Until You (Fall Away Series)(79)



I’d done it again.

Pushed her away. Hurt her.

And now her wall was up, just like it had been the past three years.

Shit.

With my father, I had to be guarded. I had to stand alone, strong. It became too hard after that horrible summer to act one way with people I didn’t trust and another way with people I held close, so I stayed distant as a rule.

And then after a while, I didn’t have a one goddamn clue how to be any other way.

I watched her climb out of the car, turning her back and keep whatever she wanted to say inside.

We were more alike than she thought.

Turning down the radio, I hopped out of the car and walked around to the front to talk to my opponent, Bran Davidson, and Zack.

Tate had walked off, and I shifted my eyes, scanning the crowd to see where she stood.

Son of a bitch.

Ben stood off to the side, and she went straight for him.

Something bitter swirled in my stomach, and I didn’t even feel the chill in the night air.

I shook my head, pissed off, and looked back to the two men who were talking to me.

“The odds are in my favor, man,” Bran teased and knocked me on the arm.

I tried not to let my decaying mood seep out in my tone. Bran was a good guy, and we were friends.

“Yeah, great,” I mumbled. “That means my win will pay off big.”

“I have a Camaro,” he pointed out like I was too stupid to realize what he was driving.

“A nearly thirty year old Camaro,” I specified, stealing glances at Tate and Ben.

They hadn’t gotten physically close. They weren’t even facing each other.

But she was smiling.

He was making her laugh, and my eyes narrowed on her like she needed a big, fat reminder of whose mouth had been on her less than an hour ago.

Tate and I were both wearing black hoodies, but while she had her hands stuffed into her front pocket to keep warm, I was sweating and ready to tear mine off.

Just calm down.

Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe they were just talking, or maybe they weren’t.

What the f*ck did I care?

I wasn’t losing sleep over what may or may not be going through her head.

To hell with it.

“Clear the track!” Zack shouted, and I headed to my car without looking at anyone.

Tuning my iPod to Godsmack’s I Stand Alone—poetic, I thought—I revved my engine and let the noise of everyone around me drown out the ache in my chest.

My head back, I closed my eyes and let the music take control of my brain.

The lyrics stole made me feel strong again.

The rhythm took away my father’s voice.

Everything disappeared.

Until I opened my eyes and immediately let out a groan.

Shit.

Piper.

She stood in front of my car, twisting ever so slightly, showing off her body in her short skirt and thin, dark blue tank top.

The crowd cheered, and it hit me that she was the starter, sending us on our way.

Piper wasn’t a chore to look at, and she knew it.

She also knew that we were done, but that didn’t stop her from cutting into my line of sight every chance she got.

She smiled and headed to my side of the car, while I tried to hide my annoyed look.

Leaning just inside my open window, she tsked like I had something to learn. “When you finish with that blonde, you know where to find me.”

My bemused gaze stayed forward, off Piper. “If I finish with her, that is.”

“You will.” Her voice was playful and cocky. “Good girls taste like shit after a while.”

I grinned, actually amused. If she only knew…

I couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of Tate.

Looking softly into her light brown eyes, I tipped her chin up with my finger. “Don’t hold your breath, Piper.” And I dropped my hand, turning my eyes back to the track ahead. “Now get off my car and send us.”

“Ahh!” she screamed, her growl scraping my ear drums as I jerked my head to the side.

Piper’s body flailed backwards, and that’s when I noticed Tate, yanking Piper by her long hair away from the car.

What. The. Hell?

“Tate,” I warned, climbing out of the car.

She shoved Piper ahead of her, and I watched wide-eyed as Tate just stood there, staring Piper down and clenching her fists.

Her breaths were long and deep. Not nervous.

Douglas, Penelope's Books