[COMPLETED]
❝Of all the races I've started, loving him is the one I never want to finish.❞
In this re-imagination of my most popular story, Arielle Hawthorne is an illegal street racer, just like Zayn Malik. Zayn's egotistical, flirty, and a major p...
"My mama always used to tell me, 'If you can't find somethin' to live for, you best find somethin' to die for.'" — Tupac Shakur
A/N: i apologize for the late update. it's been a busy few weeks dealing with the death of my childhood cat as well as studying for exams, babysitting a new kitten and health problems of close friends. hope everyone understands and enjoys the chapter!
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A R I E L L E
It's been a few days since I last ran into Zayn at the bar where we met his little friend. His friend who most likely dragged him to the nearest surface to fuck his brains out silly.
Not that it's any of my business.
I should've done the same. I should've let him have his way with me in every position possible within the confines of that stark bathroom. He would've been too satisfied to fuck Sara and she would have had to went elsewhere for satisfaction . . . likely to Chase.
I haven't been losing sleep over the fact that Zayn is fucking other women.
Hell, he'll come to me for more.
I smirk at the thought, putting the key into my car door lock. Just as I'm twisting it, there's a noise behind me and I turn just as I hear my name being called.
The familiar tall light brown haired man approaches me, unsure if it's me. However, once he realizes that the person is, in fact me, he smiles and takes the final steps to close the distance between us.
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My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He looks really good today. Wearing a thick, black leather jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath and a pair of black jeans, he appears the epitome of sex. When his eyes meet mine, it reminds me of how tall he truly is—about a half foot more so than myself—which only attracts me more.
