Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(50)

Beth follows and stands a foot from me. “Noah and I talk,” she says.

Silence.

“You and I were friends before, and we can be friends again.”

More silence.

“I miss you.”

And she went too far. I turn to the jock. “What type of work are we talking?” I’m desperate for additional sources of income and maybe he can pay.

Logan moves his head in a who-knows fashion. “It runs, but makes strange noises when it hits forty. I’d like it to not explode on the freeway and for it to run faster.”

“Can you pay?”

“Yes.”

Beth knew I could help. “Bring the car in sometime. Without her.”

He jerks his thumb behind him. “I got it out in the parking lot.”

It. As if the car means nothing. I remind myself he can pay. “Slide her in.”

Logan assesses Beth in a way that says he’s put up with her antics before. “Can I leave you for two seconds without you starting a world war?”

“I used to like you,” she says to Logan.

He leaves and Beth stays. Why did she return? To screw with me? To rub it in that she’s happy? I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She touches the pink ribbons on her wrist that that ass**le Ryan gave her. He makes her happy. I hate the guy.

“So are you into her?” Beth asks.

“Does your uncle know you’re here?” I push the button to open the bay and then busy myself with some wrenches. Rachel is the opposite of Beth with her brilliant smile and joyous laughter. A beam of light. Even when I was into her, Beth was nothing but darkness.

“Yes,” she answers immediately.

A muffled humph leaves my throat because I don’t buy that.

“Fine. No, he doesn’t. And before you ask, Ryan does.”

I move onto the screwdrivers. “When did you become a dog on a leash?”

“Fuck you,” she growls then sighs. “I’m not. Ryan knows I miss you and he knows I love him. He’s okay with you and me being friends.”

Yeah. Right. I’m sure he prefers not to be the prick who said no, so he’s depending on me to tell her to go. At least the ass**le called that move correctly. I turn my head to the sound of an engine rumbling and briefly smile when I see a red ’57 Chevy roll into the bay.

Beth walks up beside me. “I knew you’d like her.”

Her. Because Beth knows I love cars. In fact, she knows too much about me. Beth is like a bad trip. She always has been, and I don’t want to be on a ride with her anymore. “Go.”

“No. Not until we’re friends again.”

Logan cuts the engine, gets out and pops the hood. “What do you think?” he asks.

I think I could get a hard-on with a car like this. “This car was made to race.”

Logan snaps to attention. “You think you could get the car to go fast?”

I pause while assessing the kid. It was there in his voice and still present in the expectant way he holds his body. Speed. He craves it. Wants it. Maybe the jock’s not so bad. “Are you interested in keeping her street legal?”

“More interested in speed. Can you hook me up with a race once this is done?”

I place both of my hands on the car and lean over to inspect the engine. It’s not the original, which is good; otherwise, I’d hate doing anything to her. “If you’re looking for fast driving there’s a dragway in the southwestern part of the county. It opens next week.”

“Do you race there?” he asks.

“Yes.” And I plan on spending a lot of time there over the next six weeks.

“Isaiah.” Beth attempts to step in between us, but Logan angles himself so that she can’t. “That’s not why I brought him here.”

An insane glint strikes the guy’s eyes and all of a sudden, I feel a connection to him. A twitch of his lips shows he might be my kind of crazy. “How fast do the cars there go?”

“Some guys hit speeds of 120 mph in an eighth mile.”

“No!” Beth stomps her foot. “No. I promised Ryan nothing crazy would happen. Logan, this is not why I brought you here.”

“Have you hit those speeds?” He swats his hand at Beth as if she’s a fly, earning my respect. Most guys would be terrified of having their balls ripped off and handed to them for dismissing Beth like that.

“Not driving my car, I haven’t,” I answer honestly. But I hope to with Rachel’s car, and with mine, after a few modifications. “Speed can be bought. Just depends on how much you want to spend.”

Logan offers his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“Isaiah,” I say as we shake.

“Shit,” mumbles Beth.

Chapter 28

Rachel

MY ROOM IS PURPLE. THE walls, the throw rug over the white carpet, my comforter, my pillows, the floor-to-ceiling curtains—purple. Lavender really, but that’s just another way to say the word purple. I hate purple, but Mom doesn’t like green.

I sit in the middle of my four-poster bed and recount the money. Five hundred dollars. That’s what I have. Several pieces of jewelry rest on the pillow beside me. Those four pieces are the only ones I don’t think Mom would notice missing.

If my gowns weren’t in Mom’s closet, I could try selling those. While my mother can’t scrape up the ability to see who I am on the inside, she watches the outside like a hawk.