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Aflame

Page 50

   


While Sundays were sleepy in the neighborhoods—until afternoon, anyway—the center of town was always bustling. People shopped, lunched, took in a movie, or just enjoyed the square.
I sped ahead, while Tate weaved back and forth behind me, trying to get a look at what was ahead. I could also see the excited movements of the other three girls.
“Oh, shit!” Jax yelled, and I jerked my eyes back to the road.
I slammed on the brakes—seeing a company van backing out of a driveway and into the street—while Tate swerved around me, taking the oncoming lane to go around and zoom ahead of me.
“Fuck!” I growled, jerking the wheel and following behind her.
“Why didn’t you just go around?” Jax shouted, taking off his seat belt and moving closer to the front.
“Piss off,” I barked and then looked ahead at her significant gain. “God, she’s good.”
I heard Jax swallow. “Yeah, she’s got great reflexes. Better than you, apparently.”
Shifting into fifth, I picked up speed and then punched into sixth, starting to see the first stoplight ahead.
“Come on,” Madoc urged, and I pushed my back hard into the seat, squeezing the wheel.
Juliet and Pasha kept turning around, checking us out through the back window. Pedestrians on the sidewalk started taking notice, and I spotted them in my rearview mirror spinning around to watch the two speeding assholes—as they were probably calling us right now—barrel down their street. Some guys went wide-eyed, pointing as both our cars raced by, and I heard a cheer through the open windows.
The light ahead turned red, and Tate slammed on her brakes, the high-pitched screeching bringing everyone’s attention outside straight to us.
I punched the brakes with everything I had, skidding to a halt right next to her.
“Oh, shit!” someone outside shouted. “It’s Jared and Tate!”
But my eyes were on her.
She watched the stoplight, glancing anxiously at me and biting away the smile from her bottom lip. I could tell her leg was bouncing up and down, because her shoulders and head looked like they were vibrating.
“Jax,” I said, breathing hard. “You still in good with the cops?”
“Yeah,” he answered in a hesitant tone. “Why?”
“Because.” And I looked up at the traffic cam perched on top of the stoplight, and glancing left to right and seeing no immediate cars, slammed my back into the seat and gassed it, speeding through the red light.
“Motherfu—!” I heard Tate’s curse, but her voice trailed off as I sped away.
Madoc tipped his head back, busting up with laughter, while Jax snorted close to my ear.
People outside cheered, howling and laughing. I glanced in my rearview mirror to see Tate, inching through the stoplight, following my lead, and then taking off when she realized it was safe.
I shifted into fourth and then fifth—the hot summer sun was nothing compared to the lava raging under my skin.
God, I fucking loved her.
Even being on the track—which I loved—wasn’t as good as the high I felt when she was near me.
“Jared,” Jax warned. “Slow down.”
I looked ahead, a smile teasing my jaw.
“Jared,” he said again, his voice harder.
I ignored him, shifting my eyes from left to right, looking for danger as I approached the next stoplight.
“Jared!” Madoc shouted, and I punched into sixth, my heart racing and my breathing hitching painfully in my chest.
“Oh, shit!” Jax howled, and we all held our breaths as the light just turned to green, and I flew through the intersection without slowing down.
And then I let out a breath, safely getting to the other side.
“Oh, thank God,” Madoc gasped and then looked at me. “You’re such an asshole.”
I sucked in air. “What?” I acted innocent. “It was green.”
Tate gained on my ass, but then I saw her skid into a left turn behind me.
“What?” I said more to myself than to the guys, watching her in my rearview mirror.
“She’s cutting through the school,” Jax guessed, looking out the window behind him.
“Shit,” I hissed, remembering the gates were open for Sunday track practices. She could drive into the front parking lot, go around the side of the school, and out the back gate with almost no traffic or interruption.
“You didn’t say what path to take home,” Madoc pointed out.
Yeah, I know. Why didn’t I think of that?
I rounded the square, cutting into a side street and racing through the less busy area where smaller businesses were closed on Sundays.
I kept up on the gas, my nerves firing with the need to go. I didn’t care about winning.
Winners usually don’t.
I wanted this, right here, right now, with her. I needed to see her. It was frustrating not knowing where she was.
Rounding two more corners and inching through a stop sign, I sped around the corner to Fall Away Lane just as she was rounding the corner from the other end.
“Go!” Madoc shouted, and I was about ready to punch him. What did he think I was doing?
Full speed ahead on the empty street, we both raced forward, and I screeched to a halt at the curb, followed by Tate not half a second later, the loud scream of our tires filling the whole neighborhood.
“Yes!” Madoc shouted, howling out the window. “Woo-hoo!”
I let my head fall back, my chest expelling every ounce of breath I’d been holding. Jax patted me on the shoulder, squeezing tight once, and climbed out of the car after Madoc.