Scar Page 5

  “Yikes,” Evita laughs lightly. “Well, we’re from out of town. One of the guys from the races told me this was the place to be tonight.” She shrugs, playing it cool, and I envy how effortless she makes it look. Maybe I do need some lessons.

  Ayda sits up straighter in her chair, a playful smirk crossing her lips. “Which guy?” She starts scanning the crowd, and my gaze follows in the same direction. Off in the distance, I finally see a group of three guys, separate from the rest. A truck sits parked on the sand and they are gathered around it.

  “His name was Eli or Elias something.” Evita laughs again and lifts her shoulders, faking that she forgot her name. She’s shameless, and I’ve never been more proud.

  “Elias Martinez invited you?” Ayda perks up at the information, leaning forward in her seat. “Elias is pretty much the quiet one of the group. I didn’t even know he knew how to talk to girls.”

  I giggle. “Well, that’s Evita for ya. She draws them in.”

  “I’m impressed.” Ayda clinks her glass to ours as Evita smiles.

  “Who’s your friends, little H?” a deep voice asks from behind us. My head swivels around and my jaw about drops open. I’d seen candid shots of Dean Osborne, but to see him up close and in person, there’s no comparison. I lower my lashes and take in everything about him. Tall, completely ripped, he’s standing before us bare chested with only a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips.

  “Some new friends,” Ayda shrugs, “Not groupies. This is Evita and her cousin, Scarlet.”

  “Hey,” I say, nodding, trying to look nice while also disinterested. I do not want to give these guys the wrong impression. Evita waves her hand and smiles, while also noticeably looking the man up and down. A full smile crosses Dean’s lips while his eyes dance between us.

  “You ladies should come over and join us then.” He nods his head in the direction of the lone group of guys. “Besides, Sam was looking for you, Ayd.”

  Her eyes roll. “He’s always looking for me. Where does he honestly think I’m going to disappear to?”

  “You know how he is,” Dean says, as if Ayda’s brother is always this protective of her. A pang of jealousy hits my gut before quickly disappearing. I would give anything to have a sibling. Then again, I wouldn’t wish my father on anyone.

  “We’ll be there in a minute,” she says and flicks her wrist, so he’ll leave. Dean takes the hint and starts walking toward his friends. I’m itching to follow now. Awareness that Trent is so close is making my insides flip. I take a small sip of my drink to help me keep my focus.

  “Your brother is the protective kind, huh?” Evita asks, keeping the conversation going.

  “Stepbrother,” Ayda replies automatically. Even in the dim fire light I can see her cheeks heat red. “Our parents married last year and decided they wanted to jet set. I stay with Sam when I can, but he’s gone a lot.”

  “Sounds rough,” I say, quietly, and she smiles at me softly. “I don’t have any siblings, but I think I would be protective of them too.”

  Ayda sighs. “If only he was reasonable. His rules are stricter than my mom’s.” Her eyes roll, and we laugh.

  “Ayd!”

  Our heads snap up to see one of the guys standing a few feet from the others and motioning her over.

  “Guess we better move before Sam has a stroke,” she huffs, while standing and grabbing her blanket and chair.

  Evita and I let her take the lead. Together, we cross the sand toward the guy who holds my freedom in his hands, even though he has no idea. A nervousness I’ve never felt before creeps along my spine, and rattles my confidence. My steps falter. I take a deep breath, in and out, reminding myself that I’ve done more dangerous missions that this in the past three years. I’ve looked death in the eye and fought my way back from being outnumbered and broken.

  “Where’ve you been?” A guy’s voice asks once we’re close enough, and I can feel the flames of their small, private fire. Ayda’s brow quirks, and I assume this must be Sam.

  “Hanging out with my new friends. Last I checked, I didn’t need to be near you twenty-four-seven.”

  “I’m just checking on you, Ayd. These parties can get wild,” Sam replies, his eyes swinging to the other crowds nearby. This is the tamest beach party I’ve ever been to. That and anyone with eyes can see the possessive way Sam is watching Ayd, not at all in a step-brotherly way. I fight the urge to smile. Turning my head, I happen to glance up and find a pair of deep blue eyes already on me. I hold his gaze. His lips quirk up as if he could read my thoughts and we would be in agreement.

