As we approach the end, Benny pulls farther ahead, but it's not over yet. Micha has a thing for flipping the car around, without decreasing the acceleration. It's scary as hell, but it works every time. Besides with the longer body of Benny's GTO it doesn't have quite the turning power.
We reach the end and I should probably be nervous. The road cuts off into a steep, rocky hill and the space to turn around is narrow, but I've never gotten scared, not even now. I guess I can't change what's in my blood.
The GTO begins to slant sideways as Benny turns it. Micha veers to the side to get around him and shoots for the open gap between the car and the trees. I grab the handle above my head, the brakes squeal, and I brace my feet up on the dashboard. It's like being on a merry-go-round on crack. Everything spins - the trees, the sky, Micha. For a second, I shut my eyes and it feels like I'm flying. It takes me back to the night on the bridge. She said she could fly.
The car straightens out and Micha floors the gas pedal. Like I predicted, Benny is having a harder time lining back up. By the time we're speeding up the road again, he's a small distance behind us. Micha punches the gas and shifts the car into a higher gear.
The long front end of the GTO materializes through my window and Micha floors it, shooting me a look that lets me know I can tell him to slow down if I want.
I don't.
People flee to the side, panicking at our dangerous speed as we rip through the finish line. It isn't clear who the winner is or who's going to be able to get their car to stop in time, before crushing into The Hitch. Brakes shriek and dust swamps the windows. My body is thrown forward with the car's abrupt halt and I smack my head on the dashboard.
Micha works to regain control of the wheel and straightens the car as it skids to a stop. Everything settles and the dust slowly clears. Micha and I stare out the windshield, breathing loudly, our eyes as wide as golf balls. The front bumper of the Chevelle is a sliver away from a very large tree.
"Holy shit," Micha whispers and looks at me, his eyes bulging. "Are you okay?"
I lower my hand from the dashboard, my chest heaving with my breaths. Rubbing the bump on my head, I turn in my seat toward Micha. There is an eerie calm inside me and one of my worst fears becomes a reality. I'm an adrenaline junkie. Plain and simple, but I think it's how I've been all along. I just never admitted.
I'm no longer in control.
As I incline toward Micha, my heart flutters to life in my chest. My eyes shut and my lips brush his, gently tasting him. It feeds my hunger vaguely and I edge back, letting my eyes open. Micha is looking at me, his eyes pools of blue like the deep spots of the ocean hidden from the world. His hand comes up behind my head and he entices my lips back to his.
Something snaps inside me, like a rubber band. With one swift movement, and the aid of my own willingness, Micha lifts me over the console and I straddle his lap, looping my arms around his neck. His hands burrow into my thighs and slip under my skirt onto my bare skin. My breath falters at the intimacy of his touch. No one has ever touched me like this before, without me running away. Usually, being this close to someone sends me into a room packed with self-doubt, panic, distrust, and unfamiliarity.
My legs tense and Micha leans back. "Stay here, baby," he whispers, like he can read my thoughts. "Trust me, okay? Don't run."
He waits for me to nod and then crashes his lips into mine, keeping his hands under my skirt. I arch my body into him, pressing my chest against his, and my ni**les tingle. His tongue sensually plays with mine, tracing every spot on my mouth and my lips. My body starts to fill with a secret longing.
Micha moves his mouth away from mine and my legs tremble in objection. He sucks a path of kisses down my jawline, moving to my neck and residing on my chest right above where my breast curves out of the top of my shirt. It sends a shock through my body and my legs uncontrollably tighten around him, my knees pressing into his sides.
He lets out a slow, deep groan and his hand slides higher into my skirt as he guides me closer. I can feel him pressing in between my legs and it scares the shit out of me, but not enough to make me stop. It's like all the sexual tension I ran away from has sprung free all at once. My fingers sneak under the bottom of his shirt and trace along the outline of his lean muscles. I don't know where to stop or how to put the line back up. My mind is racing and I clutch onto his shoulders needing my control back.
Someone bangs on the window. "Are you two having fun in there?"
I jump back and my cheeks start to heat at the sight of Ethan and Lila staring at us through the window. In his black tee and jeans, Ethan blends in with the night, but his dark, insinuating smile glows. Lila's eyes are magnified and her jaw is hanging open. Micha does nothing to help the situation. A lazy grin spreads across his face as he watches me through hooded eyes, looking very pleased with himself.
The adrenaline washes out of me and leaves a numb feeling in its place. I climb off his lap and straighten my skirt and hair before getting out of the car. I calmly walk around the back of the car and join Ethan and Lila.
"So who won the race?" I ask, smoothing the last of the wrinkles out of my skirt.
Ethan smirks at me. "Is that what you're really thinking about at the moment?"
I stare at him blankly. "What else would I be thinking about?"
Micha climbs out of the car, stretching his long legs. "We won, I'm pretty sure," he says, taking my hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. "Although, I'm betting there's an argument going on about it."
Ethan nods agreeably and takes a sip of his soda. "Yep, everyone who bet on you is insisting you've won and vice-versa with Benny."
Micha interlaces our fingers. "So the same old, same old."
"You know how these things go." Ethan pats Micha's shoulder sympathetically. "They're never going to come to a decision."
My hand is sweating in Micha's. He just cracked me open and my mind is racing with a billion thoughts. I can't do this with him. I can't crush him. I need to repaint the lines somehow.
"We should just leave," Micha says to me. "Let's not even give them the benefit of our argument."
"You want to drive out of here all suave?" I ask. "And make a grand exit?"
Micha smiles and squeezes my hand. "A grand statement."
"Which would be?"
"That we don't give a shit."
I let out a shaky breath and nod. "That sounds good to me."
"You want to meet up at the house?" he asks Ethan. "I'm sure we're going to have to do some tuning up on The Beast after what I just did."