#Junkie (GearShark #1)(9)

I heard the familiar roar of Drew’s souped-up engine and glanced out the driver’s window. For one long second, his car pulled up right alongside mine, and we drove parallel to each other right down the center of the road.

Angry and frantic beeping pulled my gaze back, and I jolted in surprise.

“Fuck!” I yelled and pulled the wheel just in time to skirt around a car in a turning lane.

Even though I wasn’t in the same car as Drew and he’d pulled off to cut around it on the other side, I could still hear his laughter. I didn’t have to be with him to hear it anymore. I knew the sound as well as my own voice, and right now, I knew he was laughing his ass off.

We pulled back up side by side, and I held up my middle finger and plastered it to the glass.

Seconds later, he took the lead, and we drove like we were on a racetrack to the backroads that were hardly ever traveled. Once there, we tore up the hills and coasted down the valleys. There was this one hill I knew he was going for; he went for it every time.

It was steep—like a freaking dip right in the mountain.

Drew took that part like the devil was on his ass. Every single time, his Mustang got some air. Every single time, my stomach dropped just watching from behind.

Fucker was crazy as hell.

All the time he spent on his car, all the money… then he goes and practically jumps it on some curvy mountain back road in the dead of winter in Maryland.

He was asking for a messed-up bumper.

Or worse.

I loved it, though. There was a part of Drew that was so rebellious I admired it.

From a distance, of course. As in I used my brakes to take that dip in the road. No way in hell I was going to jack up my Mustang.

From my position on the road behind him, I watched the Fastback muscle up the hill. He didn’t touch the brake. Not even once. I hurried to keep up so I wouldn’t miss the show.

Drew crested and didn’t hesitate at all. He freaking nose-dived, once again not using his brake at all. Once at the top, I slowed way down and watched the show.

Seconds later, the car hit the dip.

He was going so fast, he got some air.

It’s not like he was thirty feet high, but it was enough that all four tires were off the asphalt.

My stomach clenched when he hit the ground, but the Mustang bounced back and the tires absorbed the shock. He powered up the next hill and slid around the corner, disappearing from sight.

“Crazy as f*ck.” I chuckled and followed behind (at a much less breakneck pace).

He was parked on the wide shoulder just around the bend, leaning against the side of his car like he’d been waiting there for hours instead of a mere minute.

“If they gave out tickets for driving like a turtle, you’d have gotten one.” The lazy tone in his voice matched his stance.

“Fuck you.” I laughed and slammed the door.

“You see that air? That might have been the most I’ve gotten yet.” He shoved off the side and mimicked with his arms the way he imagined the car looked.

He was wearing a pair of boot-cut black jeans, black boots, and his black leather jacket. Beneath it was a plain white hoodie-style shirt, the hood pulled out and draped over the collar of his jacket.

“Yeah, it was pretty sweet.” I agreed and leaned against the back end of my car, tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

“You shoulda dragged tonight,” Drew said, moving over to stand beside me. “The way you were driving back there on the road, it was hellacious.”

“Hellacious?” I squinted at him.

“Yeah. Like bodacious but way more badass… hellacious.”

I chuckled. “You were pretty hellacious yourself.” I tried out the word on my tongue. I liked it. “First time I’ve seen that Camaro around the track. You recognize the driver?”

He moved his head once. “No, the windows were too tinted to really make out his face. I only saw his outline really.”

“Kinda odd,” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest. It was cold as shit out here.

“Why’s that?” Drew frowned.

I lifted one shoulder. “The way he just kinda appeared at the track. I kinda got the impression he was wanting to race you. Like you said. Couldn’t really see his face… but I felt him watching you.”

Drew lifted his eyebrows in suggestion, his voice turning sly. “Maybe it was a woman.”

My stomach did this weird flip that made me feel sick all of a sudden. I ignored it and rolled my eyes. “You almost got beat by a girl, then.”

“Shit, I had that drag in my back pocket the entire time.”

I made a sound that could have been an agreement or dismissal. I opened his driver’s door and reached in to pop the hood.

“Give me some light,” I instructed as I propped it up and shoved the sleeves of the Varsity coat I was wearing out of my way.

“How’d you know?” Drew asked, shining the bright light from his flashlight app down over the engine of his car.

I barked a laugh. “I know you, Drew. Every time you go all balls to the wall on the road and jump that dip, something gets knocked loose.”

“And this is why if I ever get to the big time, I’m taking you with me. Every driver needs a crew boss.” He mused and shined the light exactly where I reached.

I glanced up. “A crew boss?”