group of racers must be good because we don’t have one caution. All fifteen laps, I keep the throttle matted to the floor and fly around corners, laughing and grinning like a fool. When the caution light comes on, I slow my kart and drive back into the lineup. I wait until we’re given the all clear to unbuckle my seat belt and climb out. My feet barely hit the pavement before I feel his strong arms lift me up.
“Hell yeah! You killed it out there!” He squeezes me tight before placing me back on my feet.
“You got beat by a girl,” I tease him.
I don’t get the response I expected. “Sweets, I’m six-foot-four and weigh 180 pounds. What are you, five-six and a buck ten? Your cart was lighter than mine,” he tries to rationalize my win. “Besides, I’m good with you beating me.”
That’s the part I didn’t expect. “Oh, yeah? And why is that, Mr. Hampton?”
His hand on the small of my back, he leads us away from the karts and through the exit gate, away from the mass of people. He stops next to a pillar, turning so he’s leaning against it. His hands wrap around my waist and he pulls me close.
I’m watching him, waiting for an answer. He tucks my crazy, windblown hair behind my ear, his eyes locked on mine. “You want to know why?” His voice is husky.
A nod is the only response I’m capable of.
He brings me closer, a feat I would have thought impossible, our bodies touching everywhere.
Soft vs. hard.
“I’m good with it because I get to take the winner home with me.” He smirks.
I slap my hands against his chest as we both lose ourselves to the laughter of his statement.
“I might be going home with you, as you say, but you won’t be reaping the rewards.”
His smile is still there, but his eyes show a different emotion altogether. One I can’t quite decipher. “The reward is being with you.”
My mouth drops open.
He kisses me on the forehead and releases me. “Now, which one do you want to ride next?”
Just like that. No big deal that I’m swooning in the middle of a damn go-kart track thing—whatever this place is. No big deal that he just made my heart skip a beat, that my plan to steel my emotions just flew out the damn window. No big deal that he’s chipping away at that wall I built, refusing myself intimacy with anyone who didn’t want more. No big deal that those six words just got him what he’s been after for months. It’s in this moment that I realize it’s always been inevitable. I’m going to let Cole Hampton give me what he assures will be the best night of my life. Then, I’m going to have to pick my heart up off the ground and act as though it’s no big deal.
How does one come back from that?
We spend the next three hours racing from track to track, acting like teenagers.
“I’m done,” I tell him. We just finished what feels like ride number fifty, and I’m exhausted and hungry.
“Hungry?” he asks.
It’s like he can read my mind. “Yes.”
“Starving,” he replies with a boyish grin. Holding his hand out for me, I don’t fight it, lacing my fingers through his. He leads us back to the sidewalk. “What sounds good?”
“Anything. I’m not a picky eater.”
He nods and we walk about a block before he stops and points to a pizza place. I smile, letting him know it sounds good to me. We spend the next hour eating and talking about random things that mean nothing but in this moment feel like everything.
“I didn’t think you were ever coming back,” Logan says as soon as we walk onto the bus. Looking around, I see the four of them sitting around the table playing cards.
“Didn’t know we needed to be.”
“Well, we were getting worried. You’ve been gone a long time.”
Kacen laughs. “Baby, we told you she was fine. She was with Cole.”
Cole, who is standing behind me, gently runs his fingers up my spine. It’s like he’s trying to tell me that he agrees with Kacen.
“You should have just texted me.”
“I did.” She sighs. “You didn’t answer your damn phone.”
I reach around to retrieve my phone from my back pocket, but Cole beats me to it. He slides it out and gently lays it in my palm, his fingers trailing over mine. I try not to shudder at the contact. I bring my arm back around and tap the button and, sure enough, I have four missed calls from Logan. “Sorry, I didn’t hear it. Or feel it. We were riding go-karts, so my ass was vibrating the entire time. Didn’t know it was my phone,” I explain.
“We called you too, man,” Kacen says to Cole.
“Turned it off,” his gruff voice pipes up from behind me.
“Why would you do that?” Logan questions him. The guys just look at him, all wearing smirks.
“Day off” is his half-ass reply.
“Well, now that everyone’s here, can we eat? I’m starving,” Gavin pleads.
“We just ate,” Cole says.
“Well, that leaves us. You all ready to head out?” Tristan asks.
“You sure you don’t want to come with?” Logan asks me.
“I’m worn out. We walked all over the city and road go-karts for hours. I’m ready to just relax. Besides, we roll out early in the morning, right?”
“Yeah,” Kacen answers. “It’s about a six-hour drive, so we’ll probably head out around five or so. I doubt any of us will even be up.”
“That’s still hard to get used to.”
“I agree. You wake up, look out the window and see highway. It’s different for sure,” Logan agrees. “Cole?”
He again runs his hands up my spine. They can’t see what he’s doing, and I have to fight against reacting. He’s been touchy-feely all day, as have I, but it was just us. With them. . . .
“I’m beat. This one kicked my ass today.”
I turn to look at him, a grin tipping my lips. A chorus of “You were beat by a chick,” “Way to go, Stacy,” “Dude,” and something about being whipped are all thrown out at once.
“She’s good. Didn’t even lift in the corners.”
“Damn, girl!” Tristan stands, heads toward me, and Cole throws his arm over my shoulders. For some reason, this causes Tristan to grin like a fool.
“She’s a tiny thing,” he says softly, his eyes holding mine.
“Riiight,” Gavin says, standing. “Let’s go before I die of starvation.”
With a quick wave, they’re out the door and it’s just the two of us yet again.