Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Thirty-six who use the lockers.” He nodded toward the windows. “There are overnight accommodations for out-of-town members who only pop by once or twice a year. And there are members who live in the area and just bring all of their gear with them.” He typed in a four-digit code—I assumed it was 6969—and pulled the handle, opening the door between us. “I have something for you.”
“You do?” I wasn’t going to turn down a present, but it seemed weird that he had one here, when we didn’t know I’d be coming along. When he emerged with a sheet of paper, my present hopes were dashed.
He smirked at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It’s a waiver.”
I scanned the paper with a frown. “Jerk. I thought you were giving me something.”
“Oh, I’ll give you something, if that’s what you—”
“Stop,” I cut him off and held up a hand. “I’m seeing a lot of references to ‘accidental injury, death or dismemberment’ here, and it’s not turning me on.”
“Don’t worry about any of that. It only applies if you’re accidentally injured, killed, or dismembered,” he assured me with morbid good cheer. “Just sign the thing, and then, we can go really fast.”
The man might be fifty, but he was five if he was a day. “After this are we going to go look at a fire truck, too?”
“That’s a thought. I could buy one of them, see how it handles out here…” He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“Forget I mentioned it. Please.” I sighed and signed the paper against the door of the locker. “If you dismember me, I dismember you, got it?”
“I promise, there will be no loss of life or limb on this drive,” he vowed solemnly. He took a pastel purple helmet from the locker and handed it to me. “It was the prettiest one I could find.”
I shoved the waiver at him and held up the helmet. Across the curve of the lilac plastic, pink Swarovski crystals spelled out “Sophie” in graceful cursive loops. “You did have a present for me!”
“I did. It’s been here for…oh, six months now? I knew I’d get you out here eventually.” He glanced at the top of my head. “Although, it will muss your hair somewhat.”
“With this amount of hairspray in it?” I shook my head, and it all swayed as one piece. “It’ll bounce right back.”
We rejoined the car out on the track. It was a short walk from the club lounge to the starting line, but most of it was through a heated walkway. Outside, it was super cold, but for some reason, I was sweating buckets.
Okay, I knew the reason. While Neil had never once died doing this, I was convinced this would be the time, and he would take me with him. Logically, I knew he was a good driver. I’d ridden in cars with him loads of times, and he was always confident and hyper-focused. But this seemed so risky.
The engine was running, and I pulled on my helmet while Neil exchanged some good-natured banter with one of the technicians. My hands were shaking as I buckled up.
Neil got in, most of his face obscured by his helmet. “You look terrified.”
Our voices were coming across all muffled. I scowled at him. “You think?”
“You’re going to love it, you’ll see,” he tried to assure me. With a tilt of his head, he added, “Unless you’re too afraid.”
“Oh—” I was going to say, ‘Oh, please, I’m not afraid,’ but I wouldn’t let him goad me. “Just drive.”
We had to wait for the go-ahead from the track guys, and I was expecting Neil to just slowly roll off the line, but the engine picked up right away, and with a little wiggle against the alignment of the track, we were off.
“Holy shit!” I gripped the front of my seat on either side of my squeezed together thighs. Neil always obnoxiously accelerated, no matter which car he was driving, but it was usually a teeny speed burst, followed by a swift return to reality and traffic laws. Neither of those things applied here, so we kept going, the car’s engine noises rising from a low, hollow gust to a high, vibrating whine.
I couldn’t turn my head, because it was pinned to the back of my seat by the laws of physics, but I did manage a sideways glance at Neil. His eyes were slightly squinted in concentration, but they sparkled with unchecked glee. His fingers flexed on the wheel to hit the gear paddles, downshifting us into the first turn.
“Oh!” My stomach did a little flutter as we slid around the curve. The car moved like a freaking snake, all slithery and smooth. We took another twist and hit the start of a straightaway, and Neil really gunned it.
“What the fuck!” I panted. “How fast are we going?”