Page 31 of Furious
My nerves are already rattled by everything that happened tonight; earlier with Heather and then during the race.
I need to feel grounded. I need Zara. To myself.
“Hey dude,” I start once we leave campus and we’re driving through the deserted streets of Star Cove late at night. “Would you hate me if I asked you to go to your house tonight? I just need some time with Zara. She might be asleep, but I want to spend the night by her side. Once Dad and Kelly come back, I’ll have to be very careful about sneaking into her room.”
To my surprise, Lev doesn’t argue. “Sounds good. Just text me tomorrow if you want to do something together. Maybe we can take her to brunch or something.”
It’s easy to agree.
I hurry home after dropping Lev off at his house just a mile down the road.
There’s no one around at this time. Everything is quiet as the moon casts a silver glow over the mansions that climb up the hill. I only encounter one beat up truck driving back down toward the coast. They drive off without stopping, so I assume they must have gotten turned around at the intersection where you either come up here or get to the other side of town toward the military base.
Once I get into our driveway, I don’t even bother to open the garage door, stopping my truck right outside.
I close my eyes, resting my head against the top of my seat. I take a deep breath in the dark confines of my truck.
I don’t need to call my therapist to know that what happened earlier at the race was some fucked up kind of PTSD.
Until last week, I hadn’t been on a motorcycle since Bridgeport. Last week’s race was child play, but tonight the stakes were definitely higher. That’s what must have triggered my memories of Atlas’s final race.
Fox left me no choice but to race, at least for the time being, so I guess I’ll have to deal with whatever is going on in my head.
What’s that saying about getting back on the horse?
A noise outside pulls me out of my mini meltdown. Maybe I’m even more rattled than I thought, because there isn’t anyone outside.
I slide out of my truck and walk into the house.
Darkness greets me as I drop my keys in a catch-all bowl in the foyer.
I climb the stairs two at a time, suddenly in a hurry.
Zara must be already in bed, judging by the fact that there’s no light coming from under her bedroom door.
My eyes have become used to the darkness as I enter her room; so it’s easy to spot Zara’s sleeping form lying on one side of her king sized bed.
I make every effort to be quiet as I drop my leather jacket on the carpeted floor of her room.
My t-shirt goes next. Then my shoes, pants and underwear.
She doesn’t move, her breathing slow and even as I slide into the covers and settle behind her.
I don’t want to wake her, but I need to feel her skin against mine. I pull her into my arms, her back to my chest.
Fuck, she’s so soft and we fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.
She stirs, exhaling and nestling closer against me. “Chance?” she murmurs, her voice sleepy.
“Shh, everything is fine. Sleep, baby.”
Chapter 8
Caught Up In You
ZARA
Getting to the finish line before Cal is almost better than sex.
