Page 31 of Kiss & Collide (Racing Hearts #2)

C hase hurtled through a tricky turn complex, trying his best to clear his head and focus on the track in front of him.

But his thoughts kept returning to that fight with Violet the night before, over and over again.

Was that what that even was? Had he and Violet just had a fight?

Could you have a fight with someone you weren’t even technically dating?

He’d woken up mad today and honestly, he still was.

Frustration welled up in his chest with nowhere to go but out on the track.

Generally it was bad to let anything from the rest of your life get into your head during a race, but maybe the anger was working for him today.

He’d been driving aggressively from the instant the lights had gone out and was sitting in eleventh place as a result, which was a minor miracle for Pinnacle.

He couldn’t even bring himself to think about Madison watching with his family in the garage.

So he did what he did best: drove. He’d come into today expecting the usual fight for his life, but Rabia was beginning to tame the unpredictability that had plagued this car when he’d first climbed into it.

Each update seemed small on its own, but they all came together out on the track. He could feel the balance coming back.

“Okay, Chase,” Emil said into his ear. “We want you to push now.”

Time for some really aggressive driving, which was fine. Today he felt like he had nothing but aggression, and for once, the car was responding to it. “You got it.”

He flipped a switch, turned a rotary, and adjusted his brake balance as he headed for Turn One. He peeled another half a second off Elian’s time up ahead. He was getting ready to launch it through Turn Fifteen again when Emil crackled in his ear.

“Box, box. Do the opposite of Elian.”

Shit. That meant they were in serious contention to take tenth place, and Emil thought they might be able to undercut Elian if they did their pit stop now.

He kept his eyes fixed on Elian’s gearbox, bracing for the tiniest twitch to give away Elian’s intention.

At the last possible second, Elian sped past the pit lane exit.

“Okay, boxing!” he shouted as he entered the pit lane, smashing the brakes when he hit the white line. He nosed into position and they had him up on the jacks in the space of a heartbeat. Then they dropped him and dumped it into gear.

Hell yes . That had to be just over two seconds stationary. He sped out of the pits.

“Push, push!” Emil barked as he banged his way through the gearbox. “It’s gonna be tight with traffic.”

He could do this … he could do this …

Chase glanced in his mirrors and spotted a car coming for him up the hill. Rolando Castenada swooped around his outside.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not getting me that easy.”

He managed to keep in Rolando’s slipstream for half a lap, but he couldn’t get around him.

Turn Eleven was approaching, a wild hairpin that led to the longest straight on the track.

That was his opening. He released the brakes and dove up the inside, forcing Rolando wide as they both fought to get the advantage down the straight.

But Chase’s new tires, now fully warmed up, won out, and halfway down the straight Rolando dropped back.

There was no time to enjoy it, though.

“Elian’s in the pit,” Emil said. “Push to the pit lane exit.”

Pushing through the tight Turn Twenty was going to be tough, and if this car was the same he’d been driving under Oscar, he wouldn’t stand a chance. But now he could feel the car grip the track as he powered through the turn.

As he barreled down the straight, he caught a glimpse of aqua blue off to his left—Elian, accelerating through the pit lane. He had to get to the next turn ahead of him, otherwise Elias would be perfectly set up to overtake him.

“Push, push, push!” Emil shouted.

“I’m pushing!” he shouted back, spinning the throttle.

He channeled all his simmering anger from that fight with Violet last night straight into his driving, practically screaming his frustration out loud as the roar of the engine built.

This was it—he could feel it. When he gave it the last bit of acceleration, the car responded.

Aqua blue receded in his mirrors. Elian, on cold tires, was unable to match his acceleration.

“That’s it!” Emil shouted. “Elian fell back. You are now P ten.”

P ten. Which meant points. Pinnacle hadn’t seen points in four seasons.

“Congratulations,” Emil said.

Chase smiled.

“Congratulate Rabia. It’s her car that got us here.”

Pinnacle had just had its best race finish in four years.

Half an hour after the race had ended, people were still lingering in the Pinnacle garage, celebrating.

Because Madison was there, there were media and photographers, too.

Which was the point of her, Chase supposed.

Media coverage. Just like Violet had said.

Violet.

Now that the race was over, there was no place for him to channel all this gnawing frustration, and he was feeling twitchy with it.

“You seen Violet?” he asked Tyler.

“Nope.”

Chase cast another glance around the garage, which was pointless because he knew she wasn’t here.

Madison was chatting with Rabia and his parents, all of them casually trying to ignore the photographers capturing every second of the interaction.

His parents had been surprisingly chill when he’d told them about the setup last night, and they’d been as welcoming and polite to her today as they were to everyone.

Tyler had immediately started up with the jokes about Chase needing a rent-a-girlfriend, and he’d probably keep it up for the rest of their lives. Fucking brothers.

“Why don’t you just go find her?” Tyler asked.

“Mom and Dad are here. And Madison.”

“Look at them. They’re fine.”

“But Madison is supposed to be my girlfriend.”

“She’s not , though,” Tyler said, raising his eyebrows. “Speaking of, if she’s not actually your girlfriend—”

“Don’t even think about it, Tyler,” he warned. Tyler might be young, but where women were concerned, he was … precocious. Chase had done his fair share of sleeping around, but Tyler was steadily decimating his record.

Tyler laughed. “Look, just quit looking like your dog died and go find your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Seemed that way to me,” Tyler said.

“Mom and Dad are here. I can’t ditch them.”

“I can handle riding herd on the parents, Chase.”

Tyler was an adult now, he reminded himself. He might always seem like a kid to Chase, but when he’d been Tyler’s age, he’d already been living in Spain for four years and was traveling solo constantly to race. And Madison had to leave soon anyway; she had to be on set tomorrow.

“Okay, tell them I’ll see them at the hotel later.”

“Go, get out of here.”

Chase didn’t waste any more time debating. He got out of there.