  I can’t make myself look away from him. His surveillance picture doesn’t do him justice. Trent’s sandy brown hair is longer on top, pieces falling over his forehead, while the sides are cropped short. His stare seems to penetrate my soul, causing shivers to erupt on my arms and legs. My eyes take in his strong cheekbones, his square-cut jaw, and his full, pink-tinged lips that are now smirking at me. Something shifts in my chest and I tilt my chin up in response, letting him know I don’t care that he knows I’m checking out every single feature on his stupid handsome face.

  “Who are your friends, Ayd?” Trent asks, and I’m as unprepared to hear his gravelly voice as I was to see him up close. He has the perfect blend of the All-American boy face with the body of a rebel with tattoos painted over his tan skin, giving him a touch of badness. Heat swirls in my gut while his eyes run over me.

  “This is Evi, the girl I told you about,” Elias answers, his arm wrapping around my cousin. I feel everyone’s eyes land on me next and I still haven’t looked past Trent.

  “Scarlet,” I tell him, and watch the way his chest rises and falls with the information.

  “I’m Trent, ladies, it’s nice to meet you,” he finally says, before looking past me over to my cousin, shooting her a heart-stopping grin.

  “Likewise, Trent,” Evi replies, holding her cup up in mock salute before turning her attention back to Elias.

  Conversation around us continues, but I’m still frozen to the spot. Mentally berating myself, I turn toward the fire, one arm wrapping around my middle while the other lifts my drink to my lips.

  “You can sit here, if you don’t want to stand.” I hear his voice, and there’s a small tug on my jacket sleeve. My head turns to him, and I nod before stepping over to the truck’s tailgate. Setting my drink down, I hoist myself up, proud that I can, at least, do this gracefully.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, my hair falling in the my face, making curtain around it. Secretly I’m plotting all the ways I can explain to my dad why this is a bad idea. Maybe Evita and everyone else is right and I can’t take on guys my own age who aren’t actively trying to kill me. All his survival skills’ teachings won’t work on my teenage hormones.

  “Are you from around here?” Trent questions. I glance up and realize he’s closer to me, his body turned in my direction, interested in what I have to say.

  “No,” I shake my head, “Just in town for the race tonight.”

  “What did you think?”

  “It was good.” I shrug my shoulders, a small smile pulling at my lips. “You were okay.”

  “Ouch!” He grabs his chest in mock pain. “That hurts, Scar.” Scar. No one has ever shortened my name that way before. Lettie, yes, never Scar. I like the way it sounds. Powerful, dangerous, and a tad bit brutal. All the underlying things about myself that no one really knows about me.

  “Are you a big fan of racing then?” he asks, before bringing a water bottle up to his lips and taking a sip.

  “I don’t know about big,” I tell him, the honesty just pulling its way free from my mouth. “We just wanted to check it out while we’re in town.”

  “Girls’ trip?”

  “Something like that,” I smile, “more like a last hurrah before college and life.”

  “Gotcha.” He nods. “Where are you planning to go this fall?”

  I tilt my head, contemplating. “I’m not sure. I was accepted to US
C in LA but also Washington State. Then I was really out of my mind and applied to NYU. I’m still deciding where I want to be, I guess.”

  Trent continues to nod his head thoughtfully. “Do what makes you the most scared. From what I hear, it’s when you’re the most scared, or out of place, that people usually find themselves being the most at home.”

  My gaze wanders over his face and I wonder if he’s speaking from experience. Was he scared when he worked against my father? Or when he almost lost his racing career for being arrested? NYU is the scariest option for me right now because it gets me the farthest away from my father. In the end, though, that’s all I want.

  My heart tugs in my chest, listening to him talk. We’re hardly aware of anyone else around us, so caught up in our own stories and jokes. My brain pleads with me to leave and forget this mission, while my gut tells me to stay and soak this moment in. Every vein in my body hums in his presence in a way I’ve never felt before. The urge to know him and want things from him swirls around me. Every flame dancing in his eyes, every dip of his dimple when he smiles, and deep laugh in his chest calls to me. It’s a beautiful dream and I don’t want to wake up. I let myself ignore my responsibility and just be eighteen, talking to a gorgeous man, and laughing without worrying I’ll be punished.

