Midnight

14

Everett

Fuck.

Jake was calling me again, reminding me I had extra practice today—despite only telling me about Tuesday and Wednesday.

I thought my car was fast, but hell this car Jake was loaning to me was way out of its league. It was a Lamborghini Aventador. Expensive as fuck.

I knew Jake had an uncountable amount of money from building his own empire in this dirty underground industry, but I didn't know he was that filthy rich. 

Gray and I were always the best racers when we competed. He was always right behind me, we'd win Jake both the first and second title.

I had no doubt in my ability, but something about how seriously Jake was preparing me to race this infamous new jackass was unnerving. Gray and I still had nothing on him, we didn't know his racing name—let alone his real identity—what he looked like, what he drove, the list went on.

Jake wouldn't spill a single fucking word about him to us, and I couldn't stand it. I especially couldn't stand Jake working me so late. It made me think of that dickweed Damon, and all of the times I caught him creeping around a very clueless Celestine.

As if I didn't have enough on my fucking plate. I caught his trashy little car around the dance studio, trailing behind Cel's car more times than I could count.

And to make matters worse, I lashed out on her last night. I just couldn't fucking handle my temper, could I? I couldn't forgive myself for that, I wouldn't. Ever. She seemed content as she rubbed her face against my chest as she slept, but she shouldn't like someone like me. I wasn't...good for her. My job was too dangerous, and I was too much of a dick to treat her right.

But, I knew deep down I couldn't bare the sight of Celestine with another man. They didn't know her the way I did.

Speaking of Cel, how were those assholes treating her?

I tucked my phone back into my pocket the second the call ended, rushing back to the lunch room. It wasn't that I didn't trust those two fuckheads, I was nervous they'd tell Celestine everything. I didn't need her to know how awful this racing business was, for her to think less of me for partaking in such a thing. Maybe she'd be horrified, scared by how dangerous it was. I was praying she wouldn't have to run into the wrong crowd tomorrow, without me there with her. The thought terrified me.

When I caught up to the table, Celestine's lips were scrunched into a pout, her grey eyes determined, a small frustrated blush rising on her freckled cheeks.

"Thank god!" Grayson exclaimed, collapsing over the table. "Everett, she won't stop prying! I tried my hardest to keep my mouth shut!"

She crossed her arms then, a small huff fleeing her nose.

She was so impatient.

I sat down next to her again, one leg on either side of the bench as I faced her. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her sudden anger turned into embarrassment. I watched her face turn red, but she quickly hid behind her wavy auburn hair.

It felt so soft this morning.

I tried to hide a small laugh that pried through my lips, I had such an effect on her and she made it so clear.

"She's a tough one," Asher added with a wicked grin. I shot him down immediately, scowling at him. I didn't fucking need him to tell me that. She was mine to know, not his.

"You should eat some more," I leaned close to her ear, my hand returning to the small of her back.

Her posture went straight and rigid against my touch, before she sighed, resting her pink cheekbone on the heel of her hand. I watched her slowly, reluctantly pick up the fork. I patted her back, good girl.