Page 44 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

Dominic casually strode toward a cherry-red SF90 Stradale, and my chest fluttered when it purred to life, one sleek door gliding open. The hairs on my arms started to rise. My pulse was climbing, heat pooling over my cheeks as I allowed my gaze to roam over each individual car.

W16 Mistral. Bugatti. Black.

DB12 Volante. Aston Martin. Deep purple.

Ghost Series II. Rolls-Royce. Dark forest green.

Grancabrio. Maserati. Pearl white.

Two Lamborghinis. Two Audis. A sleek chrome motorcycle I couldn’t name. And a black Bugatti Divo that made my knees go weak.

“I’ll play you for it,” I blurted, failing to keep my voice level. “Thursday. If I win, I get the evening off. If you win, I promise not to plot against you using any sort of insect, rodent, or any other live animal for the remaining three weeks I’m here.”

His mouth ticked down, considering. “What game?”

I tried not to smile or show how giddy I was with sheer excitement. “Remember how you could never beat me atMario Kart?”

He stared back at me for a second.

Blinked.

“I call the Ferrari,” we both said at the same time.

Dominic smirked, turning his back to me as he dangled something in the air. “And the tie goes to the guy with the keys?—”

I snatched them right out of his hand and slipped into the driver’s seat before his uncaffeinated morning brain could comprehend what’d happened.

For safety reasons, we stopped to get him that cup of coffee on the way to the track.

16

Dear me/ journal/ god.

Have you heard of scurvy? Apparently it makes your gums bleed and a bunch of pirates died from it back in the day and when I asked mom she said you get it if you don’t eat your broccoli.

You know who NEVER eats their broccoli?AliceLoch Ness.

She’s going to die from scurvy by all her teeth falling out and blood gushing out of her gums.

What a mess.

Mom would probably make me clean it up.

Dominic knewa guy who knewtheguy, so the track was cleared and ready for our use in under an hour.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had this much adrenaline gushing through me. I was buzzing, my heart galloping, my gloved fingers locked over the steering wheel as we finished the first warm-up lap, our cars gliding through the track in perfect unison.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Do me a favor and don’t crash,”Dominic’s deep voice purred in my ear. “I just got her, and the wait for a new one is over a year.”

I spared his Lamborghini the barest glance. “Good thing I had the foresight to grab the keys from you, then.”

His low, I’m-about-to-make-you-eat-your-words chuckle crept through my helmet, sending a small tremor down my stomach. The cars slowed to a stop at the start line. I gave the steward the agreed-upon signal, and he nodded. Once for me, once for Dom.

The flag went up.

“Three,” Dom started quietly.