Chapter Seventeen – Cole
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
COLE
I grip the wheel of the Viper, trying to focus on the race ahead. But all I can think about is Lola, her body, and her scent. Fuck. I wanted to take her right there on the hood of Eleanor and make her forget everything but my name.
But I didn’t. Couldn’t. The way she looked at me, like I was the enemy… it twists something inside me. She thinks I ratted her out and ruined her life. The thought makes me want to put my fist through something.
How the hell did we get here? My Lola, believing I’m the villain in her story. And I have no fucking clue how to prove her wrong. It feels like there’s a cavern between us now. We’re acting like strangers, not like a fake couple, and definitely not a real one.
The track stretches out before me, a shimmering mirage of heat and humidity. It’s race day. The roar of the crowd, a cacophony of cheers and jeers, drowns out everything else, even the noise in my head. This is my world. Where I belong. Where I can outrun all the shit weighing me down.
My crew chief’s yelling something that I can barely hear over the chaos of the track. Doesn’t matter. I know what I need to do. Channel all this restless energy, this fucking frustration and want, into pure speed.
The Viper gleams, sleek and deadly under the merciless sun. She’s my escape, my release. For the next few hours, nothing else exists.
I pull on my helmet, but I can still feel Lola’s eyes on me. It’s a weight I carry as I slide into the driver’s seat. Heavier than any trophy I’ve ever won.
Engines growl to life around me. The vibration rattles through my bones, familiar and comforting, but today, there’s a different kind of hunger clawing at my insides.
I rev the Viper’s engine. The checkered flag’s waiting, but so is Lola. And I’m not sure which one I’m really chasing anymore.
I tear my eyes from the green flag, searching for her. Fuck. I can’t help it.
There she is. Lola. A damn firecracker in the pit lane chaos. Headset on, clipboard clinging to her like a shield. Her forehead’s got that little crease, the one that shows up when she’s in the zone, and she’s barking orders at some poor bastard on the crew.
Those eyes, though. Fuck. Even from here, they cut right through me and set my blood on fire faster than any engine ever could.
My chest tightens, and I swallow hard against it.
“Get your head in the game, asshole,” I growl at myself. “You’ve got a race to win.”
I force my eyes back to the track. But she’s there. Under my skin. In my head. Her taste, her fury, the fucking pain in her eyes when she threw those accusations at me. It’s got me all mixed up inside, a cocktail so potent that might just blow me apart.
I can’t shake her. Not that I really want to. And that scares the shit out of me more than taking any hairpin turn at 200 miles per hour.
The flag’s about to drop. But I’m already racing. Chasing something I fear I might never catch.
Yellow. Yellow. Green!
The world explodes. Engines scream like demons unleashed. I slam the gas and the Viper surges forward, hungry for blood. We tear through the pack, the desert wind trying to rip my face off.
“Stay tight, Cole.” Lola’s voice, cool as a cucumber, rings in my ear. My rock. Even now. “Don’t let Tane get inside on turn one. He’ll try to box you out.”
I can practically see Tane’s smug grin through his helmet in my mirror, that gaudy-ass car of his creeping up. Good driver. Cocky bastard, though. The kind who cracks when shit gets real.
And today? It’s a fucking inferno out here.
The crowd’s losing it. We’re fighting for every inch, cars so close you couldn’t fit a razor blade between ‘em. Tires screaming bloody murder.
But I can’t focus on any of it. Not Tane. Not the cameras. Not the roar of the crowd that used to set my blood on fire.
All I hear is her voice. All I see are those eyes, burning into me from the pit.
Lola.
Always fucking Lola.
The race used to be everything. Now? It’s just noise. I can’t drown out the storm she’s kicked up inside me.
I take the turn hard, my tires begging me for mercy. But I don’t let up, already racing something I can’t outrun.
The world shrinks to the sound of her voice. Lola. My compass in this shitstorm.
“He’s leaving a gap on the inside,” she says. Still cool as ice, sharp as a blade. “Take it.”
I trust her. With my life, my career… with this fucking ache in my chest I can’t shake. I punch it. The Viper howls, thirsting for more. The gap’s closing. Every inch of asphalt cranks the tension higher.
