I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and knock on Derek’s door. I must look like a mess after cleaning my car in this heat. I’m sure the heavy make-out session with Coen didn’t help, either. I hear him yelling from inside,

“What did you forget assho—” He opens the door in a pair of shorts, still dripping wet from the shower. “Oh, hi Lexi. I thought you were Coen.”

“It’s all good. I’m hoping I can cash in that favor you owe me. I was wondering if you have a contact for the organizer of the race tonight?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek. Crap. I’m picking up Brea’s habit.

“Uh, yeah, Lex. You’re lookin’ at him. Why do you ask? What can I help you with? Do you need directions?” Derek looks puzzled.

“No, actually I was wondering if you could pair me against Coen.” I raise my eyebrows slowly and give him a nervous smile.

Derek laughs. “Are you serious, Lexi? He’ll smoke your ass in the Hellcat.” He stops laughing when he realizes by the blank look on my face now that I’m dead serious.

“I can give him a good run, Derek.”

“Average buy in is $500, Lexi. Can you do that?” He looks doubtful.

“How about $250? You know, since it’s my first race and all?” I ask.

He lets out a deep breath. “Coen will be pissed, but I’ll let you run, Lexi. But only this one time, okay? You want to race after that, you’ll have to pay the regular buy in, just like everyone else. And don’t tell anyone I let it slide. It’ll be bad for my rep.” He gives me a “don’t let me regret this” look. “I saw the way he was looking at you earlier, Lex. That’s the only reason I’m letting this happen. Just don’t…” He stops talking. It’s like he isn’t sure if he should say was he was about to or not, but then he continues. I can see the worry in his face. “Just don’t break his heart, Lexi. He may look like a badass on the outside, but inside, he has his heart under lock and key. If he gives you that key, know that you have something rare.”

Unsure of how to respond to that, I thank Derek and run back home to shower and get ready.

I’m sitting in my car, parked behind one of the empty warehouses along the quarter mile. I’ve put almost my entire inheritance into buying this car and making sure it’s something my dad would have been proud of. Now I’m about to find out if all the hard work has paid off. If I can at least keep up with Coen’s Hellcat, I’ll be happy.

Derek said he would send me a text once Coen is in position. I brace my hands on the steering wheel and push myself against the seat, taking in a deep breath. I relax my body. His car will most likely leave mine in the dust, but if I want to have any chance of not making myself look like a complete idiot, I need to stay relaxed and focused.

I reach down and scroll through the songs on my iPod. There’s nothing quite like the perfect song to get your blood pumping. I stop scrolling when I get to “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters. I don’t know if it’s the lyrics or the wicked drum beats, but this song has always given me the feeling of wanting to put the pedal to the floor and not look back.

As I sit here in my car, eyes closed, drumming the beat on my steering wheel and singing along, I start 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 though things seem to be moving really fast, maybe it was just what I need. The sooner I can move on and put Patrick in the past, the better.

Coen steps in closer to me, so close I can smell his cologne. He has one foot between mine. He slowly brings his hand up near my face, as if he wants to touch it, but lowers it again. I look up at him with a reassuring smile, silently telling him that it’s okay.

Brea breaks the silence. “Lex, love, I’m heading home before the cops show. I’ll chat with you tomorrow.” She kisses me on the cheek and leaves.

“Goodnight, Brea.” Coen says, and quickly turns his attention back to me. “So why the new attitude all of a sudden?” he asks, slowly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. He lets his fingertips gently trace my jaw line, and lifts my chin to look into his beautiful green eyes.