Page 114 of Full Throttle

Even if my story wasn’t over, I could give myself this. I was allowed to feel happy, even if it was only for a day.

She revved her engine as her passenger window rolled down. “You sure you wanna do this? We could just make out until the Fam Bam gets here.”

My lips twitched. “Fam Bam?” I parroted.

She laughed. “Cleo calls all of us the Fam Bam.”

Fam Bam is it then.

I nodded, chuckling. “As much as I want to taste you, there is nothing else I’d rather do right now than race the woman of my dreams.” Her laughter faded, her body freezing in her driver’s seat as she looked at me.

Fuck, she was too beautiful for words. I revved my engine. “Ready?”

Blinking, she recovered from my words and focused straight ahead. “Ready.”

“Four laps, Clover.”

She nodded, grinning. “Okay.”

“On three, gorgeous,” I told her softly as my hand tightened on the steering wheel.

“One,” she called, looking straight ahead.

“Two,” I said back, my eyes still on her as I witnessed her change before me. She raised her chin slightly, confident in not only herself, but her car. I saw her eyes sparking behind her shades, the silk of her hair falling down her shoulders like a waterfall, her skin golden in the sun, her pink lips twitching with excitement.

She was in her element.

Dominique Wells was everything a racer should be.

When I was knocking on death’s door, this would be the memory I’d come back to.

“Three!” she screamed out, laughing.

My body reacted on its own, and the car surged forward at the same time as hers.

Gaining speed, I shifted before putting my foot back on the gas as both of us flew down the stretch of the track, heading straight into the sun. We both fought for first place, a tug of war for power. We flew past Oasis and within the next second, the other side of the parking lot was beside us. I looked over at her, expected to find her serious, but she wasn’t.

She was laughing, her white teeth gleaming. In that moment, I loathed the sound of our engines. I didn’t want to hear their power. I wanted to hear her laughter. My chest ached and I looked ahead, noting the first turn was coming up. We were side by side now, RPMs rising.

Because I couldn’t fucking help it, I looked back over to her and found her glee replaced by that same addictive confidence she had before.

Fucking hell.

I was going to lose this race if I didn’t get my shit together.

I shifted again, slowing up a bit as she took the turn, drifting wider than I expected her too. A low chuckle rumbled up from my chest. “Too wide, baby,” I muttered, taking the opportunity and going into a drift on the inside of the turn.

I passed her and came out of the turn smoothly, straightening my Silvia. My eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror just in time to see her straightening out from the turn, her hair flying around her. She jerked her wheel, and a second later, she was up beside me. I looked over to her to find her looking at me. Shifting again, I shot her wink before taking off ahead of her again. I completed the second stretch before her and drifted the second turn. When I straightened out, ready to fly over the starting line, I saw a flash of yellow fly by me.

My clover girl.

It was a battle between us for the next two laps, and I was so impressed by her driving. She’d proved herself to the racing community and to me. She’d done that all on her own, all in order to help me.

Fuck, but I loved this woman.

I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her coloring on her driveway. All the days before that were fuzzy. My life didn’t really start until she raced into it, full speed.

On the final lap, the battle continued, and she’d learned her lesson with the turns. She was taking them tighter now—cleaner. We came to the first turn, and she took it, gliding over the pavement like butter. Her long hair was flying out of her window, her hand on the steering wheel, head turned to focus on the turn, but right before she straightened out, she twisted her head and blew me a kiss.

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