I guessed that was a lie.
She wore skinny jeans tucked into combat boots and a black sleeveless blouse that draped flatteringly down her body past her hips. Her wrists were adorned with dozens of metal and jelly bracelets while her ears sported metal from the lobe all the way around to the tragus. Her face had a few holes as well.
She seemed like Fallon, only louder.
Seeing Ben approach him—probably to break the ice sooner rather than later—I headed over with Fallon and Juliet, catching Jared’s eyes almost immediately.
Madoc leaned into Jared, speaking close, but Jared’s gaze stayed on me as Ben grabbed my hand when I came up. I blinked, smiling up at him and hoping he couldn’t feel the sweat on my palms.
“Tate.” Jared nodded.
I breathed in and out steadily through my nose, keeping my pulse in check. “Jared.”
“Your career really took off, man,” Ben admired, speaking to Jared. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Jared replied without meeting Ben’s eyes.
“Clear the track!” I heard Zack holler in the distance as the round-one drivers took position.
“So you two finally got together?” Jared inquired, his words sounding more like a statement than a question.
I arched a brow, turning back to the track and ignoring him.
Ben joined me, taking my lead that I had no intention of indulging a conversation with Jared. Zack announced the next race, and we all watched as he and Jax set up the drivers and sent them off.
The heavy engines shot off, pounding over the screams of the crowd, and I smiled as the cars roared past, the wind sending my hair flying over my shoulder.
Juliet and Fallon chatted, and Madoc hung back, staying quiet. Jared stayed behind me on the bleachers, the heat of his eyes covering my back.
I’d missed that feeling.
“Well,” Jared’s smooth voice floated behind me. “Our little pond certainly has come a long way, hasn’t it? My brother looks like he’s outdone himself with the Loop. Some amazing races, hot new drivers . . .”
I slipped my fingers into the pockets of my tight jeans and tilted my chin up, the corner of my mouth tilting in a grin.
“But it’s still a small pond,” he finished, his hard voice dripping with disdain.
When he tore me down in high school it was to feel better about himself. But now it was to get me to react.
I turned around, meeting his eyes but never giving him what he wanted. He could gloat and wear his self-satisfied smirk, but I didn’t play this game anymore.
But much to my surprise, Jared wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t teasing. His expression was dead cold, and his eyes bored a hole right through me.
There was no anger, no amusement, no threatening tone to his voice . . .
What was he thinking?
“This is Pasha, my assistant.” Jared introduced the goth-looking girl he’d driven in with. He turned to her. “Pasha, this is Tate and Ben.”
Assistant? Yeah, right. Men and women who were attractive and unattached generally weren’t friends. Unless one of them was gay.
“Tate?” Pasha repeated as if she recognized my name, and I saw her shoot a look to me and then back to Jared. “As in . . . ?” she asked him, trailing off as if they shared a hidden understanding.
I narrowed my eyes, noticing that he stayed silent, with his eyes focused out on the race.
And her interested expression turned judgmental as an eyebrow shot up.
She knew something.
I turned back around, just in time to see the racers cross the finish line, and I wondered if Jared had talked about me with her. It would’ve been unlike him. He rarely confided in anyone, so why her?
“Round two!” Zack shouted over the loudspeaker, making me jump.
I looked over the track, my game face lost, and . . .
And now my blood wasn’t dancing under my skin. It was shaking.
Shit.
“On the track!” Zack shouted, and Ben hooked my elbow, pulling me away.
“Shake it off,” he told me, cupping my face. “His being here doesn’t matter.”
I brought his hands down gently, giving him a half smile. I was grateful for what he was trying to do, but I could take care of myself.
I let Ben kiss me on the lips before I turned away and walked to my car, hearing whistles from the guys in the crowd. Even more so this week with Madoc’s little impromptu wardrobe alteration on my shirt catching everyone’s attention. Sometimes I dressed to kill, simply because it was fun to change it up, but I wanted to be noticed for my driving, not shaking my ass.
Climbing in, I pulled my car up to the starting line and sat next to Jaeger, with Chestwick and Kelley behind us. It was another four-car race, which made it interesting, with the narrow track.
I climbed out of the car to go hear instructions.
All three guys, surrounded by their girlfriends and our friends, crowded around the front of the cars as Jax stood up in the tower doing his techie thing and Zack administered the rules.
I steeled my body, determined that in one minute, I’d be in my car, with my music, and everything else forgotten.
“All right, everyone,” Zack rallied us, his bald head shining in the stadium lighting. “It’s a four-loop race. The top finishers from last week get the two front spaces this week. No rubbing, and no shenanigans.” He pointed around to all of us. “You don’t race clean, you won’t be invited back.”
Rules we already knew and rules that were hard not to break. The track was wider than it had been in high school but not wide enough for four cars. Not rubbing was nearly impossible.
Zack eyed all of us for compliance, and the crowd started chanting names.
“I’m ready,” I said, nodding.
Zack peeked over our heads, toward the bleachers.
“Mr. Trent!” He called for Jared, feigning formality. “How about a turn for old time’s sake, Mr. Big Shot?” he joked.
He held out his hands, trying to make a big show and get the crowd riled up as they started cheering.
“Sorry, man,” I heard Jared say in the distance behind me. “There’s only one race I’ll take, but I’m not sure she’s ready to give me what I want.”
“Ohhhh,” the crowd nearly panted, and before I let his words sink in, I did an about-face and got into my car without giving him a look.
Everyone cleared the road, and I glanced into my rearview mirror as the engines roared to life. He leaned back on his elbows, looking my way, and I averted my eyes, rolling up my windows and turning up Shinedown’s “Adrenaline.”
Nothing. I closed my eyes, letting the music sink in. Nothing was weighing me down.
Med school was a done deal. The house wasn’t important. Ben was no pressure. Jared was nothing but a temptation that couldn’t be trusted.
I was on top of the world.
My car door opened, and I snapped my eyes over to see Jared’s “assistant” climbing into the car.
“What are you doing?” I barked, watching her settle back and fasten the seat belt.
“Coming with,” she answered, pushing her black-frame glasses up the bridge of her nose.
I stared at her, befuddled, because I wasn’t entirely sure if she was trying to be friendly or piss me off.
I cleared my throat and looked at her. “You’re sleeping with my ex-boyfriend,” I pointed out. “Get out.”
She reached over, turning down the volume on my stereo.
“I’m not sleeping with Jared,” she corrected. “I have never slept with Jared, nor do I ever want to.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying her.
She nodded, allowing, “Although we are close, even though he likes to pretend we’re not. I saw him almost cry once, and it kind of made me like him more despite the fact that he maintains it never happened,” she explained. “But he’s not my type, and I promise you of that.”
She looked at me firm and serious, and I kind of believed her.
And then I wondered why I cared.