Page 41 of Forsaken Oath

Eloise’s eyes widen, her lips twitching as she fights back a smile. “I don’t know what that is, but it’s definitely not the boy scout sign.”

I grin, unrepentant. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize the classicStar Treksalute.”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, the sound bright and unexpected in the night air. It washes over me like a warm breeze.

“Can’t say that I do.”

Wonder hums underneath my skin. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to the gang sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe, when you’re not running the Alley, right?” she asks, her smile still lingering.

I whistle. “Damn, Peach, obsessed much?”

She arches a brow and gives me a look that saysseriously? “I live in Avalon Falls, remember?”

“Yeah, funny how that worked out, hm? Yet, here we are, hours away in another town, meeting again,” I muse, letting that sink in for a minute.

“Here we are,” she murmurs, a small smile playing at the edge of her mouth.

Fuck it. I’m gonna tell her. She already knows the biggest secret I have. What’s another one?

Plus, I saw her race the other night. She’s fucking good. There’s no way she doesn’t make it to the Gauntlet.

My impulsiveness might take me out one day, and all I can do is hope that it’s not today.

19

ELOISE

He holdshis palm a few inches away from my waist, like he’s trying very hard not to touch me. I let him guide me into a small alcove next to the Batter Up food truck. He looks around, his gaze bouncing over everyone near us before he leans toward me.

Lowering his voice, he murmurs, “The Coalition runs the Gauntlet. Think of them as a board of directors for all legal street racing in this region. My brother and I are on that board, because, you’re right, we run the Alley. Pre-qualifiers are randomly assigned to any track that applies. Which provides a nice little gray area to anyone who wants to compete.”

My heart skips a beat at his mention of the Coalition and the Gauntlet. The words swirl in my mind, each revelation building upon the last. His brother. The Alley. A board of directors. It’s a lot to take in, and I’m trying to connect the dots.

The girl manning the pick-up window calls my name, and before I can take a step to retrieve our order, Beau steps away. He comes back with his hands full of desserts on sticks.

“Thanks,” I murmur, accepting the Oreo. Our fingers brush, and I swear shivers tiptoe up my forearm.

“To your first deep-fried festival experience,” Beau says, raising his fried chocolate-covered banana.

I tap mine to his in celebratory cheers before taking a bite. The first bite is an explosion of flavors and textures. The crisp outer shell shatters between my teeth, giving way to the soft, gooey center. It’s a dance of contrasts.

I glance up at Beau, only to find him already watching me. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away. The chatter of the crowd, the distant roar of engines, the pulsing music—it all blurs into the background until there's nothing but him and me and the lingering sweetness on my tongue.

His gaze is intense, his blue eyes darkening as they roam over my face. There’s a heat there, a hunger that sends a thrill racing down my spine. But there’s something else too, a tenderness that catches me off guard. It’s there in the way his brows draw together slightly, in the softness around his mouth.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. The moment stretches between us, charged and intimate despite the crowds milling around us.

“Good, right?” he murmurs, his voice rough like gravel. He takes another bite of his, and I can’t help but watch the way his lips close around it, the hint of his tongue darting out to catch a smear of chocolate.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My cheeks feel warm, and I have to clear my throat.

"Here, try mine," Beau says, holding out his chocolate-covered banana toward me. There's a playful glint in his eyes, a challenge and an invitation all at once.

I hesitate for a moment, my gaze flicking between the proffered treat and his face. There’s something undeniably intimate about the gesture, about the idea of tasting something that his lips have just touched.

But curiosity and a thrill of recklessness win out over caution. I lean in, my eyes locked on his, and take a bite.

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