Page 49 of Redline
Her mouth opened, and I could see the denial already forming on her lips before she even had to say it. I was so sure of it I almost started walking away.
"Fine," she said, her voice ringing out clear across the concrete. "One hour, but that’s all I’m promising.”
The satisfaction died in my throat, replaced by a clarity that made my blood run hot. She didn't look at me. She didn't have to. The "fine" hit me harder than any insult she’d thrown at me.
"It's a date," Luka beamed.
I felt a sharp, sudden knot tighten right behind my sternum. I reached up, rubbing the heel of my palm against the center of my chest as if I could physically grind the pressure away, but the weight wouldn't budge. It was a restless, suffocating energy that made the garage feel ten degrees hotter than it was.
I didn't wait for them to leave. I grabbed my jacket, my eyes fixed on the back of her head until they rounded the corner, leaving me standing in a silence that suddenly felt too big for the bay.
"Marco," I said, my voice sounding like it was coming from someone else entirely.
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry about the floor tonight. I’m done with the car."
I was already moving toward the exit, my stride long and aggressive.
"Whoa, hey—we still have work," Marco called out, the clatter of a wrench hitting the bench echoing behind me. "We’ve got data to scrub before the morning session."
"I’ll be in first thing tomorrow," I threw back over my shoulder, not slowing down. "Four a.m. Promise."
"Dominic."
The tone in Marco’s voice made me stop at the heavy metal door. I didn't turn around, but I could feel him watching me. I stared at the exit sign, my heart hammering a rhythm that had nothing to do with racing.
Behind me, the rhythmic sound of Marco wiping down the bench stopped. I caught his reflection in the glass of the door’s small window—the grease-stained rag stilled in his hands. He wasn't looking at the car anymore; he just stood there for a long beat, his silhouette frozen.
"Get some sleep," he said finally. His voice was unusually level, stripped of the usual garage banter. He didn't ask where I was going. He didn't have to. "And try not to break anything you can't fix."
In the reflection, I saw him turn the rag over in his hands, his gaze shifting toward me with a look that was too steady, too knowing. It made the knot in my chest tighten. I didn't ask him what he meant. I didn't want to know.
I pushed through the door and hit the evening air at a sprint. I climbed into my car, the engine's roar the only thing loud enough to drown out the sound of her voice sayingfine.
I knew where I was going. And I had no intention of arriving late.
Chapter fourteen
Carter
The sand was still warm, radiating the day’s heat through the soles of my shoes as I walked. Luka was right; the sunset had been a masterpiece. The sky had bled into deep purples and oranges, turning the crests of the dunes into a sea of glowing warmth before the evening finally swallowed them whole.
It should have been relaxing. But as the wind picked up, carrying the distant, aggressive roar of engines from the racing dunes a bit further down the coast, I couldn’t stop the restless tap of my fingers against my thigh.
"You're doing it again," Luka said, his voice soft. He was sitting on the tailgate of his vehicle, dangling a bottle of water between his knees.
I stopped my hand mid-tap. "Doing what?"
"Thinking about your thesis. Or that essay. Or whatever it is you do when your eyebrows knit together like that."
I forced a smile, but his touch felt... heavy. Unnecessary. It was a gesture that usually would have been sweet, but tonight it made me want to take a step back. Luka was being attentive—perfectly, frustratingly attentive—in a way that made the air between us feel thick and strange.
"I'm breathing," I lied, adjusted the strap of my bag. "I think the sunset just gave me a headache. I’m going to go find the bathrooms and splash some water on my face. Give me a minute?"
"Sure. I'll be right here," he said, his eyes following me as I turned.
I walked toward the weather-worn timber shack near the edge of the shoreline, grateful for the sudden distance. The darkness had settled in fully now, the only light coming from the flickering lamps of the lot and the occasional flash of high-beams as a custom rig hit a crest.
