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“That was Josh, wasn’t it?” Brea asks.

“Of course it was. We aren’t even technically late yet. Let’s go before he gets his briefs in even more of a bunch,” I say with a laugh. “He threatened to misspell words.”

We hop in the car and head to the tattoo studio.

Fast Lane _8.jpg

PANTING.

Sweaty.

Spent.

My bedroom smells like sex from the past two hours I’ve spent with this chick. She gives some of the best head I’ve ever had.

I’m lying here, staring at the gray walls of my bedroom. Black silk sheets wrap around my sculpted body that I work so hard to maintain. I don’t make it a habit to bring random girls home, but after I won the race last night I was feeling the adrenaline surge. Plus, it had been a few months, and a man has needs.

I feel the bed move and her tiny arm slides across my back.

“Mmm…so what’s for breakfast in the morning?” she moans.

And there go the alarms sounding in my head. Ding ding ding! Times up!

“I don’t do the cuddling thing. You need to go now. Sorry if you got your hopes up. Thanks for a great time. I’ve called you a cab.”

She jerks back and pulls her arm away from me, then rolls off the bed and jumps to her feet in a huff. “What the fuck, Coen? I didn’t know you were such a selfish asshole!” She continues stomping around my room gathering her clothes.

“Yeah, well, you go throwing feelings into things and you just get hurt,” I reply.

“Do you even know my name?” she asks.

“No. And I don’t need or want to know it,” I say, lifting myself up to a sitting position against the headboard. I do know it, but I don’t want to give her any false hope. Easier to be an asshole now and get it over with. She tugs her shirt over her head in fury and lets out a loud, frustrated growl as she storms out and slams the door.

I don’t have time for drama queens and clingy chicks. I learned a long time ago to not let anyone get too close. I have my car and my racing to keep me happy. Everyone only cares about themselves. No matter how much you bend over backwards for them, they’re all the same.

I slide out of bed and stride over to the window to make sure Miss Drama Queen got into the cab safely. I can’t have it on my head if something would happen to her. She’s just climbing in as I glance down, and the cab pulls away.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I let out a deep sigh and slip back under my silk sheets. My eyelids are feeling heavy. There’s nothing like a quick quarter mile victory and a two-hour romp to wear a guy out.

Besides, I have a busy day planned tomorrow.

When I wake up, I have only three things planned for the day.

1. Washing my skanky sheets.

2. Getting some fresh ink.

3. Bringing home another win (minus a drama queen this time).

I shower, change my sheets, and put on my favorite black, tight-fitting t-shirt and jeans, along with my favorite black pair of Chucks. As I’m lacing them up, my stomach growls. Maybe I better add “grabbing some lunch” to my to-do list. I pull my car into the gravel parking lot at the Stoplight Café, and notice that it’s a little busier than usual as my stomach growls again. I decide to take my chances on finding a seat. I’m fucking starving.

The bells rattle against the glass door as I stride in. Right away, I spot one seat free at the counter. Perfect. I slip my legs over the red bar stool, and it’s not long before someone comes to take my order. Thank God! After reading the menu, I run my hand through my hair. I keep it long on top and shaved on the sides. Mentally, I run through my schedule again for the rest of the weekend. Worried I’m going to forget something important.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Turning slightly on the stool, I glance out of the corner of my eye and see the most gorgeous redhead I have ever laid my eyes on. She’s wearing light blue skinny jeans with a teal tank top, and fuck if it doesn’t hug her body in all the right ways.

She’s talking to some other chick. By the sound of it she just went through a break up, but she seems relieved about it judging by the smile on her face. I can hear a little bit of a southern accent, but I only notice it when she says certain words. The two of them are sitting at the table off to my right, beside the wall of tall windows. This is perfect.

While I was so busy staring at the sexy redhead, my food arrives. I turn my attention to my lunch. This juicy cheeseburger and these fries were just what I needed.

And so is she.

I have to get that thought out of my head right fucking now.

She’s just another hot chick, Coen. Forget about her. Girls just complicate things. I wipe my mouth with my napkin and place it on top of my empty plate as I glance over to her table one last time. I have to get out of here. My palms are sweaty, and it’s suddenly getting a little harder to breathe.

Shit. She sees me looking at her. I notice she has cheese sauce on her face.

I wish I could go lick it off.

What the fuck, Coen?! Snap out of it!

I already know I’ve been caught, so I give her one of my signature smirks. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as her cheeks turn a light shade of red, and quickly snaps her head to look out the window. I grab my phone from my back pocket and pretend to check my messages while I wait for her and her friend to get up. I don’t know why, but I feel like I have to talk to her, even if it’s just for a second. I’ll buy her lunch and that will be it. Just a friendly gesture, you know, since she just went through a break up and all.

Yeah, that’s it.

I patiently wait and plan out when to make my move. I don’t want to scare her off. She seems like a good girl, so she probably isn’t use to big muscular tattooed guys approaching her in small diners. Her hyper little friend is about to finish paying, so I casually get up and move in line behind her, leaning in close enough that I can smell her hair. She smells like cherry blossoms. She shivers, and I know she can feel my breath on the back of her sexy, smooth neck. Quietly, in my most seductive voice, I tell her that her meal is on me.

“Um, thank you. But that’s not necessary. No offense, but I don’t know you and I am perfectly capable of paying for my own meal,” she says, turning around to face me. She’s a feisty little thing. God, if she doesn’t have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen. This short, hot, curvy little redhead is looking me up and down like she wants to devour my entire body.

I can’t say I’d be against that. Maybe just for one night. I’ve been with a decent amount of girls in the past ten years or so, but never with a redhead. I’ve gotta have a taste. I smirk at her again and hold out my right hand, “Hi, I’m Coen Walker. Nice to meet you.” I pause, raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell me her name.

“Uh, Lexi Taylor,” she says as she puts her wallet away. I think she realizes that I’m not going to take no for an answer.

“Look, Lexi, I don’t just go around buying random gorgeous girls lunch.” I rub the back of my neck. I don’t know what’s coming over me right now, but this girl obviously had a shitty night last night. The words escape me before I can think twice about them. “You have the most amazing brown eyes I have ever seen.”

Shut up, Coen! You fucking idiot. Don’t get sucked in.

“Um, thank you, Coen.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of red. “It was nice meeting you as well, but we’re in a rush. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“Looking forward to it, Lexi. It was my pleasure,” I say with a wink and smile. She turns around and bolts for the door so fast she damn near trips over her own feet. Fuck if it isn’t cute to see how flustered I made her, and I didn’t even touch her.