Falling for the Goddess

In Such a Rush to Settle Things?

As the command was issued, the roar of engines erupted, reverberating across the entire venue. The race cars shot out like arrows loosed from their bows one by one, speeding forward unrelentingly.

On the giant screen, the live footage showed Ethan Brown leading the pack. His hands gripped the steering wheel with calm precision, his focus unwavering.

Two cars closed in from behind, attempting to flank him on either side. Up ahead was a sharp turn—prime for a strategic block. The audience held their breath, the tension thick in the air.

It was Sara Hart's first time watching a live race. The electrifying atmosphere had her subconsciously clenching her fists, silently rooting for Ethan.

Approaching the tight curve, Ethan tapped the brakes lightly and spun the wheel in a calculated move. The tires screeched against the asphalt, sparks flying as his car's rear skimmed dangerously close to the barrier.

With a masterful drift, he overtook both cars in the blink of an eye, leaving them in the dust.

The audience erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.

Ethan didn't ease up. With his foot firmly on the accelerator, his car hurtled down the track, gaining more distance from the competition.

The race's outcome was clear.

Yet Ethan showed no signs of complacency. His car sped forward relentlessly, wheels spinning faster with each passing second.

When he crossed the finish line, the crowd roared in unison. Sara cheered along with everyone else, genuinely thrilled for Ethan's win. A quote from a movie flashed through her mind: "Life is like a high-speed race. You either push forward or step off the track."

On the podium, Ethan was back to his usual carefree self, his posture relaxed and his chin tilted slightly upward. His hair ruffled in the breeze, sunlight casting a golden glow over him. He stood there, dazzling and magnetic, basking in the crowd's adoration.

After the race, fans swarmed him for autographs. Ethan, momentarily held up, held up his phone to the cameras and quickly sent a message.

Sara's phone buzzed.

[Wait for me at the exit.]

She waited nearly thirty minutes before Ethan finally emerged. He had swapped his racing suit for a black T-shirt and donned a baseball cap that partially obscured his striking features.

When he spotted her, a grin spread across his face. His tone was playful, like a puppy seeking praise. "So? How'd I do?"

Sara smiled softly. "Impressive."

After a moment, she added, "And really cool."

Though she'd never been into racing before, watching Ethan compete was invigorating. It stirred a strange, infectious sense of excitement in her.

Ethan's grin widened, his eyes twinkling like starlight. "Of course! Who do you think I am?"

He casually slung an arm around her shoulders, launching into an animated recount of his triumph.

Sara tilted her head, glancing at his hand before raising a brow at him.

Ethan immediately retracted his arm, looking sheepish. "Okay, okay, I got carried away."

He quickly changed the subject. "It's almost dinner time. Let's grab something to eat?"

Sara nodded. "Sure. My treat."

She figured she might as well repay the two favors she owed him.

Ethan was more than happy to oblige.

Sara texted Adrian Blake to tell him she wouldn't be home for dinner. He was likely busy at work anyway.

"What do you feel like eating?" she asked Ethan.

"Anything?"

"Anything," she confirmed. "Your choice."

Ethan smirked. "Aren't you afraid I'll bankrupt you?"

Sara tilted her head thoughtfully. "I don't think anything you order could actually do that."

Ethan raised a brow. "Alright then, I won't hold back."

He picked a Vietnamese-French fusion restaurant for dinner. The place had a tropical industrial vibe, complete with a garden pond, lush greenery, and a small fountain, evoking the feeling of being in a rainforest.

"First time here?" Ethan asked as they settled into their seats.

Sara nodded, taking in the unique ambiance. "Yeah. It's lovely. How did you find this place?"

Ethan leaned back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. "A friend mentioned it once. Thought I'd give it a try."

They ordered several dishes: the signature steak, lemongrass chicken avocado salad, Vietnamese shrimp mango rolls, carrot-orange bisque, black truffle cream pasta, and a strawberry-red velvet cake for dessert.

When the food arrived, the presentation was exquisite, and the aroma tantalizing.

Ethan picked up his knife and fork, gracefully cutting his steak. He pushed a plate toward Sara.

She smiled. "No need. I can do it myself."

Ignoring her protest, Ethan swapped plates with her and cut her steak into neat pieces. "Every gentleman should know how to take care of a lady."

Sara chuckled, allowing him this small indulgence.

Throughout dinner, Ethan shared stories of his racing adventures abroad, giving Sara a glimpse into a world she'd never imagined.

"Don't you ever feel scared?" she asked, her curiosity finally getting better.

For a moment, Ethan's playful demeanor shifted. His lips curved into a confident smirk, his voice hinting at arrogance. "When I'm behind the wheel, fear doesn't exist. I own the road."

After a beat, he scratched his head sheepishly. "Does that sound too cheesy?"

Sara laughed, her smile warm. "Not at all. It's... cool."

After dinner, Sara went to the counter to pay, only to be told the bill had already been settled.

She turned to Ethan with a frown. "We agreed it was my treat."

Ethan shrugged, unbothered. "What kind of man lets a lady pay?"

"But I owed you for helping me before," she insisted.

Ethan glanced at her, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. "You're really in a hurry to settle things, huh? Afraid of owing me too much?"

Sara opened her mouth to respond but faltered. "It's not that..."

"I'll consider us even, then," Ethan said lightly as he walked toward the door. "Happy now?"

"It's not the same..." Sara muttered under her breath, still feeling uneasy.

Outside, Ethan opened his car door and turned back to her. "Need a ride?"

Sara hesitated before nodding. "Can you drop me off at the café near campus? My friend left something for me."

As she climbed into the car, Sara resolved to repay him in another way—perhaps a small gift or a meal next time.

This time, Ethan's driving didn't faze her. When they reached the café, she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him.

"Thanks again," she said sincerely.

Ethan waved dismissively. "Stop. We're friends now, aren't we? No need to be so formal."

Sara smiled helplessly. "Alright. But if you ever need help with something, let me know."

Ethan leaned closer, his tone playful. "Anything?"

Sara leaned back instinctively, opening the car door. "As long as it's within my abilities."

Ethan watched her with a lazy grin. "Noted."