Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)

Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3) Page 27

“You look like the two of you are just friends,” says Logan.

“I’m just watching her back.” I promised Rachel and myself that I’d protect her—from Eric, from the world.

“So you’re telling me that you’re into delusional shit?”

My spine straightens. “What did you say?”

Not giving a damn that I’m two seconds away from throwing a fist into his face, Logan lazily hooks his thumbs into his pockets and slouches to the side. “I got this friend Chris, right? He fell for another friend of ours, Lacy, but he didn’t want to admit it. Claimed the friend card, just like you, but for six months he looked at Lacy just like you’re looking at Rachel.”

“How’s that?”

“Like she amputated part of you and took it with her the last time she walked away.”

“Naw, you have it wrong.” But as my gaze switches to Rachel again there’s an ache growing in my chest. “Rachel and I are complicated.”

“Does your homeboy know you’re in a ‘complicated’ relationship with her?” asks Logan.

Since I’ve never brought a girl to the track before, you’d think my “homeboy” would be reserved. “Not sure.”

“So you’re standing thirty feet away because...”

“She wanted to see that car.”

“You could have gone over to see it with her.”

“Could’ve.”

“Jealousy’s a bitch,” taunts Logan. “And a symptom.”

“Why do you care?” I pop my neck to the side. If I look too close at the reason why I chose to keep distance between me and Zach, it’s because Zach’s a player and if I were any closer, I’d kick his ass and then Rachel would never see that car.

“I don’t,” he answers. “For some reason I’ve got a thing with stating the obvious. So you’re into her. If this shit you’re in is that bad, you might want to figure out what’s going on with the two of you first. Save yourself the drama of a breakdown in the middle, you know?”

I rub my hands over my face and feel as if my knees are about to give out. Fuck me, I am jealous and that is bad news. Wanting her is one thing, kissing her once in a moment of weakness is another. But having feelings for her? This is the type of shit that almost killed me with Beth.

“The look on your face is why I’m never falling,” Logan says. “I’ll swing my car by this week.”

I nod my goodbye and search for calm before I head over to the Cobra. The car may be named after a reptile, but its owner is the damned snake.

“Why would you mess with the original engine, though?” Rachel slides her fingers over the steering wheel as if she’s in mourning. “She was beautiful just the way she was born.”

Zach finally acknowledges me when my elbow smacks against his side as I shove my way between him and Rachel. He straightens and mumbles so only I can hear, “Damn, she gives me a hard-on. Gorgeous, and she knows cars.”

“I suggest you back the fuck off,” I mutter.

Zach smirks. “Hey, you’re the one that left her here with me.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Rachel asks.

“Cars,” I say. “You said you needed to be home by ten. It’s nine-thirty.”

She blinks as if she just woke up. “Crap. Already?”

I step aside so Rachel can exit the driver’s seat. Because Rachel is every guy’s fantasy, Zach begs her to stay: she should see the engine, she can ride in his car, she can drive his car. Each of his attempts to lure her to stay causes me to think of one more way to hide the body parts after I kill him. Rachel laughs him off and thankfully follows me to the parking lot.

The gravel crunches beneath our feet, and I envision a million different ways to wipe that conceited smirk off Zach’s face as she describes, in detail, every inch of the Cobra. A continual pressure builds with each word out of her mouth. I remind myself I was the one who introduced her to the dick.

“...and the inside was perfect.” Rachel rambles with a level of excitement I only thought possible in four-year-olds. “Like it just rolled off the lot. Well, not really, but you can tell he’s done a great job trying to re-create the feel...”

She’s impressed with him. Impressed with his car. Just impressed. And it’s not with me. We reach our cars, and the pressure rises to the level of explosion. “Do you like him?”

“What?” She half chokes.

“Zach. He asked you out. Do you want to date him?”

Rachel grimaces. “He did not ask me out.”

“Yeah. He did. He asked you to take a ride with him next weekend and you blew past the question. Did you want to say yes, but didn’t because I was there?”

Her mouth opens and closes several times. “He didn’t... It’s me, so he wouldn’t... Why do you care?”

Fuck it. “Because I do.”

Adrenaline pours into my bloodstream with the words, and my eyes dart around her face hoping to see some sort of a sign that what I said mattered. That I matter.

“Give me something, Rachel.” A word. A knowing glance. Anything.

Her beautiful eyes widen and because she must be the type that enjoys playing with fire her gaze falls to my lips. “Give you what?”

My heart rate increases. I’d give anything to kiss her again. Without realizing it, I step forward and Rachel retreats, backing into the car. Keeping her eyes locked with mine, I slowly reach out and cradle the slender curve of her waist, and when she says or does nothing to stop me, I step closer, letting my body slide against hers.

