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“Sounds like you have a much better shot at becoming something on your own,” I say. “You don’t have someone else’s legacy following you around like a ghost.”

“I guess so.” He lifts his shoulders slightly, a strange look on his handsome face. “But I’m realistic. Those guys have a better shot because of their last names and the influence their fathers have over the league. Teams are already looking at them, anticipating where they’ll land in the Draft. To make it, I have to cut through all the noise and find some way to stand out more than others. My stats are good enough, but like I said, I’m a realist. I need a plan B in case plan A goes south.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “And that’s stealing cars?”

He laughs. “No, not even close. This is a means to an end.”

“I should probably already know this but what’s your major? We never talk about school.”

“Computer science with a minor in finance.”

“My dad is in finance.”

“I’m well aware,” he says.

“Strange combo, huh?”

Killian shrugs off my comment. “Not really. I want to combine the two together after I graduate.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’m working on a financial app that I want to sell at some point. I just have to work out some of the kinks and figure out how to pitch it to VCs.”

“VCs?”

“Venture capitalists.”

“My dad could help you with that.”

His laughter fills the silence in the car. “Yeah, right. I’m sure he would love to hear a pitch from the guy who stole his car.”

“It was my car.”

“Same difference.” He scratches the corner of his jaw, staring into my eyes. “The app isn’t even ready for beta testing yet, and until I figure out how to sell it to businesses, I have nothing to show.”

“You’ll figure it out, Killian.” I rub his arm, and his skin dots with tiny bumps. It’s not often I notice the effect I have on him. He’s usually the one doing this to me. “I have faith in you.”

He blows out the air he was holding and sighs. “Thanks, Jade.” He tilts his head toward the garage to our left. “You ready to go inside? I want you to meet everyone for real this time. Nate texted me that Chase has cooled off since the race. He won’t be an asshole again. I promise. And if he is, I’ll knock his ass out.”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “I’d like to meet your friends on less hostile terms. They’re important to you, and since you’re important to me, I want all of us to get along.”

He brushes his lips against mine. “Me, too.”

Once we step inside, Killian clears his throat to catch his friends’ attention. The conversations in the room come to a screeching halt. It’s like one of those movies where the DJ scratches the record, and everyone in the club stops to stare.

And now, all eyes are on me.

My throat closes up from the intense gaze Chase shoots in my direction. He pushes his blond hair off his forehead, his deep blue eyes burning a hole through me. If he weren’t so hostile, I would say he’s gorgeous, but his shitty attitude takes away from his hotness.

Killian was the same way when we first met. Look how fast I was able to melt away the tough guy persona and force him to let me into his world. I did it with Killian so I can do it with Chase and the rest of the crew. They’re the closest people to Killian, like an extension of his family. No matter how much they hate me for being rich or a liability to their livelihood, I have to make them like me. This will never work with Killian if his best friends can’t stand the sight of me.

My dad taught me to meet bullies head-on. Never back down from them. Westbrooks don’t show their weaknesses, they conquer them, he would say. Like my dad even has any weaknesses to conceal.

Unhooking my fingers from Killian’s, I march over to Chase, hovering over him. He has his elbow propped up on one of the few couches scattered around the back room in the garage, drinking from the beer bottle in his other hand. The room doesn’t have any windows and is large enough to accommodate the ratty, grease-covered couches. There’s a desk in the corner covered in what looks like work orders for cars and a small kitchen along the back wall.

“I know you hate me,” I say to Chase, his mouth turning up into a creepy smirk. He studies me as if he can’t believe I have the nerve to challenge him. “But if Killian trusts me, then you should, too. Or at least, let me show you that you can.”

“The only people I trust are in this room, and you are not one of them,” Chase growls, his deep, manly voice so cold and devoid of emotion it causes me to shudder.

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