In Your Dreams

Chapter Three

The low rumble of engines echoed through the multi-level parking garage, reverberating off the concrete walls as we ascended the ramp. Every few feet, a different car sat on display—sleek, polished machines that drew small crowds of admirers, their hoods propped open like trophies. Neon lights pulsed from underneath the modded bodies, casting a soft glow across the garage floor, while muffled bass thumped from car stereos, blending with the hum of voices and the occasional rev of an engine.

"Welcome to the show," Sam grinned, tossing me a glance over her shoulder. "Feels like every meet gets bigger, huh?"

I nodded, taking in the scene. It was a far cry from the frat party's suffocating atmosphere—here, the energy was different. Free. Electric. Yet I couldn't help but feel that same tightening in my chest as my eyes scanned the crowd.

He had to be here. Somewhere.

"Yo! Over here!"

Sam's head snapped toward the voice, and her face broke into a wide smile. Fernando, her youngest brother, leaned casually against his white GTR, arms crossed and a cocky grin plastered on his face. His car gleamed under the overhead lights, its body spotless, as if it had just rolled off the assembly line. Fernando was always the flashy one, and tonight was no exception.

"There he is," Sam said with a laugh, leading me toward him. "Try to act impressed, Ev. He lives for it."

I smiled, shaking my head as we approached. Fernando was only a year younger than us, but he carried himself with the swagger of someone who thought he owned the place. His deep brown eyes gleamed with mischief as he straightened up, arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite sister," Fernando teased, pulling Sam into a one-armed hug before turning his attention to me. "And Evelyn. Looking good tonight."

I rolled my eyes, offering him a half-smile. "Still driving the same old car, huh?"

"Old? This beauty is a classic," Fernando shot back, patting the hood of his GTR as if it were a beloved pet. "You just don't appreciate fine craftsmanship."

"Or overpriced mods," I quipped, earning a laugh from Sam.

"Hey, can't blame a guy for wanting to stand out," Fernando said with a wink. His eyes flickered over me once more before he nodded toward the upper level. "Oscar, Rudy and Anthony are up top. They're waiting on us."

"Lead the way, little brother," Sam grinned, playfully pushing him forward. "Let's go see what Oscar's been working on."

As we started up the ramp to the upper level, the noise from the meet seemed to intensify. Laughter, loud conversations, and the unmistakable roar of revving engines filled the air. The smell of exhaust and burnt rubber lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of cologne and street food being sold from a vendor truck near the entrance.

My eyes darted from car to car, face to face, heart thumping in my chest as I scanned the crowd. Every few steps, I thought I saw him—just a glimpse of dark hair or the silhouette of someone tall—but each time, it was someone else. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I swallowed back the frustration that bubbled up with each false sighting.

Just focus, Evelyn, I told myself. Act normal.

We reached the top of the garage, where a row of cars had gathered around the edges, each one with its own group of admirers. Oscar, the eldest of Sam's brothers, stood beside his burnt-orange Honda Civic, arms crossed as he chatted with a few guys. His face lit up when he saw us approach, and he gave Sam a warm hug before nodding in my direction.

"Evelyn," he greeted, his deep voice carrying over the noise. "You're still putting up with Fernando, I see."

"Barely," I joked, giving him a smile. Oscar had always been the quiet one, but he had a presence that commanded respect, even without trying. He glanced toward Fernando, who was already deep in conversation with a group of guys admiring his car, and chuckled.