Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Xavier
It’s Friday night. Race night. The kind of night that crackles with electricity in the air. The crowd's roar, the engines revving, the sound of rubber meeting dirt. It’s everything I’ve ever loved. But tonight, all I can think about is Izzy.
She’s been avoiding me all week. The silence between us grows heavier with every passing minute. What happened to us? We were in a good place, or so I thought. But now she’s pulling away, and I’m scrambling to figure out why. It eats at me, gnawing at the back of my mind.
I slam the truck into park, harder than necessary, my fingers gripping the wheel until my knuckles turn white.
My pulse thunders in my ears, louder than the engine I just killed.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the makeshift pits where the other racers are prepping their cars.
The sound of engines revving, people laughing, and distant chatter fills the lot, but none of it reaches me. None of it matters. Only Izzy.
I need a plan. A way to get her to talk, to tell me what’s wrong, without pushing her further away. I try to steady my breathing, forcing the tightness in my chest to ease. But it doesn’t. The uncertainty gnaws at me, making it harder to focus.
I grip the door handle and push it open with more force than needed.
The door slams shut behind me, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet lot.
Boots crunching on gravel, I step toward the pit area, my eyes scanning the crowd for her.
I try to shake off the weight of my thoughts, but my eyes are drawn to her like a magnet.
And there she is.
Izzy.
She’s getting out of the passenger seat of her dad’s pickup, her arms stretching above her head, the motion highlighting her curves in that tight white T-shirt that hugs her like it was made just for her.
My throat goes dry as I watch her. I can’t look away.
But when her gaze meets mine, my breath stalls.
It’s as if she can see right through me, like she knows everything I’m thinking without me saying a word.
She smiles, but it’s not a smile that reaches her eyes.
There’s a distance in her stare, a coldness.
“Hey, fucker,” Nolan greets me, his voice cutting through the quiet. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” I reply, shrugging as I unstrap my car and push it out of the trailer, keeping my gaze on Izzy.
My dad calls my name, dragging me away from the sight of Izzy. “Xavier, can you give me a hand?”
I force myself to look away, even though every inch of me wants to keep watching her. I try to steady my pulse as I walk toward my dad, but it’s harder than it should be. My mind is still stuck on her, and the cold space between us feels like a chasm.
“What do you need?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Austin needs help unloading their cars.”
I glance over at Izzy once more, but this time she’s talking to Nolan.
Her back is turned to me, her racing suit on, the blue fabric hugging her body in all the right places.
A familiar ache stirs deep in my chest, but I push it down and focus on what I need to do.
We’ve got a race ahead, and I can’t let myself get distracted.
I force myself to help my dad and Austin, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Izzy. Laughter rings out nearby, and it stings. It’s not my laughter, not my joy. It’s someone else’s, and it cuts deeper than I care to admit.
“Xavier,” a voice purrs, and I don’t have to look to know who it is. Lisa.
My teeth clench, irritation flaring before I even turn to face her. “What?”
Lisa steps closer, her heels clicking on the gravel. She runs a finger down my racing suit as if trying to leave her mark. I feel disgust crawl up my spine, but I keep my composure.
“I thought you might want some company,” she says, her voice smooth like honey, though a thin layer of desperation lies beneath. “You look like you could use a little... release.”
I don’t need to look at her to know what she’s offering. Her presence is suffocating, a weight that makes me shrink back. I’m not interested. Not in her. Not tonight. Not when everything inside me is already screaming for Izzy.
“No, I don’t need anything from you,” I snap, stepping back, trying to put some space between us.
Lisa’s eyes flash with anger, but she doesn’t back down. She steps closer, pressing her chest toward me as if daring me to make a move. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’ll see you after your race.”
I feel a sickening wave of disgust as I turn away from her, trying to focus on my car and check the engine, but I can’t. My mind is still on Izzy.
And when I look up again, I catch her standing between two trucks, her face flushed with embarrassment. It all clicks in my mind. That's why Lisa was so forward. Fuck. Izzy saw that. She saw everything.
I close my eyes for a second, my breath shaky. I need to talk to her. I can’t stand the distance between us anymore. Not after everything we’ve been through.
