27. Eloise
27
ELOISE
The sun feels like a weighted blanket against my skin as I stretch out on the faded lounge chair in our backyard. It’s quiet, except for the faint buzz of cicadas and the occasional rustle of the breeze through the trees. This is exactly what I need—a moment of peace before everything goes to hell tonight.
I adjust my sunglasses and let my head fall back, soaking in the rays. I’m only planning to stay out here for twenty minutes, then I have to get some things in order.
On the outside, I look all cool and calm. But on the inside, I’m a riot of nerves. Not that Margot or Vivie would ever know. I try to keep all that kind of stuff from them.
The screen door slams open with a bang loud enough to make me jump, and I hear her footsteps pounding across the patio like an approaching storm. Her shadow falls over me, blocking the sun like some prehistoric bird.
“I’ve given you a day,” she announces, hands on her hips, her voice full of righteous fury. “I gave you an entire stakeout outside that club and the entire drive home. All night, and then all morning. I’ve been patient, Louie, but I can’t wait any longer.”
I lift my sunglasses just enough to glare at her. “Margot, you’re blocking my light.”
“You’re leaving soon, and I need to know what’s going on with you and that guy yesterday.” She waves a hand dramatically in front of her, as if erasing my glare. “I’ve been patient as fuck, Louie.”
Dropping my sunglasses back into place, I sigh. “Why are you like this?”
“Because you’re not ,” she fires back. “What are you even doing out here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, getting ready for the race or something?”
“It’s not homecoming,” I deadpan. “I’m soaking up vitamin D, letting Mother Nature give me good luck.”
Her brows shoot up. “Is that even a thing?”
I shrug lazily. “I don’t know. Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?”
Margot groans, throwing her hands up. “I’m dying over here, Louie. Dying. Tell me everything. I need to know before I combust.”
I tilt my head toward her, a slow smirk spreading across my face. “What exactly do you think you need to know?”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. “Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. You’re not nearly as cute as you think you are.”
I push to sit up, indignation straightening my neck. “Bullshit I’m not. I have it on good authority that I’m very cute and coy.”
She sits on the edge of the ottoman, her knees touching my lounger. “From who, your man?”
I rear back even as my cheeks grow warm. “What? No. From me. I don’t have a man. I’m the good authority.”
Margot rolls her eyes so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t strain something. “Sure. Okay. Whatever.” She huffs, planting her hands behind her and leaning back. “You don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’m just your goddamn best friend and sister, but yeah, just ice me out. It’s cool.”
My lips part as shock steals my tongue for a moment. “Wow. Layin’ it on pretty thick, aren’t we?”
She drops her head back, face to the sky. “I just want to know what’s going on with you, Louie. Who was that guy at the coffee shop? The way he looked at you . . .” She trails off, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen anyone look at you like that before.”
I shift in my seat, an uncomfortable prickle running down my spine. She’s not wrong. The intensity in Beau’s eyes when he looks at me, it’s unsettling. Thrilling. Terrifying.
I exhale slowly, choosing my words carefully. “We met a couple of months ago.”
Margot sits up straight, her eyes wide. “Where?”
“In Oak Creek. I was finishing up a job, and we, I don’t know, bumped into one another. Became friends, I guess.” That word feels misshapen on my tongue, all sharp edges and dunked in sharp citrus.
She leans forward, her eyebrows digging into a V over her eyes. “Friends?” She barks out a quick laugh, leaning back again. “Bullshit. Friends don’t eye-fuck each other in the middle of a coffee shop like that.”
I choke on a laugh, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Jesus, Margot.”
“What? I’m just saying.” She shifts, elbows on her knees, and fixes me with an intent stare. “Spill, sis. I need the details.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, hesitating. Part of me wants to keep Beau to myself, like a secret I'm not ready to share. But another part of me is desperate to talk about him, to try to make sense of the tangled mess of emotions he stirs up in me.
I shake my head, my stomach twisting. “It’s complicated. He’s . . .” I hesitate, searching for the right words. “He’s my competition, Margot.”
She sits back, her eyes narrowing. “Your competition? What do you mean? Like he’s in another crew?”
I sigh, pushing my sunglasses up to rest on top of my head. “If you consider the Alley a crew.”
