My pocket suddenly starts singing the chorus of “She’s Got Issues” by The Offspring. Lexi pulls away from me with a jerk. She rolls her eyes.
“Interesting choice of ringtone.” She climbs off my lap, out of the car, and goes to lean up against the front fender with her arms crossed over her chest. Damn it! I look at the caller ID. I better answer this and deal with Lexi after. I speak quietly so Lexi can’t hear. If she finds out about my family drama she’ll really not want anything to do with me.
“Hello, Aunt Sarah. What do you need?” I ask hesitantly.
“Coen, darling, what makes you think I need something? Can’t an Auntie just call to check up on her favorite nephew? I haven’t heard from you in ages.” she says dryly. Her voice resembles Cruella de Vil, as does her demeanor. Aunt Sarah had to raise me ever since I was eight years old. She never thought that day she agreed to babysit she’d be stuck with me forever. Neither of us did.
“Sure. I guess. But I just spoke with you last week, and you never call just because. So what do you want?” I ask again, not impressed that I have to deal with this today. Especially now. Perfect fucking timing Aunt Sarah. As always.
“Well dear, since you asked, I need you to come over and put a bookshelf together that I bought today.”
I let out a deep sigh of frustration. Just what I want to do this weekend. Put up with Queen Sarah’s bullshit and demands. I’m sure she’ll be standing over me the entire time telling me everything I’m doing wrong. Nothing I ever do is right her eyes. All I am to her is a fuck up. A burden. A slave to her every beck and call.
Lexi moves away from the car and goes to sit on her front porch. She looks disconcerted. God only knows what is going through her head right now. I need to get off the phone and figure this shit out. I need a clear head going into the race tonight. “Fine. I’ll be over tomorrow morning.”
“Make sure you are here before noon, Coen. I can’t have a brawny, tattooed….person,” she hesitates, trying not to use the word ‘freak’, “hanging around my house when my book club friends show up. You’ll scare them all half to death. Ta ta!” The other end goes silent. She got what she wanted, so she hung up without waiting for my reply.
“Fuck you too, you evil wench.” I shove my phone back in my pocket and lay my head back against the headrest for a brief moment to gather my thoughts before I approach Lexi.
![Fast Lane _12.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/268279/read/images/_12.jpg)
WHAT WAS I THINKING letting Coen kiss me like that? I only just met him today. Who does that? So much for swearing off men for a while. So much for having self control. So much for not letting Coen know he’s getting to me. Way to show him you aren’t interested, Lexi. Kiss him like you’re starving to death and grind on his cock like a stripper. I’m not this girl. I don’t move this fast. This isn’t normal. My head is spinning. Not only from that insanely hot make out session in my car, but from all the questions circulating through my head right now. This immensely hot, tall, muscular, tattooed guy shows up, not just once, but three times in one day, and sweeps me off my feet faster than I can blink. This is the kind of shit that happens in those cheesy ass romance novels.
And what is with that ringtone? It has to be a woman on the other end. That would only make sense, right? It’s probably his wife, or his ex wife, or his baby mama, and I’m just his “flavor of the day”.
Maybe I’m over thinking it. I mean this is a crazy, once in a lifetime thing. There’s no chance in hell that a guy this beautiful is ever going to pay me this kind of attention again. But can I really trust him? Who the hell was that on the phone?
I snap out of my daze when I hear Coen’s boots on the cement getting closer to me.
I don’t hesitate. I have to know, before this goes any further. “Who was that on the phone?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Lexi. It was my aunt.” Coen has his hands resting in the back pockets of his jeans.
“That isn’t a very loving ring tone for an aunt,” I say raising an eyebrow.
Coen sighs. “Yeah, well, she’s not exactly the loving type, unless designer bags and shoes count. That’s all she loves.” He rolls his eyes.
I’m not really sure what to say next. I don’t even know this guy. I know his name. I know that he has an amazingly sexy body that’s covered in gorgeous tattoos, especially that neck. My God, that neck drives me crazy! I know that he really seems interested, but I need to be sure I can trust him before I let him in my life at all. I can’t handle the stress and anxiety of having to put up with someone like Patrick again.
I wonder why he seems to hate his aunt so much. I decide not to pry.
“Look, Lex, I’ll understand if you don’t show up to the race tonight,” Coen says as he turns his back to me and leans over to rest his arms on the railing. “I don’t know what came over me today. There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on. I feel drawn to you.” I can’t see his face, but he lets his head fall to his chest and takes a deep breath.
“Coen, what race are you talking about?” I ask, confused. “And don’t worry about the kiss. It was nice,” I say. Maybe “nice” wasn’t the best choice. It was definitely a lot hotter than nice.
Faster than I can blink, Coen grabs me by the waist and pulls me tight against him. His lips are so close, but not touching, and he’s gazing into my eyes so deeply I fear he can see my soul. God, he smells so good.
“The quarter mile tonight. There’s a race.” He winks. “And as for the “nice” kiss, next time you’ll be seeing stars, Princess.” He slowly runs his tongue up my neck, nips at my earlobe, and grinds his hard cock against my waist. Our breath is ragged. Part of me wants him to just pick me up over his shoulder, carry me inside, and fuck me until I can’t walk. But another part of me says this is insane, and we need to slow the hell down.
He stares into my eyes for a few moments longer, and lets me go. “I have to run, but I do hope I’ll see you later tonight, Lexi.” He’s back to looking serious again. What is his deal? Coen starts down the front porch steps to leave.
“Hey, Stalker.” He stops at the sound of my voice, and turns to look at me with that sexy smirk on his face.
“Yeah, Sweet Cheeks?”
I drag my teeth across my bottom lip. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Coen winks and continues back over to Derek’s. I go inside and peek out the blinds. While I wait for Coen to leave, I give Brea a quick call.
“Hey, Chick!” she answers.
“Hey, Brea. I can’t talk long, but what the hell was up with you at the tattoo shop earlier? Did Coen say something to you?”
Brea’s quiet for a minute, which makes me even more suspicious. “He caught me while I was on my way to the bathroom and asked if I would give him a few minutes alone to talk to you. He’s seriously got the hots for you, Lex. I really think you should give him a chance,” Brea says.
“I think I just might. I’ll explain later.” I hear Coen start his car. Now’s my chance. I hope this doesn’t backfire. “Meet me at the quarter mile at eight. You aren’t going to want to miss this.”
“What are you up to?” Brea’s on to me.
“Gotta go. See you at eight!” I hang up without giving her a chance to ask me again. I know she’ll try to talk me out of it.
Once I’m sure Coen is gone, I head over to Derek’s. This day has been a whirlwind of emotions and crazy coincidences, so I figure maybe Coen’s right. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something. I must be absolutely insane to allow a man to get close to me so soon after breaking up with Patrick. But something about Coen just feels right.
I’ve been into drag racing for as long as I can remember, but I haven’t been in years. I’ve been known to race show-offs at a stop light on occasion, though. My Shelby can definitely hold her own.