“B,” I call out, using the nickname I’ve used for years. I see her stiffen at the sound of my voice, but she doesn’t turn to face me. Her gaze is fixed on her car, as if it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Izzy, please,” I try again, my voice softer. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She sets the tire gauge down with a soft clink, then spins to face me.
Her eyes, those familiar, fiery eyes, are filled with hurt, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.
The wall she’s built is colder than I can handle.
She crosses her arms tightly over her chest like she’s trying to shut me out.
“Nothing,” she says, her voice colder than I ever expected. “I’m busy.”
The words sting. But it’s not just the words, it’s the way she’s acting. Like, I don’t even matter to her anymore.
“Busy with what, Izzy?” I ask, stepping closer, my voice rising with urgency. “We’ve been dancing around this shit for days. What the hell’s going on?”
She bites her lip, but it’s not enough to hide the hurt in her eyes. “It’s not like you think, X,” she says, shaking her head slightly, as if trying to convince herself more than me.
My heart sinks. I want to reach for her, pull her into my arms, and make her tell me what’s going on, but I can’t. Not when she’s so far away. Not when every inch of her pushes me away.
“Something’s wrong. Talk to me, please.” I can’t keep the pleading out of my voice. I’m at my breaking point.
Her shoulders sag as she exhales sharply, but she doesn’t answer me right away. I step into her space, desperate to get her to open up, but she steps back, her back hitting her car. She’s trapped, and I’m not going to let her leave without giving me something.
“I’m not going to let it go,” I say, my voice firm. “You’ve been avoiding me all week. I thought we were in a good place, but now... I don’t know.”
Her breath hitches. She hesitates, then shakes her head without meeting my gaze. “You don’t get it, do you? I can’t keep doing this. It’s… It’s too much, X.”
Her words hit me like a gut punch. I stagger back, trying to catch my breath, but my chest feels like it’s caving in. “What’s too much? Us? This?” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it, but I can’t stop the frustration and hurt. “I’m trying here, Izzy. I’ve been trying.”
She reaches up, her slender fingers brushing my cheek, and my breath catches in my throat at the unexpected touch.
Her scent is intoxicating, and I can’t help but close my eyes, wanting more.
I want nothing more than to gather her in my arms and ease whatever pain she’s hiding.
I want to be her everything, like she’s mine.
I don’t have the courage to take that next step.
Just as quickly as she’s close, she pulls away.
She looks at me then, really looks at me.
But there’s no love in her eyes, only that same coldness.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she says, her voice tight, the words like daggers.
“You’re always running from something. You never stop.
You never slow down. And I can’t keep up.
I can’t… I can’t keep living like this.”
Her words slice through me. I want to reach out, pull her close, but I don’t. Not when she’s so far away. “You think I’m running from you?” My voice cracks, but I can’t hold back. “I’m not running, Izzy. I’m here. I’m right fucking here, and I’m trying. Why can’t you see that?”
She doesn’t respond. Instead, she steps back, away from me, her arms tightening around herself as if to protect herself from me. “I don’t know, X. Maybe we’re just… not meant to be.”
It’s like a punch to the chest. I feel my breath catch in my throat, but I force it down. “You’re serious?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous. “Is that really what you think? That we’re nothing? That this,” I gesture between us, my hand shaking slightly, “is just nothing?”
Her breath catches. “I didn’t say that,” she whispers.
The silence between us is deafening. Every second that passes feels like it’s tearing me apart. I want to scream, to shake her, to make her see what we have, but I stand here, helpless.
“Izzy,” I sigh, my voice breaking again. “I can’t let you go. I won’t.”
She looks at me then, and for a moment, I think I see something flicker in her eyes, something soft. But then it’s gone. She turns away, and the coldness seeps back into her voice.
“You don’t have a choice, X,” she says, her back to me. “I’m already gone.”
Her warmth vanishes, and I’m left standing in the cold, confused and yearning for her.
Izzy doesn’t give me a chance to respond before slipping into her car and starting it up, the engine roaring to life. She pulls away, heading toward the track for her qualifying lap, and I’m left in the pit, watching her go.
“Did you find anything out?” I ask Nolan, who’s been standing off to the side.