Crash Into You (16 page)

My eyes widen and my heart beats hard in my chest. “I so want to do that.”

Chapter 29
Isaiah

WITH MY ARMS TIGHTLY CROSSED
over my chest and my feet spread apart, I watch from a distance as Rachel chats animatedly with Zach, the owner of the Mustang Cobra. Her hair cascades down her back like a waterfall and her hands move gracefully in the air as she relays some story involving her Mustang on a country road.

Zach touches her arm right above her elbow and says something that incites her laughter. A muscle in my jaw jumps. I’ve known Zach since freshman year. We’ve taken every automotive course together, and I was there when he bought the Cobra for dirt cheap. If the boy keeps flirting with Rachel, he and I may not be friends by the end of the night.

“Hey, Isaiah.”

I tear my eyes off of Rachel for a second to greet Logan. “S’up.”

“Thought I’d check out the action,” he says, following my gaze to Rachel.

In a motion I’ve memorized, Rachel shyly bites her bottom lip.
Don’t do it. Don’t look at Zach with those gorgeous eyes searching for him to be your answer like you did with me.

The muscles in my neck relax when she brushes her hair over her shoulder and steps back, causing him to remove his hand. Distracting Zach, she points to the Cobra and moves closer to the car.

“What did you think?” I ask Logan, hoping to distract myself. Watching Rachel laugh with another guy twists knots in my gut.

“That was some insane shit.” A jean jacket replaces Logan’s school one, and he almost fits in with a T-shirt and jeans, but his black hair still has that straitlaced gel-style.

“Think you can handle a car going that fast, man?”

A lunatic smile crosses his face. “Yes.”

Before Beth fell for Logan’s friend, Ryan, she had told me stories involving this kid. She said his only fuel was adrenaline. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. “Got a problem with that?”

“No,” I reply. “But I do have a problem with Beth. You want me to work on your car, then I’m fine with that, but keep her out of my garage.” And out of my life.

Zach opens his car door for Rachel and she trembles with excitement as she slides into the driver’s seat. Part of me loves seeing her happy. The other part yearns to shove Zach in a body bag.

“Look,” says Logan. “I’m a couple of weeks away from earning enough to buy a used supercharger from a friend, and I have a feeling we’ll need to replace some of the exhaust.”

Several parts of his statement catch me off guard. “You already know cars, don’t you?”

“What if I do?”

What if he does? When I say nothing, he continues, “Beth heard about the car and went nuts, knowing it gave her an excuse to see you. She misses you, but she’s with Ryan.”

Logan waits for his words to sink in. Yeah, I got it. Beth’s in love with his best friend. “Ryan’s got nothing to fear from me.” And that’s the damn truth. There’s no part of me that wants Beth anymore.

She’s in love with someone else and having my heart ripped out and burnt to ashes keeps me from wanting to replay the game with her.

“Beth’s my friend so I played car idiot. She needed an excuse to see you, and we wanted an excuse for someone to come with her.”

Because Beth is a fucking hurricane and would have blown into town regardless of what anyone else thought or desired. Yeah, I understood that, too. I may not like what happened between me and Beth, but I can respect the guy for being loyal to her.

“To be honest,” says Logan. “I could use your help.” He gestures at the dragway. “And nothing in Groveton can offer me that type of rush.”

“Can you pay me?” I ask.

“Not if I buy the supercharger. But if you agree to help me put the charger in and help make some other modifications, then I’ll give you anything I win at the dragway.”

I had planned to ask Noah to help drag race my way out of the debt, but he’s been slammed with his own problems. “Have you drag raced before?”

“Illegally, on backcountry roads and with other guys’ cars.”

“Are you any good?”

He shrugs. I can tell by the cocky way his shoulders flex that the kid’s an ace. Or at least he’s won against his redneck friends. “I’ve won a few.”

I can’t believe I’m going to explain this or that I’m making the offer. No one other than me drives my car, but desperate times... “Rachel and I are in some bad shit. I’ll be racing her car to win money. If you want, you can race mine.”

The parts I intend to add to her car will mean speeds that will put me against better racers. Better racers translates to bigger bets.

“You owe money,” Logan says—a statement, not a question.

“To the wrong people, and they won’t take kindly to anyone helping us.”