  I don’t notice when everyone leaves and heads toward the bungalow. I don’t feel cold when the fires burn down to embers. “It’s already getting light,” Trent says, suddenly looking around too.

  “I can’t believe we talked all night.” I shake my head in disbelief, my lips smiling softly. “You’ll be so tired today.”

  His strong shoulders lift under his t-shirt. “I’m used to it. I’ll get a few hours in and be fine.”

  “Good,” I tell him, before hopping off the tailgate. My toes tingle from the blood rushing back to them. “I should probably find Evi and try and get her back to the hotel with me.”

  Trent watches me thoughtfully. “You both should just stay here. Ayda has an extra pull out in her room.”

  My eyes scan across the deserted beach and back to the truck. “Are you coming in?”

  He smiles and jumps down and stalks toward me. “I’ll go with you.”

  We walk in silence while we trudge across the sand and back toward the house. My mind dances through our conversations while energy ignites my veins. When we get to the sliding glass door, he reaches out his hand, stopping me from entering.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  My brow lifts. “I’m not sure yet. Whatever Evi planned,” I reply and instantly hate that it’s a lie. We originally planned to be at the race again in case we missed him tonight.

  “Come to the race again,” he tells me, his hand sliding off the door handle and closing around my wrist, before engulfing my hand in his. “I’ll leave you and Evi a ticket and a pass to the pits at the front gate.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, nervously biting my lip.

  He nods, before bending slightly until his face is level with mine. I shrink back slightly, a small gasp on my lips. His smile grows before he leans in and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Ayda’s room is on the second floor, last door on the left. Night, Scar.”

  I’m frozen outside the door while he walks in. Through the gauzy curtain blowing around me in the salty air, I watch his back retreat down the hall. My fingers gently touch the skin on my cheek that still tingles from his kiss. His scent lingers in the air, along with faint traces of bonfire smoke. In a daze, I make my way to Ayda’s room and notice she left a blow-up mattress and blankets out for me. The gesture is friendly and almost familial, something I’m not completely familiar with. I glance around and notice Evita is not in here. I smirk, knowing exactly whose bed she’s most likely sharing. In the dark, I can finally admit to myself that tonight wasn’t what I thought it would be. Trent is not who I expected him to be and it terrifies me.

  Trent

  The guys and I arrived an hour early and are lounging, stretching, and getting pumped up for today’s races. Top placers in this series advance next week to Nationals in California. I’m not crazy about heading to my home state, given the history there, but I am determined to claim a spot in Nationals. Doing well in California will get us to Colorado, where the big money will be, as well as the title that AfterHours racing is after. Winning in Colorado will mean media coverage and possibly more sponsorships.

  Even in the underground tunnels, the noise from the crowd above us is deafening. Night two of the races is always a little louder and more chaotic. People who couldn’t get Friday off of work are now here since it’s the weekend. The drinks have been flowing since eleven a.m., when the gate opened, and the Florida sun is already beating down on everyone. I hadn’t lied to Scarlet about only needing a few hours of sleep to pull myself together. I swear my head hit the pillow and before I knew it, Sam was pulling me out of bed and grumbling that we needed to shower and go.

  Scarlet. My knee starts bouncing just thinking about her. It feels like her and her cousin appeared out of thin air last night. I knew Elias met a girl after the races and he admitted to inviting her to the beach. I didn’t give a fuck because him actually making plans was a surprise on its own. Out of all of us, Elias usually keeps to himself, doesn’t mess with track bunnies, and is less focused on relationships. Unlike Sam, who can’t admit to himself how he feels and often makes mistakes by hooking up with track bunnies, only for it to blow up in his face later, when he’s moving Ayda all over the country to stay with us. The last thing I expected last night was to be completely wrapped up in a girl I just met. The minute she stepped next to me, shyly tucking her long, black hair behind her ear, and smiling, I felt something zap inside my chest. I had to be closer to her, needed to talk to her and hear every thought going on inside her head. I drank in her soft vanilla and coconut scent, skimmed my eyes over every arch of her full brows, the slope of her nose, and the full, dark lips that were calling to me. Every smile she gave is now locked in my mind. I hadn’t noticed when everyone went inside. I don’t remember the stars disappearing, only that by the time I looked anywhere else but at her, the sky was a light grey and pink clouds were in the horizon.

