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It’s effort. It’s something real. I haven’t given her that in a long time.

“Don’t crash it,” Huck calls as I start walking toward the exit. “And don’t do anything weird in the backseat! Tay and I haven't christened it yet.”

“Gross, man,” I toss over my shoulder, but a grin still tugs at my lips, the first one in what feels like months. My stomach flutters with nerves.

The truth is, I don’t need this to fix everything. I just want a chance to remind her that I still see her and that I still remember how good we used to be.

And maybe she’ll remember, too.

Chapter

Nineteen

Salem

Steaming hot water pours over my body, easing the tension in my sore muscles.

I tip my head back and groan, tempted to turn the shower temperature up for the sole purpose of having hot water for once. I don't even know how long I've been in here. Don't really care, honestly, because with I Get Off by Halestorm blasting through my phone speaker and steam filling the space, it's magical.

For the first time in weeks, I’m alone. Not in the back of a truck or tiptoeing around bunks and bodies. Just me and these four tiled walls. There isn't even a Logan waiting for his turn since he apparently left during the race to do something for Huck, and you can bet your ass I'm taking advantage of the solitude.

I can finally have some personal time.

Leaning back against the wall, I close my eyes, still feeling the rumble of the dragsters vibrating my bones. I part my thighs and dip slick fingers between my legs, almost flinching when I brush against my sensitive clit.

I don’t know if it was the smell of gasoline, the energy of the crowd, or men in uniform, but I've been achingly horny all damn day.

Waking up surrounded by Logan’s scent didn't do me any favors either.

I shake my head to banish the man from my thoughts and imagine the track once again, picturing sweaty guys pushing fast cars to their limits. What can I say? Adrenaline junkies turn me on. Probably why I had such a thing for Tay⁠—

Nope, I will not think of him, either. Not when I'm about to finger myself. That just feels gross.

Huffing out a breath, I try again, conjuring up the image of Cowboy Harper to try and get myself off—his sinful smile, those blond curls.

But feel… absolutely nothing. What the fuck?

I frown at my hand moving between my legs and tweak one of my nipples, hoping for something to help release this tension. I feel like a rubber band stretched taut. The sight of Logan’s back yesterday suddenly pops into my head, the dimples on his hips, and an electric current jolts through my body. A rush of warmth floods my palm, and I have to sink my teeth into my lip to stifle a whimper.

Okay, I absolutely hate that this is what does it for me, but I just want to come. I need to come.

Using both hands, I softly rub my clit again and push a second finger inside myself, rocking my hips once the orgasm starts to build. Memories of college run through my head, hurtling me toward the edge. All those time we’d video chat before we started fucking…

The screen blinks bright as Logan finally picks up, his face illuminated by the glow of his laptop. His hair is a little messy, shirt off, and he looks tired in that unfairly hot, end-of-the-day kind of way.

“Hey,” he rasps, voice scratchy. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I shift on my bed, my tank top slipping lower. “Nah. You?”

He smiles and leans closer to the screen. “Was about to pass out, but I figured if I didn’t answer, you’d break into my parent's house and stab me.”

“Correct.” I grin, biting my lip. “Missed you today.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, his attention darting south. “You always call looking like that when you miss me?”

Glancing down, I realize that my shirt slipped lower than I thought, revealing a nipple. “Oops? Didn’t realize I was giving you a show.”

“Oh, but you did.” His voice deepens, dark and hungry enough that I shiver. “You’re evil.”