Page 45 of Hyperspeed
“Identical?” I asked, sure she was wrong. Must have miscounted somehow.
“Yep.” Elyn passed us the clipboard, and there in black and white were our scores. Identical, just like she’d said.
“You both did great,” Elyn said. “You blew the other drivers out of the water! But isn’t it cool that you finished up with the same score?”
“So cool,” I muttered, eyes glued to the paper.
“Yep,” Kai bit out. “Fascinating.”
When Elyn left us, telling us to keep the scoresheet, we continued to stare at it, shoulder to shoulder. Neither of us spoke, and the silence stretched.
Growing uncomfortable, I cleared my throat, looking anywhere but at Kai. “Guess that makes us evenly matched.”
“Guess so,” he replied.
Another beat passed, and the usual tension crackled between us, tight and sparking like a live wire.
“This doesn’t mean we’re equals,” I snapped, quicker than I meant to.
Kai turned to me with a smirk.
“No, rookie. It means next time, I’m gonna bury you.”
I snatched the scoresheet from his hands, resisting the urge to crumple it and throw it at his forehead. “In your dreams.”
He stepped in close, voice low and smug. “You’ll look so good in my dreams.”
And with that, he sauntered off, whistling a jolly little tune as he went.
Houston, We Have a Big F#%king Problem
Kai
I lay in bed, staring at the pile of laundry on top of the chest of drawers.
They were the clothes I’d worn for the KFK event, and I’d had to wash them three times before the grass stains came out. The white T-shirt still had streaks of green, though, so it’d have to go. At least I had a dozen more tucked away in a drawer.
The stains were a result of the three-legged race, when Rev and I had spent more time rolling around on the ground than we had on our feet.
When laundry time came, a part of me hadn’t wanted to wash them away because it felt like I’d be washing away the memory. The greater, more logical part of me knew Ishouldwant them gone. They were a reminder of our failure, because we hadn’t even finished the race.
Sure, we’d won the overall competition, but I hated losing anything. So why would I want to keep something that reminded me of that?
Even if the aftermath was hilarious.
Days later and it still made me chuckle.
The way Rev had scrambled to untie us before running away. The way his ears had twitched in frustration and his skin had glowed with fiery hues. The way his body heat had seeped into mine from where he’d lain on top of me, his face pressed into my stomach just above the waistband of my shorts, and his thigh pressed between my legs applying the slightest friction to my cock.
I couldn’t shake the image of his eyes—deep, shadowed things lit with diamond-bright sparks—and my dick twitched beneath the covers. I stared down at it in horror, because I was not chubbing up over thoughts ofRev.
It’d been a while since I’d got laid, but was I really that hard up?
Absolutely fucking not.
But it seemed my dick was feeling neglected and choosing violence.
The horny part of me controlled by my hindbrain begged me to pet it . . . maybe stroke it a little to say how sorry I was. Pretty sure it was my dick sending subliminal messages to trick me into something I’d later regret.
