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“You did. How did you come to be a little speed demon?”

“I’ve been riding Go Karts for as long as I can remember. Dad used to take us all the time. At first, I’d sit in his lap because my little legs couldn’t reach the pedals, but Dad always let me steer. Eventually, I was tall enough to drive them by myself, and the older I got, the faster I went. I didn’t know this place was here.”

“Is this something you still do often?”

“Gosh, no. Not for a couple of years. The last time was when we went back home for Thanksgiving in my sophomore year. There’s a fair every fall. Dad and River raced me. They lost too. The three of you have something in common.”

“I’m glad I picked this place then. I wanted to do something low-key without the pressure of trying to dress up or impress each other. But I guess it kind of failed.”

“It failed?”

“I’m totally impressed with you. And now you raised the bar so far up, how will I ever be able to impress you?”

“No worries there, Logan. You already did. This is officially the best date I’ve ever had.”

“We just started.”

He reaches around me, runs his fingers through my hair—the tips graze the back of my neck and send a trail of shivers down my spine. My skin rises in goosebumps and I’m glad the long sleeves hide it.

My confidence falls. I can only imagine what my post-helmet, wind, and bad ponytail hair looks like. I reach over to comb my hair with my fingers, but Logan beats me to it.

His hand is gentle as he combs his fingers through my hair and places the locks around my shoulders, his eyes watching me the entire time. My eyes want to drift closed. I think a little moan escapes my lips. His smile confirms it.

“I don’t look like Medusa anymore?”

“You couldn’t look like Medusa if you tried.”

“You haven’t seen my bedhead first thing in the morning.”

“I’d like to.”

And right on cue, my face turns red. The burn in my cheeks raises the temperature a few degrees.

His smile widens.

“I love to make you blush.”

A finger traces the edge of my sweater where it meets my clavicle.

“I wonder how far down the pink goes.”

It feels like his words have a direct connection to whatever part of my body is responsible for flushing because the heat on my face spreads down into my chest. I press the cold water bottle to one cheek and then the other. Maybe it’s hot flashes.

Can a twenty-one-year-old have hot flashes?

“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

He laughs and takes my hand again.

“Come on. Let's see what else you can beat me at.”

Chapter Ten

HavingSkye’s body against mine is the sweetest of tortures. She can’t stop giggling, and her ass is shaking and rubbing me in all the right places.

I want to drag her into the trees that line the park and have my way with her. Vermont doesn’t have any laws against public nudity, after all, so we can’t get a 311 for indecent exposure, but we could get a 2601 for lewd and lascivious conduct. It would definitely be worth the three-hundred-dollar fine, but not the up to five years’ stay in jail. And I don’t think Skye would be up to it just yet. I’m so hard, it hurts.

Down, boy.He does not go down. My dick is a terrible listener.