We’re trading the lead, a dance with the reaper. But something’s off. My edge is dulling. Focus slipping away like sand.
Lola catches it. She always does. “Cole, what’s wrong? You’re not hitting your marks. Your lines are sloppy.”
“I’m fine,” I growl. The lie tastes like ash.
I’m not fine. My head’s a fucking warzone. All I see is her. That smile. Those eyes. Her touch burning on my skin.
“Get your shit together, Lawson,” I snarl at myself. Empty words.
The more I try to focus, the more she floods my mind.
“Cole.” Her voice cuts through. Sharp. Worried. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
I hesitate. Pride and need at still at war inside me.
“I… I can’t concentrate,” I admit, voice raw. “My head’s not in it.”
The words hang there. Heavy. Real. Everything I can’t say trapped behind them.
I feel her pause. The silence stretches, filled only by the roar of engines and the thundering of my own heart.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Her voice is softer now, barely a whisper in my ear. “I’m throwing you off.”
Fuck. I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles white. “Lola, I?—”
“No,” she cuts me off. There’s steel in her tone now. “Listen to me, Cole. Whatever’s between us… it doesn’t exist right now. You hear me? For the next hour, I’m just your engineer, and you’re just my driver.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. But she’s right. She’s always fucking right.
“You’ve worked too hard for this,” she continues. “ We’ve worked too hard. Don’t let… Don’t let us ruin it.”
I swallow hard and force myself to breathe. To focus on the track ahead.
“Copy that,” I manage. The words feel inadequate. There’s so much more I want to say.
“Good,” she says. All business now. “Tane’s coming up on your left. He’s gonna try to force you wide on turn thirteen. Don’t let him.”
Just like that, we’re back in the race. But something’s shifted. The tension between us has morphed into something else. A shared purpose. A silent understanding.
I lean into the turn, feeling the G-forces try to tear me apart. But I’m solid now. Focused. Lola’s voice is in my ear, guiding me home.
We’ve still got a mountain of shit to sort through. But right now? Right now, we’re a team again. And that’s enough to set my blood on fire and send adrenaline pumping fiercely through my veins.
“Let’s win this fucking thing,” I growl, pushing the Viper to its limits.
I can almost hear the smile in Lola’s voice. “That’s my boy. Now show these assholes what you’re made of.”
The world blurs into a haze of speed and adrenaline. Tane tries to box me in, just as Lola predicted, but I’m ready for him. I feint left, then cut hard right, threading the needle between his car and the wall. Metal screams, sparks fly. But I’m through.
“Fucking beautiful,” Lola breathes in my ear. Her pride hits me harder than any G-force ever could.
We’re in sync now, her words and my reflexes moving as one. The laps tick by, a blur of sweat and focus and raw determination.
“Two more to go,” she says. “You’ve got this, Cole.”
I’m in the zone, that sweet spot where nothing exists but the track and her voice. The finish line’s in sight, but Tane’s not giving up. He’s on my ass, looking for any opening, but I sure as shit am not going to give him one.
“Don’t get cocky,” Lola warns. “He’s gonna try something desperate.”
She’s right. Of course, she’s fucking right. I feel Tane’s car nudge my rear bumper, trying to destabilize me. The bastard’s playing dirty.
“Steady,” Lola says, her voice soothing. “Let him make the mistake.”
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to retaliate. One wrong move and it’s over. Everything we’ve worked for, gone in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.
The final turn looms. Tane makes his move, trying to slingshot past me on the inside. Time slows. I can see it all playing out. If I block him, we’ll both crash. If I don’t, I lose.
“Trust me,” Lola’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Hold your line.”
I do. I fight against every instinct screaming at me to defend my position, but I hold steady. Tane overshoots, his tires skidding on the loose gravel. He fishtails, barely keeping control.
I punch it. The Viper roars, surging forward like a beast unchained. We cross the finish line in a blur of checkered flags and screaming fans.
Lola shouts. The cool professionalism is gone, replaced by pure, unbridled joy. “You fucking did it, Cole!”
I’m laughing, the sound raw and primal. Relief, triumph, and something else—something tied to the woman on the other end of this radio—all mixed up inside me.
As I take my victory lap, all I can think is: I’m going to fuck the smile off her face.