She stares at me, hard enough that I almost wonder if she’s trying to communicate telepathically. “Who is he?”
I exhale, my stomach twisting a little. “Beau Carter.”
“Carter. Like the Carter brothers? Like the guy who won the last two Gauntlets?”
My gaze snaps to hers. “How do you know that?”
She waves her hand in the air, brushing my question away. “I know lots of things. What I need to know is how the hell you ended up canoodling Beau freaking Carter?!”
I roll my eyes. “Who says canoodling anyway?”
“It’s my word of the week. Don’t dodge the question,” she replies quickly.
I roll my head from side to side, stretching out the tension in my neck. “Yeah, well, none of it really matters because Beau’s racing the Gauntlet. I saw him at that second pre-qualifier, you know. And he’s so fucking talented. There’s no way he won’t be invited to run the Gauntlet this year.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “Is that it?”
“What?”
“So you’re going to run the Gauntlet together? What does that have to do with you eye-fucking or for real?—”
“Watch it,” I interrupt her.
She throws her hands up, letting them fall to her legs with a slap. “What? We can’t talk about sex now? I thought you told me I can always come to you if I have questions.”
“You can.”
“Great, because I have questions. About you and Beau freaking Carter. And was he as good as everyone says?”
Jealousy pricks underneath my skin, like a persistent, sharp itch. I shift a little, trying to find a cooler spot on the lounger.
“Not questions about my sex life.”
“Ah,” she says, snapping her fingers. “So you do have a sex life with him.”
I recline and throw my arm over my eyes, hoping she’ll drop it. “You know, if I’d have known that having little sisters meant this kind of interrogation, I might’ve reconsidered the whole thing,” I grumble half-heartedly.
Margot huffs, leaning back on her hands. “Fine, fine. Be all mysterious. All I’m going to say is that you should go for it.”
I peek at her from under my arm, the corner of my mouth quirking up. “Explain.”
Margot leans forward, her eyes intent. “Look, Louie. I’ve seen you sacrifice so much for me and Vivie. You put your whole life on hold to take care of us. And I love you for that, more than you know. But you deserve something for yourself too. Something that makes you happy.”
Her words settle heavy in my chest, a lump forming in my throat. “I don’t even know him.”
“So get to know him.”
I swallow hard, blinking up at the sky. “It’s not that simple, Margot.”
“Why not? Because he’s your competition? So what? That just makes it hotter. It’s all forbidden and rivalries and street racing. This is the kind of stuff people make movies about. You could be living your very own romcom life, sis,” she says, her hands moving around the more she gets animated.
“Romcom?” I arch a brow.
She rolls her shoulders back and presses a hand to her chest. “I’m the comedy in your romcom, obviously.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I look at her. My gorgeous, intelligent, kind-hearted sister.
“I love you, know you.” It’s a soft murmur, solemn in an otherwise light-minded conversation.
She nods slowly. “I know. And it’s because I love you that I’m telling you to climb that man like a damn tree and have the time of your life, Louie.”
I bite my lip, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack Margot upside the head. She always did have a way with words. But as much as I want to brush off her advice, part of me can't help but consider it.
What if I let myself have this, just for a little while? What if I threw caution to the wind and let myself feel everything Beau stirs up in me, consequences be damned? The thought is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.
I push up from the lounger with a sigh. “You’re a menace, you know that, right?”
She grins, unrepentant. “It’s part of my charm. But seriously, Louie. Don’t overthink this thing with Beau. Just . . . see what happens when you let yourself have some fun.”
I sigh, my smile fading as I look over the backyard, the sun hanging high in the sky. “Yeah, maybe. I’ve got a race to win first though.”
“Yeah, about that. I have a few ideas. Let me grab my laptop. I want to show you something.” She jumps to her feet and jogs into the house.
I watch Margot disappear into the house, her words echoing in my head. Let myself have some fun. Don’t overthink it. Just see what happens.
It sounds so simple when she says it like that. Like I can just flip a switch and turn off the constant whir of doubts and worries in my brain. If only it were that easy.
But she’s not wrong. I’ve been so focused on taking care of my sisters, on doing whatever it takes to give them a better life, that I’ve hardly spared a thought for my own wants and needs. When was the last time I did something fun for me?
The day I impulsively went to see a drive-in movie.
The day I met Beau Carter.