She sucks in air, and I love the soft sound. Her body heat reaches out and warms me and I wish I could wrap my arms fully around her. I crave to lose myself in the crook of her neck and be surrounded by her silky hair. Rachel tries to lower her head, but I reach up and touch her chin. “Don’t.”

I tilt her head up, engulfing her line of vision. She’s going to see me and me alone. No cars, no Zach, none of the other assholes trying to win her eye during the night. The sweet scent of jasmine entwining with the salty smell of the beach rushes into my lungs. I lick my lips, wanting to kiss her, but I’m too full of energy to dare let my lips brush hers.

Beneath my fingertips, her pulse beats wildly. “I don’t understand you, Isaiah.”

“Then we have something in common, because I don’t get you at all.” Nor do I understand the edge of anger and confusion beginning to roll in my veins.

Rachel was supposed to be a memory burned into my brain. The girl that I kissed, the girl that left me wanting more. But she’s delved deeper than physical, become embedded, and I don’t know how to dig her out. “I shouldn’t like you.”

She blinks several times as her eyes get glossy, but the tears I expect never come. Instead she jerks her chin and I drop my hand. “I think that’s clear. You kissed me then you never called.”

“If Eric knew I care for you, he’d use that against me.” Tons of people Eric know could be watching us, calling him, telling him that I’m close to the girl he felt betrayed him. It’ll give him an advantage over me. It’ll let him know my weaknesses, but the thought of Rachel accepting a date from another guy overpowers any logical thought.

“That sounds like a convenient excuse.” She wraps her arms around her waist, but she doesn’t push me away. Part of her wants me. A part she doesn’t understand, probably just like the part I can’t control. We’re at a tipping point. Both of us teetering one way or the other. I need the right words.

“I found out that night from a friend that you were in danger. I couldn’t let Eric think I liked you, not when your life was on the line. You were never going to be a fuck and I never called because I couldn’t be the link that led Eric to you.”

She shakes her head as I talk. “You told Eric I meant nothing!”

My voice rises to her level. What doesn’t she understand? “I was protecting you!”

Rachel presses both of her hands against my chest and forces me away. “I gave you my first kiss! I deserved better than to be left hanging. I deserved better than to be treated like I was nothing! Then I deserved better than to have your girlfriend thrown in my face!”

Girlfriend? “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Beth,” she says as a slur.

“Beth is not my girlfriend!” I yell and the sound of any conversation around us ceases. Both of us are breathing hard, as if we’ve run miles. She’s right. She deserved better then and deserves better now. She blinks and I hate that I can’t read her expression.

“What do you want from me?” I demand. I’ve tried to explain. I’ve tried to make nice and it’s not enough. Just like with Beth, nothing I do will be enough.

Rachel turns her head away and stares out into the dark night. No response. No words. Withdrawn into her head.

Fuck this. I’m standing here bleeding, and she doesn’t give a damn. “You can ignore me, Rachel, and you can try to treat me as a friend, but none of that will erase the fact that I think about kissing you every second I’m awake and dream at night of my hands on your body. And it sure as hell won’t erase that I’m terrified by how much I like you.”

I’m trembling, and my instincts scream at me to run. I said too much and feel things that are too dangerous. Her eyes snap to mine, but she says nothing. Does nothing. My heart drops as I realize what a fool I am. I’m just a guy who injured her pride. I mean nothing to her.

It’s too much. All of it.

“Forget about it,” I mutter as I wheel away and avoid eye contact.

I stalk off, unable to look back. Logan’s several spots down, talking to someone, and I point to where I left Rachel. “Make sure she gets in her car and leaves.”

Logan grins because I proved him right. “Sure. Where are you headed?”

“The dragway.” I need speed.

Chapter 30

Rachel

WITH A HUFF, I FLIP over in my bed again. It’s Sunday night, I have hours ’til school, and I can’t sleep. This does not bode well for me keeping my routine in the morning. The same thought circles my brain like one of those news tickers at the bottom of a TV screen: Isaiah.

He said he liked me. And the way he said it, the way his body was pressed against mine and how his hands held my body...that’s not the I-like-you-as-a-friend kind of like. It’s possibly the same like I feel for him. The type of like where I go sort of crazy when I don’t see him and then go crazier when I do. The type where he consumes my thoughts and then I can’t sleep.

Like now.

Isaiah said he liked me, and I didn’t say a word back.

The hurt in his eyes; the way his shoulders crumpled as he turned away from me...I am an awful person. I pull the covers over my head. What is wrong with me? A really great, really hot guy tells me that he cares for me, and I freeze. And to make it worse, the courage to contact him completely eludes me.

I now understand why so many deer are hit by cars.