Page 29 of Drive Me Wild (Owl Creek #2)

Z oe’s been gone for more than twenty minutes before I see her walk toward me a little unsteadily. She sits down, hands me back my wallet, and then eats her fries silently.

“Everything okay?”

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you were getting some ginger ale.”

“I got beer instead and already drank it.”

“Zoe? Can you please look at me?”

She tilts her head up with a smile, but it feels fake. There’s a wrench in my gut, and it’s tightening down on my belly.

“Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yup. When is your friend going to race?”

“He’s up next. Wanna head home after that?”

She scrunches her eyes at me, taking her time to respond. “Are you sure you want to do that? Don’t you have people you want to visit with?”

She slurring her words a little bit.

“Seems like that beer went straight to your head.”

“Two.”

“Two what?”

“I had two beers.”

“You slammed two beers in twenty minutes? Are you upset about the women I was with?”

“Caleb, I…who do you owe for Saturday night?”

“What?”

“The note. In your wallet. It fell out when I pulled out the money to pay for the fries and beer.”

I rub my hand over my face. She’s jealous, and it’s a silly misunderstanding. I wish I could show her that she has no reason to be. That she means more to me than all of the other women I’ve been with combined— and then some.

“It’s from Cody. He leaves notes on my truck when he comes into town for his groceries.”

She chews at her lip as she concentrates on my words.

“I was supposed to help him stack a couple of cords of wood.” I wipe away a few grains of salt at the edge of her mouth. “I bailed to be with you instead.”

She looks down at her hands and back up at me. Her gaze is intense and not at all relieved when I told her about the note.

“Why do you keep it?”

A chuckle erupts from my chest as the announcer tells us that Tommy is racing next.

How do I explain my sentimentality about someone I almost lost without sounding obsessed? How do I explain my connection to the person I’m the most tuned into, simply because we share identical DNA?

“I save all his notes.” I pick at one of the calluses on my hand. “I save everything from Cody. It’s a brother thing, I guess.”

“Oh.” I see her mentally chewing on my words. “That’s sweet. I don’t have any siblings, so I don’t know what that’s like.”

“It’s exasperating, and fun, and everything in between. There’s Tommy.”

I point to a cherry red Barracuda at the starting line.

I hear the engines rumbling, vibrating in my chest. I recall the feel of my grip on the steering wheel, the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I waited for the signal to start.

“Damn, that was a fun car to drive.”

The cars take off in a thunderous roar, wheels spinning and smoke emanating from the tarmac.

It’s thrilling to watch that much power and speed.

Tommy takes the first corner like a boss, and I feel relieved that he seems to have control despite the beer.

That shit could ruin his chances of ever doing anything with racing, and he doesn’t seem to care.

“How many times will he go around the track?”

“Twenty-five.”

“They look like they’re going to crash into each other!”

“That’s the thrill. You have to be constantly aware and tuned into your car, the road, and the other drivers.”

“Sounds a little like meditating.”

I catch her eyes again, which have softened up a bit. I think we’ve reconnected, and she’s no longer worried about Laura or the note. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We can leave after he’s finished because I don’t need to stick around here.

” Even though I feel the thrill of the race in my bones, I don’t want this life anymore.

I don’t want the parties, the hookups, the danger, the emptiness of it all.

“This isn’t my life anymore, Zoe. I brought you here because you wanted to see it.

But this is it. Adrenaline, noise, danger, smoke, the smell of rubber and fuel. ”

“Poetic.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all. There’s something beautiful about all this.” She sweeps her arm in the air. “Man against himself. Man against the machines of his own creation.”

“So, is this what happens when you drink too many beers? You get philosophical?”

She shrugs and tosses the french fry container away.

“When Tommy crosses the finish line, I’ll be ready to leave. Thanks for bringing me here. But I don’t think this is my scene.”

I pull her close and press a kiss on her temple. “It doesn’t need to be your scene.”