His smile widens, proving the kid is bat-shit crazy. “A debt, a villain, speed and bad odds. This is something I definitely want to be a part of.”

Amused, I shake my head. I’m joining forces with a fucking country-jock. I extend my hand. “We got a deal.”

He has a strong grip and doesn’t fear eye contact. I already like the son of a bitch. Logan jerks his thumb at Rachel. “Is she your girlfriend?”

My eyes shoot to his, and he immediately holds up his hands. “Beth’s my friend, and with that handshake, you are, too. I am neutral territory.”

“We’re friends,” I answer in regards to Rachel.

She spent the first part of the evening trying to ignore me. Eventually, she broke down and talked cars, but it’s obvious she meant what she said to me in the garage: that she and I would work together and nothing more.

Zach rests his hands on the roof of his car and leans down to put his head closer to Rachel’s. She still sits in the driver’s seat with both hands on the wheel. Because fate has taken pity on me, she’s totally absorbed with the machinery and not with Zach. It’s like he knows nothing about personal space.

“You look like the two of you are just friends,” says Logan.

“I’m just watching her back.” I promised Rachel and myself that I’d protect her—from Eric, from the world.

“So you’re telling me that you’re into delusional shit?”

My spine straightens. “What did you say?”

Not giving a damn that I’m two seconds away from throwing a fist into his face, Logan lazily hooks his thumbs into his pockets and slouches to the side. “I got this friend Chris, right? He fell for another friend of ours, Lacy, but he didn’t want to admit it. Claimed the friend card, just like you, but for six months he looked at Lacy just like you’re looking at Rachel.”

“How’s that?”

“Like she amputated part of you and took it with her the last time she walked away.”

“Naw, you have it wrong.” But as my gaze switches to Rachel again there’s an ache growing in my chest. “Rachel and I are complicated.”

“Does your homeboy know you’re in a ‘complicated’ relationship with her?” asks Logan.

Since I’ve never brought a girl to the track before, you’d think my “homeboy” would be reserved. “Not sure.”

“So you’re standing thirty feet away because...”

“She wanted to see that car.”

“You could have gone over to see it with her.”

“Could’ve.”

“Jealousy’s a bitch,” taunts Logan. “And a symptom.”

“Why do you care?” I pop my neck to the side. If I look too close at the reason why I chose to keep distance between me and Zach, it’s because Zach’s a player and if I were any closer, I’d kick his ass and then Rachel would never see that car.

“I don’t,” he answers. “For some reason I’ve got a thing with stating the obvious. So you’re into her. If this shit you’re in is that bad, you might want to figure out what’s going on with the two of you first. Save yourself the drama of a breakdown in the middle, you know?”

I rub my hands over my face and feel as if my knees are about to give out. Fuck me, I am jealous and that is bad news. Wanting her is one thing, kissing her once in a moment of weakness is another. But having feelings for her? This is the type of shit that almost killed me with Beth.

“The look on your face is why I’m never falling,” Logan says. “I’ll swing my car by this week.”

I nod my goodbye and search for calm before I head over to the Cobra. The car may be named after a reptile, but its owner is the damned snake.

“Why would you mess with the original engine, though?” Rachel slides her fingers over the steering wheel as if she’s in mourning. “She was beautiful just the way she was born.”

Zach finally acknowledges me when my elbow smacks against his side as I shove my way between him and Rachel. He straightens and mumbles so only I can hear, “Damn, she gives me a hard-on. Gorgeous, and she knows cars.”

“I suggest you back the fuck off,” I mutter.

Zach smirks. “Hey, you’re the one that left her here with me.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Rachel asks.

“Cars,” I say. “You said you needed to be home by ten. It’s nine-thirty.”

She blinks as if she just woke up. “Crap. Already?”

I step aside so Rachel can exit the driver’s seat. Because Rachel is every guy’s fantasy, Zach begs her to stay: she should see the engine, she can ride in his car, she can drive his car. Each of his attempts to lure her to stay causes me to think of one more way to hide the body parts after I kill him. Rachel laughs him off and thankfully follows me to the parking lot.

