Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Ares
Wasn’t thrilled my brothers got to see you in it, though
.
I shook my head with a soft laugh, wondering if I’d hit my head on the bottom of the pool at some point because this conversation couldn’t possibly be real.
Me
I was working. Nobody was paying any attention to me.
Ares
Wrong. I sure as fuck was.
I bit my lip so hard it hurt. I was way out of my league with him, but I liked it.
Then another bubble popped up that sent heat streaking through my body.
Ares
What are you wearing today?
I laughed under my breath even as butterflies swirled in my stomach.
Me
I’ll only tell you if you tell me how you got my number.
Ares
Wasn’t hard. It’s on your invoices.
I rolled my eyes.
Me
Right. I should’ve known.
Ares
Now, answer my question.
Me
Just another athletic swimsuit.
Ares
There’s nothing “just” about other people staring at my girl in practically nothing.
Me
The only people here are my teammates and coach. No guys. Happy?
Ares
Not even close. Only if I was there with you.
My breath caught in my chest.
Ares
But that will have to do for now.
The coach blew her whistle, signaling for us to go get changed and head to breakfast. I sent a quick text back that I had to go, and he replied that we’d talk later. My heart skipped a beat, but I told myself that even if this was what I might have wanted, I should end it. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by a guy right now.
But when the texts continued to come in over the next two weeks, I kept answering. They started easy, with a little teasing and a cute cockiness that made me smile. But as time went by, and we got to know each other a little better, our conversations became flirtier and more intimate.
He sounded more possessive, which probably should have made me bristle and cut things off. Instead, it made my skin tingle and long to hear him whisper those things to me in person while his hands explored my body.
The day before camp ended, he told me he wanted to see me the day after I got home.
Me
I’m not sure that’s a great idea.
Ares
It’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea. Dinner. Night after tomorrow.
My body felt too hot, every inch of skin tingling as though he was right here watching me.
Me
You’re very sure of yourself.
Ares
I’m sure about you. I’ll pick you up at seven.
Me
Just dinner. Nothing else.
His answer was cocky and made my toes curl.
Ares
Whatever you need to tell yourself, baby. I’ll see you then.
I dropped the phone onto my towel and buried my face in my hands, breathing hard. It looked like my fantasy about dating him was coming true. And I probably shouldn’t be so happy about it, but there was no denying that I was.
3
TYRE
Ileaned back in my chair, stretching until I felt a satisfying pop in my spine. The numbers on the laptop screen blurred for a moment before my eyes refocused, but I didn’t complain. This was my zone—the rhythmic heartbeat of the club’s underground racing network flowing through numbers and neatly stacked columns.
A dozen spreadsheets stretched across two monitors, each filled with carefully tracked bets, payout records, and detailed totals from race after race. Underground races might seem chaotic from the outside with their makeshift tracks built from old shipping yards, abandoned warehouses, or dirt-covered rally stages deep in the woods. But beneath the adrenaline-charged chaos was a finely tuned machine. Money moved with precision, bets placed with subtle signals, every transaction accounted for. Not in legal records, but in my private ledgers, where nothing went unnoticed.
Unlike the sleek, organized atmosphere of Kane’s professional venues, such as Redline Speedway, our underground circuits, such as Torque Ridge and Burnside Circuit, had a gritty edge. Barrel fires crackled alongside the tracks, roaring crowds pressed against chain-link fences, and racers pushed high-risk engines well past their limits. But the risk was meticulously managed behind the scenes.
I knew exactly who was betting, how much they wagered on any given night, and who walked away with full pockets or empty wallets. I understood the rhythm of the money, felt its pulse in a way few others could ever comprehend.
Except today, something wasn’t right.
I scrubbed a hand roughly over my jaw, trying to refocus my attention, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Cecily. The sweet, fiery-haired beauty had thrown my carefully constructed discipline into chaos. It had been nearly impossible to concentrate since the moment I saw her at the compound pool.
Her plain swimsuit shouldn’t have been sexy, but on her, it made me rock hard. Even now, I felt a pulse of heat tighten low in my groin at the memory of how she moved so gracefully, confident in a way that had nearly made me lose every shred of sanity.
“Get a fucking grip,” I muttered to myself, shaking off the distraction again.