Un-Valentine's Day

Scene 4: Race to the Finish

Noah watched as the Miramar track staffer adjusted the seat and pedals of Cassie’s kart and gave her the safety briefing. She leaned in close to the man and whispered something to him. He laughed, threw Noah a look, then whispered back. A prickle of unease danced up Noah’s spine. He knew that look, and it spelled disaster for him. Cassie clearly had a trick up her sleeve.

Shaking off his concern, he returned her smile. “Ready?”

“Oh yeah.” She adjusted the strap on her helmet.

They settled into their respective karts, along with the other racers, and waited for the signal from the track manager. As soon as it came, Noah took off. This was his chance to show Cassie he was more than just a GameHard computer nerd. Shooting down the straightaway, he maneuvered around the other competitors and took the first of the three hairpin curves. Two guys beside him took the turn with too much speed and bounced off the wall. His gut compacted into a ball. Would Cassie know to slow down?

He shot a glance over his shoulder and almost lost control of his kart. Not only had she taken the turn expertly, she was hot on his tail. His grip on the wheel tightened. If she whipped his butt, her opinion of him would be cemented, and he’d never get out of the friend zone. No worries. She was about to eat his fumes.

Slamming his foot on the accelerator, he pushed the kart to its full forty mph, easily taking the curves. But another hairpin turn was coming up, followed by the final straightaway before the end of the track.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie gaining on him. His heart skipped as disbelief stiffened his muscles. Who was this woman? A Formula One driver? Her posture, the grip she had on the wheel, the unwavering focus on her face, everything shouted her determination to win.

They took the hairpin in tandem, and as they embarked on the final straightaway, Cassie edged ahead. His kart had a little more juice left in it since he’d slowed down for the curve. If he floored it now, he’d beat her.

A gentleman would let her win.

Shit. She might not believe in Valentine’s Day and chivalry, but he did. He kept pace with her, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he crossed the finish line milliseconds behind her. His chances with her had gone from minimal to down the fucking toilet.

But Cassie’s face when she ripped off the helmet and turned to him, a joyous smile lighting her beautiful features, made it all worthwhile.