Page 58 of Crash Course

“Hi, Mr. Ashford,” Megan says.

“And you are?” But his attention is on me.

“Shay,” I say, inching ahead of Megan without meaning to. “We’re friends of your son.”

His eyes narrow. Luca inspects me more closely. “Shay what?”

I start to say MacDonald but hesitate. “Mac…Alister.”

Megan’s hand stiffens in mine. She’s not sure why I lied. I’m not sure, either. Except it’s better if Luca thinks we’re townies, not students at the school he lords over, where a single word from him could ruin our futures.

“You should leave.” His eyes stay on me. Not Megan.

“We will.” Megan blurts it first.

“Shay.” He calls after us right when I swear we’re home free. “Use the gate.”

“That was close,” Raj says as he swipes his card to pay for his coffee in the cafeteria the next morning.

“You have a twisted definition of close. He caught us.” Megan grabs for the card before he can put it away and swipes it three more times.

“What the hell?!”

“For yesterday,” she retorts.

Zane weighs in. “I made a bird sound.”

“Next time, send a text?!”

The cafeteria is buzzing since classes haven’t started. I steer us to a tiny table by the window. My friends keep chatting but my knee bounces, my bare thighs rubbing together.

A flash of silver out the window grabs my attention. I’m out of my seat and breaking for the doors.

“Shay!” Megan calls, but I ignore her.

Jameson’s Porsche turns into the parking lot as I bust out of the building, running down the steps to the front walk and dodging students on my way.

The car roars as it lunges. I beat him to his spot, the one next to Theo’s, which is currently empty.

Jameson throws the Porsche in park, the bumper six inches from my knees. My heart is hammering with anticipation as he revs the engine. The sound is sinful. A roar that erupts from a purr.

“I’ll bite,” he calls out the lowered window. “What’s Ghost Mode?”

“You said you wanted to be invisible, so that’s how it starts,” I say as I round to the passenger side and lean in, breathless with exhilaration and pride. “It strips everything down. Throttle response, suspension, traction control. Just raw speed.”

Jameson’s eyes drag down my body, lingering on my bare legs.

I almost regret the skirt—until his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

It’s the smallest tell. For Jameson, it’s everything.

Before he can respond, another engine roars. Theo pulls up in the best spot in his Lambo.

“Shay!” He’s out of the car and crossing to us.

“Missed the fuck out of you this weekend.” He loops an arm around my waist, bending me in a dramatic dip and brushing his lips over mine.

“You look insanely hot. How many flowers does a guy have to send to get your attention?” he murmurs against my mouth.