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But then, it’s Friday night so there is still a good chance something could happen. I just hope it doesn’t. We’re just about at the end of the year so I’m kind of hoping the drama is done for now. We’ve settled all the scores and I doubt Jackson will be attempting to blow up Nate’s Mustang anytime soon.
I mean, those two aren’t particularly friends, but Nate stayed true to his word and extended an olive branch. After all, Jackson did call him when I needed him the most. He could have just left it and claimed he didn’t realize I wanted him, especially as we weren’t together then. No one would have batted an eyelash at the thought but because he did, it meant the world to me.
I have to admit, I’m kind of jealous of the way the guys sorted their shit out, and I guess this goes for most guys, but Nate literally just nodded at him. That was it. A nod. A simple freaking nod. Jackson saw, gave him a tight-lipped smile and they were done. Suddenly two years of over the top bullshit was over.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re not best friends, braiding each other’s hair and having sleepovers and pillow fights, but it’s a start. Maybe they won’t try to run each other off the road every time they pass each other.
Nate’s arm winds around my waist as we watch the races from our favorite spot which overlooks the whole track. “Do you need another drink?” he murmurs, kissing my neck in the process.
“No,” I smile, running my hand along his over my waist. “I’m good for now. I have no sorrows to drown, so maybe I’ll try to remember this Friday night for a change.”
I feel Nate’s smile against my neck. “Good plan,” he chuckles.
“Yo,” Tyson says as he arrives before glancing around our group of friends. “Where’s Jess?”
“Yeah,” Brooke says, piping up beside me as she glances around. “I thought it was a bit too tame here. Where is he?”
Nate grunts. “Fucked if I know,” he says. “He disappeared two hours ago and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Oh,” Ty grunts, digging into his dark jeans and pulling out his phone. He starts typing away on his phone, probably checking in with his best friend and telling him to get his ass here. “It’s not like him to miss race night. Especially when you’re driving.”
Nate just shrugs. He’s not Jesse’s keeper and to be honest, if I had to guess where he is, it would be buried inside Kaylah Millington, doing things to her that not even my wildest imagination could possibly come up with.
Tyson and Jesse are tied at the hip and they’re the biggest morons I’ve ever met. They feed off each other’s energy and depending on their mood, they could either be the funniest guys you’ve ever met or the most lethal. I mean, they’re a couple you don’t want to cross. Though, I’m sure Tyson is feeling it now that Jesse has been spending so much time with Kaylah. I’ll have to find him a girl.
A new race starts and I find myself distracted by the white Camaro speeding around the track, making a fool of his opponent. “That guy is good,” I murmur to Nate. “You’ve raced him before, haven’t you?”
“Mmmhmm,” he says, raising his head from my neck to look down at the race. “That’s Noah. He’s the guy from Haven Falls who let us beat the crap out of those guys at that party.”
“Oh, yeah,” I muse. “His only rule was to ‘take it outside’.”
“Yep.”
A grin rips across my face. “That’s also the night you blew up Jackson’s car.”
“A lot of things happened that night.”
My brows pull down as I try to remember the order of everything that happened when I realize it was the same night Phoenix told the world about my eating disorder and I attempted to beat the crap out of her. It’s also the night we discovered she was the boy’s half-sister and the extent of Caden’s cheating. “That was a shit night.”
I feel Nate’s nod against me. “That, it was.”
“You up next?” Puck questions, breaking through my thoughts.
“Yep,” Nate says before squeezing my waist and lowering his head back to my neck. “I should know better than to ask by this point, but are you coming with me?”
I scoff but the smile instantly crosses my face. I turn in his arm and he straightens up so he can look down at me. “No way, big guy,” I say as the sound of Noah’s Camaro down on the track attempts to drown out our conversation. “You drive like a little old grandma. I’d probably fall asleep out of pure boredom. But I’ll be there at the finish line when you cross it.”
Nate lets out a huff. “I’ll show you driving like a grandma.”
