Page 73 of First in Line

He shrugs. “Eh, you drive the fastest cars in the world for a living. Honestly, I get it. But not under my watch, Mr. Reyes.”

“And I appreciate you for that. We need more officers with your integrity, sir.”

I really don’t think he catches on to the irony in my voice, since he straightens up, taps the roof twice, and walks back to his car with a proud stride, chest puffed and thumbs in his belt.

I wait until the cruiser does a U-turn to head back to wherever it was posted before pulling into the road. Well, that was close. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten out of a speeding ticket, but I genuinely thought I’d gone too far. I was doing at least forty miles per hour over the speed limit.

Like I promised I would, I’m more reasonable with the speed for the rest of the drive. The night has fully fallen, and the moonless sky means all I can see is what my headlights hit. Slowing down might have been a good idea regardless of the trooper’s warning.

I’m not even sure I knew where this drive was leading me, but I don’t question it as I park in the driveway. I don’t fight it when my legs carry me to the door. And when my fisted hand itches to slam on the door, I let it.

This whole thing was to get her out of my head, yet here I am, banging on her door.

After a moment, it swings open, revealing Evie in a cream bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a matching towel.

“Jackson, what the hell?!” she nearly shouts at me. “Are you mad?!”

“Yes, I’m mad,” I reply in the same tone, stepping inside before turning toward her. “I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Me? Why?!”

I grab the door she’s distractedly holding and slam it shut, refusing to let the entire neighborhood hear us.

“Because you had no right, Evie! No fucking right to walk back into my life like this. Not after the way you walked out of it.”

“I tried not to, you stubborn moron!” She unwraps the towel around her hair and throws it over the railing of the stairs, fingers shuffling through her long strands to set them right. “I tried to let the lawyers handle it, but you didn’t want that either,” she reminds me.

“Then you should have forced it on me! Bring it to fucking court, I don’t know. Anything would have been better than this! Better than you coming back, only to rip my heart out all over again!”

“I didn’t mean to do that, Jackson. You’re the one who kept coming after me, repeatedly. I tried to stay away, but you wouldn’t let me!”

“Because you’re like a drug to me! You’re all I can think of, all I want, all I care about, all I crave. It’s like I need you in my veins, Evangeline. I need you with me all the time.” I pace the space between the living room and the open kitchen to help contain myself. “And I was clean, Evie. I was finally clean, and it took me so long. It took me so fucking long to get you out of my system. Fuckingyears. And then you came back, with your fucking eyes and your quick fucking tongue, and it all rushed back to me. The memories, the future we wanted to have, the dreams we shared…”

I stop talking but keep pacing, fighting the urge to touch her, to grab her, and shake her with all the frustration I hold.

“Why do you think I tried to stay away from you?” she asks, refusing to admit the role she played in this mess. “I knew this would happen, Jax. I knew the moment I saw you again, it would be like throwing a match into gasoline.”

“Right. And you just kept on throwing gasoline on it.”

Her jaw falls open at the accusation. “That’s not true!”

“Then why did you call to wish me a happy birthday in Japan? Why did you offer to help repair Winnie? Why did you give me that Polaroid picture? Why did you let me kiss you? Fuck you with my fingers?”

The anger that veils her reddened face only wavers then, lust surfacing in her gaze. “I don’t know,” she seethes. “Why did you steal the spark plugs in my car? Or invite me to dinner? Or make the divorce so complicated?”

“Because I’ve been in love with you for almost half of my life, Evie!” I shout. “And I had accepted that fact. I had learned to live with it. Or I was trying to. Until you came and fucked it all up again.”

We stare into each other’s eyes, both breathing hard, jaws tight. “What do you want me to do about it, Jackson? None of this is my fault.”

“It’s not?! Youbrokeme, Evie. You destroyed me. That first year in F1, I was only that good because I genuinely had no will to live. I didn’t care about the risks I took, so I took them all. It could have gone either way, but it paid off instead of killing me.”

She snickers, shaking her head as she looks up. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t take risks before. You did. All the time. And we both know what that cost us.”

The mention makes me recoil. I take a couple of steps back, my lungs empty as if someone just punched me in the chest.

Seeing this as having the upper hand, she squares her shoulders and raises her chin. “Now, I would like you to leave my house, Jackson.”

She does her best to stand firmly on her ground, but I know her too well to be fooled by appearances.