The gravel crunches beneath our feet, and I envision a million different ways to wipe that conceited smirk off Zach’s face as she describes, in detail, every inch of the Cobra. A continual pressure builds with each word out of her mouth. I remind myself I was the one who introduced her to the dick.

“...and the inside was perfect.” Rachel rambles with a level of excitement I only thought possible in four-year-olds. “Like it just rolled off the lot. Well, not really, but you can tell he’s done a great job trying to re-create the feel...”

She’s impressed with him. Impressed with his car. Just impressed. And it’s not with me. We reach our cars, and the pressure rises to the level of explosion. “Do you like him?”

“What?” She half chokes.

“Zach. He asked you out. Do you want to date him?”

Rachel grimaces. “He did not ask me out.”

“Yeah. He did. He asked you to take a ride with him next weekend and you blew past the question. Did you want to say yes, but didn’t because I was there?”

Her mouth opens and closes several times. “He didn’t... It’s me, so he wouldn’t... Why do you care?”

Fuck it. “Because I do.”

Adrenaline pours into my bloodstream with the words, and my eyes dart around her face hoping to see some sort of a sign that what I said mattered. That I matter.

“Give me something, Rachel.” A word. A knowing glance. Anything.

Her beautiful eyes widen and because she must be the type that enjoys playing with fire her gaze falls to my lips. “Give you what?”

My heart rate increases. I’d give anything to kiss her again. Without realizing it, I step forward and Rachel retreats, backing into the car. Keeping her eyes locked with mine, I slowly reach out and cradle the slender curve of her waist, and when she says or does nothing to stop me, I step closer, letting my body slide against hers.

She sucks in air, and I love the soft sound. Her body heat reaches out and warms me and I wish I could wrap my arms fully around her. I crave to lose myself in the crook of her neck and be surrounded by her silky hair. Rachel tries to lower her head, but I reach up and touch her chin. “Don’t.”

I tilt her head up, engulfing her line of vision. She’s going to see me and me alone. No cars, no Zach, none of the other assholes trying to win her eye during the night. The sweet scent of jasmine entwining with the salty smell of the beach rushes into my lungs. I lick my lips, wanting to kiss her, but I’m too full of energy to dare let my lips brush hers.

Beneath my fingertips, her pulse beats wildly. “I don’t understand you, Isaiah.”

“Then we have something in common, because I don’t get you at all.” Nor do I understand the edge of anger and confusion beginning to roll in my veins.

Rachel was supposed to be a memory burned into my brain. The girl that I kissed, the girl that left me wanting more. But she’s delved deeper than physical, become embedded, and I don’t know how to dig her out. “I shouldn’t like you.”

She blinks several times as her eyes get glossy, but the tears I expect never come. Instead she jerks her chin and I drop my hand. “I think that’s clear. You kissed me then you never called.”

“If Eric knew I care for you, he’d use that against me.” Tons of people Eric know could be watching us, calling him, telling him that I’m close to the girl he felt betrayed him. It’ll give him an advantage over me. It’ll let him know my weaknesses, but the thought of Rachel accepting a date from another guy overpowers any logical thought.

“That sounds like a convenient excuse.” She wraps her arms around her waist, but she doesn’t push me away. Part of her wants me. A part she doesn’t understand, probably just like the part I can’t control. We’re at a tipping point. Both of us teetering one way or the other. I need the right words.

“I found out that night from a friend that you were in danger. I couldn’t let Eric think I liked you, not when your life was on the line. You were never going to be a fuck and I never called because I couldn’t be the link that led Eric to you.”

She shakes her head as I talk. “You told Eric I meant nothing!”

My voice rises to her level. What doesn’t she understand? “I was protecting you!”

Rachel presses both of her hands against my chest and forces me away. “I gave you my first kiss! I deserved better than to be left hanging. I deserved better than to be treated like I was nothing! Then I deserved better than to have your girlfriend thrown in my face!”

Girlfriend? “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Beth,” she says as a slur.

“Beth is not my girlfriend!” I yell and the sound of any conversation around us ceases. Both of us are breathing hard, as if we’ve run miles. She’s right. She deserved better then and deserves better now. She blinks and I hate that I can’t read her expression.

“What do you want from me?” I demand. I’ve tried to explain. I’ve tried to make nice and it’s not enough. Just like with Beth, nothing I do will be enough.