  For the hundredth time since I left the beach house this morning, I look down at my phone. Before leaving, I left my number on a piece of paper for her. The girls were all still sleeping when we slipped out the door. I guess I was hoping she’d maybe wish me luck or something? I run my hands through my hair, messing it up even more than normal. After dropping off my bag, I had rushed back up front and left an envelope with Joey that had the passes and advanced tickets for the girls like I had told Scarlet I would. Now, judging by the lack of texts, I’m wondering if maybe she didn’t want to be here today. Maybe I am an idiot.

  “Five minutes!” our crew chief yells into the locker room. I stand and fasten my pants tighter around my hips and tuck my t-shirt in. I throw my racing jersey on next, before tucking my gloves in my back pocket and grabbing my lid and goggles.

  At the last minute, I pull my AirPods out and shove them in my bag, bouncing on my feet to get the blood flowing. I feel the adrenaline spike in my veins and flex my hands, preparing them to be wrapped around the handles. Racing isn’t just in my blood, it’s a part of who I am. The sport has saved me in a way and given me a reason to fight.

  “Girls just got here,” Sam says, almost to himself, checking his phone one last time.

  My head turns to him. “Girls?”

  “Yeah, Ayda, Evi, and Scarlet just go here. She just texted me. They say thanks for the upgraded passes.” Sam nods at me, before slipping his phone into the cubby.

  The room stills while my brain filters everything he said. Scarlet is here. She wanted to come. Suddenly everything speeds up around me and a new wave of energy pumps through my body. I’m ready to get out there. Our crew chief pounds on the door, and we all fist bump each other on our way out.

  Jumping on my bike, I rev it up and we ride out onto the track. The crowd ro
ars while Eminem’s “Survival” blasts from the speakers, and we lap around, getting the feel of the track for the day. I drive around the dirt, take notice of the chunder, where it feels weaker, and the hardpack where it may be slippery if the dirt is loose. I see the new flag positions and gauge the double jump and the other side of the track where the tabletop is. In my mind, I preplan the tricks I can pull before heading over to the pits. Everything on my bike feels dialed in. I pull my goggles up and scan the area above us, until my gaze lands on the girl I can’t stop thinking about.

  In less than twenty-four hours, Scarlet is consuming my thoughts. I spot her, standing with Ayda and Evie. Her destroyed jean shorts are cut short, exposing every inch of her tan legs, looking miles long despite her shorter stature, which I didn’t even notice until we walked in last night. With my six three height, her head barely grazes my chest. My lips twitch just thinking about it. Her long dark hair is swept up in a ponytail and black sunglasses rest on her head. I think the part that gets me the most is her cropped black t-shirt, with a red rose on it that reads Seek No Approval. I glance up and my gaze collides with her coffee-brown eyes. She smiles and waves her hand at her side. My eyes eat up the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her full bottom lip dips under her teeth. Damn, this girl.

  It’s almost painful to take my eyes off her, but I need my head in the race. So many things are riding on how well I do and where I place. I need to get to Cali in order to advance to Colorado. We may be thinking too far ahead, but I know Dean already booked us a house outside of San Diego. If anything, that should be my motivation. I take all the feelings Scarlet is stirring inside me and channel them to fuel my adrenaline.

  We make our way to the start gate and get ready to race. Everything in my blood hums along with the bike’s engine; I let my mind zone out and focus on the line, the path I want to ride. Like a bull in the ring, my gaze catches on the black and white checkered flag. I take off, riding fast, listening to the beautiful sound of my two-stroke engine. Braap! “We Own It” by 2 Chains and Wiz Khalifa plays in the background while I soar over the double jump and land a Can-Can. The crowd eats it up, and before long, I’m leading. My body is light and every movement I make feels effortless. I can picture the win in my mind and push myself to keep going.