Life In The Fast Lane •JB•

13

Thursday

Camilla

"C'mon Justin but you promised!" I stomped my foot in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stop being annoying, I was drunk so whatever I said doesn't count," he scoffed, grabbing at the keys of his car that sat on the counter top.

"But you shook on it!" I reached for his hand trying to recreate what we had done a couple of nights ago, but his hand was limp and swung all over the place. He looked at me uninterested which made throw his hand away.

He believes he didn't agree with me racing. I know he was drunk that night but he promised he would let me race if I went with him on Thursday. It was only a few hours until Justin's race, and he still wanted me to come with him. I was beyond frustrated at this point and didn't want anything to do with him.

"You know what? I'll just text Mark myself." I huffed, dramatically pulling my phone up to my face, searching through my contacts.

"Fuck! Fine Camilla, I'll organize a race for you. Just don't come running to me if you get shot at or something," He slyly chuckled, quickly pulling out his own phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hey Mark... Yeah I want to race on Friday, well not actually me... I will be there though... Yeah okay, that's cool... Catchya'." He ended the conversation to stare deadly into my eyes. "You've got your race, you happy now?" he flung his arms up in the air, probably sick of my shit.

I slowly nodded, showing a small smile trying to contain my excitement. He nodded in return, and waved me off. I watched as he wondered into the garage to play with his car. Sighing, I lead myself up to my bedroom to decide what I'll wear tonight.

Should I wear my Cuda clothes and remain hidden, or just fuck it and wear whatever? I'll figure something out.

I opened my now organized closet, searching through the small percentage of clothes I owned. I pulled out a beige hoodie and a pair of black denim shorts. Good enough. I paired my outfit with my boots and I was ready to go. I picked up a bandana that sat by my bed and wrapped it around my wrist just in case.

I stepped out into the hall way meeting a surprised Lewis and Brandon. They looked me up and down as I shrugged them off and continued to walk back down to Justin. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hood and leaned against the door frame of the garage.

Justin lifted his head from under the hood of his car and looked over me, before quickly scanning back over his engine. I slid up beside him, leaning on the side of his car trying to figure out whatever he was so intrigued by.

"Ew, you smell like a boy," he merely chuckled, not looking up from his position. I softly whacked his arm, shaking my head.

"You having sex in my house or what girl?" he playfully questioned, reassuring me afterwards that he was joking.

"Who do you think I am, Bieber?" I just rolled my eyes at his stupid behavior and tried to continue helping him with whatever he was looking at.

He adjusted a few parts before shutting the hood, racing into the house to get ready. After fifteen minutes or so, he came back to the garage wearing a fitted casual button up shirt that wrapped perfectly around his sculpted muscles, I couldn't help but mentally drool. His hair was messily slicked back displaying all his facial features. He caught me staring at him for a good second and curiously raised a brow.