Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 29

Race day came upon us quickly. I was there with Dexter through the entirety of the beginning stages, hovering around as he checked and re-checked pieces of his car. With no crew to help him, he was mostly on his own. I tried to offer a lending had when able, but once his co-driver showed up, I was pretty much useless. And, to be fair, I felt more nervous than he did.

Before he was off, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight to my body. I breathed in deep, loving the feeling of his race coveralls and the smell of the vehicle in his hair. That moment would have looked so romantic to anyone caring to watch, but there was no acting this time.

"I'm so proud of you," I whispered softly.

"I'm scared shitless," he laughed. "This is my first real race against guys who actually know what they are doing."

I eased back just enough that I could look into his eyes. Every single emotion he was feeling was on full display. "You know what you're doing," I assured. "This is what you have wanted all your life. Go out there and take it, Dex."

There was another brief squeeze before we were separated. Since this was a small race there were no big screens displaying every turn and corner. Rally was designed to be challenging and dynamic, so the race stage went on for kilometers, dipping into forests and around hills. I set off to the find one of the hair-pin turns he had been concerned about. I wouldn't be able to see much, but I wanted to be there to cheer him on when he succeeded or to help dig him out when he got buried in the snow.

I stayed atop a snow bank, a safe distance back, watching car after car rip by. I would forever be grateful to Zara for putting Dexter in the position that he was currently in, but each time I saw a car whiz by, I found myself counting the sponsorship decals on it. Far more than what Dexter had on his. And sponsors went far beyond car parts. It was energy drinks companies that would pay for flights, motor oil giants that could chip in for photoshoots. This industry was expensive and being successful didn't come cheap.

"Hey, you're the girlfriend of the new kid," someone said from beside me as yet another car screeched through.

"Uh, yeah." I wasn't a particular fan of being called someone's anything, but wasn't in a place to argue.

The woman talking to me was a sharp-eyed creature that reminded me of a shark, slicing through the deep. Purposeful, but something to be respected instead of feared. "Is he any good?"

"He's passionate," I said carefully.

"Passionate doesn't warrant a queen giving you a car."

"She saw him drive, she was impressed." I had more to say, but I heard an engine rev and my eyes saw Dex's car. The Volkswagen came rocketing into view. The speed was immense, but even so, I could see Dexter's hands moving abruptly on the steering wheel. Hard, jerky movements that took no time to complete and the car responded like a gem. I wasn't aware of it, but my hand lifted to touch my thundering heart. This was it. One second I could be screaming in victory, the next I could be jumping onto the track to use my hands as shovels.

The black and red car slowed so aggressively it would have caused an accident in normal traffic. Tires spun on ice. The car turned sideways. The engine gave out a scream. And Dexter glided around that corner like it was nothing.

"Oh, yes!" I squealed, then I was off, racing to get to my car so I could meet him at the finish line.

I felt like I was driving my Camry just as hard as Dexter was driving his hot hatch. I made it to the finish area before he did since his gravel road route was much more demanding than my straight highway line, but I could hardly contain my excitement. Even if he had crashed, even if he had spun out, he had gotten through the part that had terrified him. That was a win in itself.

I tried to stay back where the spectators were, but I jittered and jumped every time a car rolled by. And when it was my black and red car, I just literally hopping around with joy, following the car, even after a volunteer told me to stay back. I sprang after the car until it was parked in its designated spot, then tittered by the driver's door.

The door was barely ajar before I had my arms around Dexter. I heard him laugh beneath his helmet. "Does that mean I have a good time?"

"Who cares?" I blurted while he wrestled his helmet off. "You made it through your first race!"

"Times matter, Lonny," he chuckled.

It was an impulsive move, one that even surprised me. but seeing him like this, with a little sweat in his messy hair, with a smile bigger than I had ever seen and glittering eyes, it did something to me that I couldn't have expected. My hands found the side of his face and I pulled him down to eliminate the distance between us. My mouth pressed against his.

There was no hair pulling, no lip biting that was better suited to quiet corners and dark rooms. He wasn't whispering dirty things in a raspy voice. There was no press here. And, if I was being entirely honest with myself, this wasn't acting. I was proud of him. I was thrilled with how far he had come, what he had conquered today.

I was kissing my best friend because I couldn't find the right words to tell him everything I was thinking.

When I pulled away, Dexter let out a breathless laugh. His amber eyes followed the curve of my mouth. I knew by the way his hands pressed against my back, keeping me close, that he had felt it too. I could backpedal all I wanted; it wouldn't make a difference. He knew that I had just kissed him because I had wanted to. Because I had needed to.

The realization should have scared me. it should have terrified me because I had broken my own rule and I was walking away from things that mattered to me, giving up. But I couldn't care right then, with my hand pressed against his chest and his arm draped over my shoulders as we watched race times.

And I certainly didn't care when he placed and my fake boyfriend ended up in third place. I didn't stop screaming or cheering until well after he was standing on the little podium, holding a bottle of alcohol as local newspapers took a million photos.

All I could think was that he had really done it. He had broken into the world that he had only dreamed about.

~~~Question of the Day~~~

Who do you go out of your way to be nice to?