Fast Lane by Lizzie Hart Stevens Read Free Book Online Page B

thinking of everything that’s happened today: the diner, the tattoo shop, my driveway…
    Maybe Coen’s right. Maybe the universe, or the man upstairs, is trying to tell us something. Maybe it was meant to be that I broke up with Patrick last night, so I wouldn’t be attached while bumping into Coen three times today.
    Just as the song ends, my text notification sounds. It’s Derek. Coen’s in position, and apparently isn’t impressed about this being a cheap race. Something tells me that once he finds out it’s me, that won’t matter anymore.
    I have butterflies in my stomach as I drive around the building. As I turn the corner, I see about 20 cars lined up, and the ass end of that sexy-as-hell HellCat of Coen’s.
    I swallow the lump in my throat. Our cars are now side by side, the engines idling. My windows are tinted—there’s pretty much no way he can see me. I’m glad, too, because I want an honest race. I don’t want him taking it easy on me because I’m a woman.
    Derek is standing in front of us holding the walkie-talkie up to his ear. I’m guessing he’s waiting for the all-clear. I quickly sneak a glance over at Coen’s car. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles are white. His brow is furrowed. He really doesn’t seem too happy. I’m hoping he won’t be mad once he finds out it’s me he was racing.
    The smell of fuel momentarily intoxicates me. It reminds me of when my dad use to take me to the track as a kid. It’s one of my best memories of him.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Derek waving to get my attention. Coen and I both rev our engines in anticipation. The vibration sends chills down my spine and makes the butterflies in my stomach feel like they are now giant moths fighting to get out. Derek beckons me closer until my car is perfectly in line with Coen’s. As soon as he has us where we need to be, I strap on the helmet he lent me.
    “Good luck to you both.” Derek runs over to the sidelines, and the flag girl for the night runs over in her skimpy tank top, short skirt, and stilettos. She holds up a green scarf. The second it leaves her fingertips, Coen and I are off. Everything around us, the other cars, the warehouses, are suddenly a blur. We’re both giving it everything we’ve got. He’s not holding back, and neither am I. I’m fighting hard to keep up with that blue beast of his. I’m about two seconds behind Coen all the way to the end. No matter how hard I push, the Shelby just can’t get past him.
    We head back toward the warehouses. There I see Brea jumping up and down like an excited little kid, waving and waiting for me to get parked. I see Coen get out of his car first. He wastes no time in walking straight over to Brea, and I can only assume he asks her where I am. Brea smiles, and points in my direction.
    I open my car door and step out, slowly pulling the helmet off and tossing it onto the passenger seat. Brea makes it over to me before Coen does. “Hot damn, girl! I didn’t know you had that in you.” she says, high-fiving me.
    “Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy day, so why not make it crazier?” I say, combing my fingers through my helmet hair before putting it back into a ponytail.
    I just finish wrapping the elastic in my hair when Coen makes his way over to me in that slow, sexy stride. His green eyes look down at me. Slowly, that delicious smirk starts to appear.
    “Well, that was quite impressive, Lex.” He raises an eyebrow and angles his head to the side, giving me a better view of his neck tattoo. His whole attitude seems to have changed. Maybe he’s happy that I surprised him. I’m willing to bet that never in a million years did he expect to be racing me tonight. Especially given how rude I was to him all day.
    In my defense, I’m only human. I did just break it off with Patrick last night. But really, Coen’s done nothing wrong. There definitely was nothing wrong with that kiss in my car earlier today. And even