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“Fine,” I said, snatching the keys from her. “You probably don’t even know how to handle her. Bet the gears are all stripped.”
She just laughed. “So that’s going to be your excuse to insist on driving? You think women don’t know how to drive?”
“Not women,” I corrected her. “But girls like you? Yeah, I don’t think you know how to handle a car like that.”
“You must not have watched the end of the race.”
“You mean the one where Royal beat your ass?”
She shrugged as we reached the car. “Royal doesn’t make excuses. He just won’t ride with anyone else.”
“Sounds like an issue he should take up with his therapist,” I said. “I have no problem letting someone else drive. I just want to make her purr. I’ve been eyeing this car since you started racing. Where’d you get her, anyway?”
“She was a gift from my uncle.”
“Nice uncle,” I said, running my fingers over the shimmering forest green paint. “Original color?”
“Custom from factory,” she said. “It’s the only ‘69 in this color.”
We climbed inside, and I turned the key, letting the engine idle for a minute so we could listen to the sweet sound. I fucking loved a good car, even if it wasn’t worth it to have one restored anymore. The Dolces were fond of wrecking Darling cars, so it’d just end up smashed if I had one. I got to livevicariously through the drivers when I set up a race. All the reward, none of the risk.
Or so Dixie said.
“I’m surprised you can handle a shift,” Gloria said, shaking her head as I pulled out onto the road. “I figured you’d stall before we got out of the lot.”
“You’re funny.”
“That wasn’t a joke,” she pointed out. “It was an insult.”
“All the founding families have a thing,” I said. “The Darling thing is cars.”
She snorted. “Please. None of y’all race, and I’ve seen Dixie driving you around. God, you’re such a beta.”
“I’m a goddamn feminist,” I said, flashing her a grin.
She smirked at me. “Or maybe you’re just lazy. I bet you’re one of those guys who says your favorite position is cowgirl just to get the girl to do all the work. Total bottom energy.”
“Nah, it’s for the view,” I corrected her, shifting and giving the car more gas. The roar of the engine filled me with a swell of power, like I was a god again for a moment. I couldn’t stop the smile from rising to my lips. There were fucking few things that still made me smile, and I didn’t try to crush the urge when it arose.
I glanced over at Gloria to see if she’d give me shit about it. She was watching me, but she was grinning too, like she knew just how sexy driving this car felt. Of course she did. It was her fucking car. She seemed to have relaxed now that we were somewhere that no one would see us together. Turning forward, she leaned back in her seat and rested her arm on the windowsill.
For a few minutes, we just drove. Winding through the quiet streets and onto the two-lane blacktop that led to Grandpa Darling’s estate, I felt almost like my old self. The car was fastand responsive, powerful and flashy. The few cars that passed us looked when we went by. Contrary to my earlier comment, she’d definitely taken care of the car. It was in perfect condition, and it drove like a fucking dream. When I glanced over at her again, this sexy blonde stranger sitting in the passenger seat wearing my shirt, I remembered again what I’d lost.
I remembered what it was to be a king.
“Where we going?” Gloria asked at last.
“To my grandpa’s estate.”
“That’s not too far from me,” she said with a smug smile. “I live in the same neighborhood as Royal.”
“Let me throw you parade.”
“Better than whatever gutter you crawl into at night.”
“My cousin lived next door to him,” I pointed out. “You may not have grown up around here, but you must know my family has money.”
“I just know you looked awfully comfortable sleeping behind a dumpster.”
