Page 74 of First in Line

“Alright. I’ll leave on one condition.”

Her gaze hardens. “What?”

“I will walk out of this door and out of your life forever if you tell me one thing.”

“What?” she repeats.

“That you don’t love me anymore.”

Surprise flashes in her eyes before she can contain it. After a few seconds to strategize and think of what to do, she swallows hard and says, “I don’t—I don’t love you anymore, Jackson.”

Not even for a second do I believe her. Not with the way her voice cracks, or how her gaze can’t stay on mine. This is, in fact, the worst-told lie I have ever heard in my entire life.

And it’s all I need to know what to do.

Stepping forward, I grab her jaw in my hand and force her to look at me. “I told you never to lie to me, Evangeline.”

I don’t give her time to reply and dive in to plaster my lips onto hers.

This woman is the love of my life, and I’m done letting her pretend the same isn’t true for her. We were meant for one another. Destined to be together. Even more than I was meant to race.

And I’m not letting anything get in the way of my destiny.

I am, after all, not a quitter.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

Jackson

Ifucked up. Shit. I forgot about the fourth anniversary of the day we officially got together. The day she became my girlfriend and we had our first kiss.

And I only realized it because the plate that waits in the microwave, the one she always leaves for me, isn’t a regular dinner. She clearly spent a lot of time preparing it, and I wasn’t there to enjoy it with her.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

I shouldn’t have let the guys pressure me into going into town with them. I didn’t want to because I’ve barely been home these past few weeks. But there have been discussions about me joining the F3 team as long as I prove I can play well with others. So, when some of my teammates offered to go out tonight, I had to agree.

Releasing a long sigh, I close the microwave door and head to the bedroom. The lights are off, and Evie is wrapped in the duvet, her breathing steady.

I shed my outside clothes and gently make my way under the covers with her. “Princess?” I call out softly. No answer. I lay a kiss on her shoulder and insist, “Evie, come on.”

When she still doesn’t move or respond, I say, “I know you’re not sleeping. This isn’t how you breathe when you’re sleeping.”

That gets her to leave all pretense behind and turn around to offer me a displeased frown. “Evie, I’m sorry,” I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I can’t believe you forgot.”

“I can’t either. I promise I’ll make up for it, princess.”

“And how will you do it this time?” The resentful edge in her tone is more than deserved, but it still hurts.

“How about we take a trip somewhere?”

She weighs my offer for several seconds and then asks, “Where?”

“How about Las Vegas? Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to go?”