AllFreeNovel
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His eyes snap to mine. “For what?”
For not being someone you could really like. “For all of it. ” I lower my head and watch my purse smack my legs over and over again. “I know you think you owe me, but you don’t. This is my problem. I’ll figure it out. ” Though I have no idea how.
His eyes darken back into the serious charcoal I remember when he swore his promise to me. “This is our problem. ”
I’m a debt. He said I meant nothing. I gave Isaiah my first kiss, he never called and I’m a debt. Eric called me a fuck and Isaiah silently agreed. I’ve got lots of problems, and the last thing I want is to force a guy to help me because he thinks he owes me something. Not when I have feelings for him and he has none for me. Not when seeing him will continue to crush my soul. “Isaiah. . . ”
He cuts me off. “One thing you should learn about me—I don’t argue. ”
The purse stops swinging. “What?”
His eyes fade into a beautiful shade of silver. “This isn’t your problem. It’s our problem. And I know how we’re going to solve it. ”
“You do?” I ask a little breathlessly. Oh, those eyes are gorgeous. Too much heat curls along my body and with one finger, I tug at the collar of my coat.
His eyes follow the movement. “You should take off your coat,” he says and my heart jumps in my chest at the thought of taking anything off in front of him. “It’s warm in here. ”
Warm. The screwed-up heater. Right. Clearing my throat, I unbutton my jacket and slide it off. Isaiah takes it from me and I feel suddenly alone and naked as he crosses the room to place it on a hook on the wall. “We’re going to drag race,” he announces.
I snort. “
Because that worked out so well the first time. ”
He flashes that breathtaking smile, then it disappears so quickly I’m not sure it was there to begin with. “Street racing was a mistake I don’t plan on repeating, and neither will you. ”
Isaiah pauses as if he’s waiting for me to protest. I’m not. Lesson learned: no street racing. He continues, “Have you ever heard of The Motor Yard?”
“No. ”
“It’s a one-eighth of a mile dragway in the southwestern part of the county. ”
“Is it legal?”
“Yeah. And that’s where I’m going to win us the money we need to pay off Eric. ” Standing in the middle of the garage, Isaiah radiates confidence. I envy him.
“How is racing there going to be any different from the streets?”
“Because the place is legit and family-oriented. The guys racing there are generational—dads, uncles, grandpas, great-grandpas. I’ll make the money off side bets. The money per bet won’t be large, but I hope to win enough to compensate. ”
I’m already shaking my head. It doesn’t sound like much of a plan. “So the two of us are going to race and hope to win some side bets along the way and all of this will hopefully total five thousand dollars?”
“Not the two of us,” he says with no apology. “I’ll be racing and winning with your car. ”
I blink. “My car. ”
“Yes,” he says with absolutely no hesitation. “Your car. ”
There’s no way he can do it—make that much money in races he hopes to win. My lips shift to the right as I mull over what he said. He believes, but I. . . can’t.
Isaiah focuses on my mouth. In two easy strides, he crosses the distance between us and places his fingers under my chin. His warm thumb sweeps across the edge of my lips and my heart flutters. He performs the enticing movement one more time. . . but slower and my mouth responds by relaxing. I quit breathing and thinking. I have so missed his touch.
“I told you not to worry,” he whispers.
I choke on the sarcastic laugh and turn my head to breathe in air that’s free of his scent. Worrying is all I’m good at. “I’m not. ”
“You are,” he responds quickly. “When I say I’m going to do something, I do it. ”
Not true—he said he’d call and he didn’t. I fiddle with a wayward thread on the cuff of my sleeve as my heart sinks. What do I do if he bails on me? What do I do if I don’t work with him? Maybe I could ask West and Ethan for help. Maybe they have money.
