I just hope tonight isn’t a repeat of history.
I probably wouldn’t be having that much fun, but Micha is … well, Micha. He knows how to get under my skin and work his way into my psyche. When I was about eight, I seriously thought he could read my mind. Sometimes, I still do.
When we finally pull up to The Hitch—a neglected restaurant that’s tucked away near a back road in the middle of the mountains—I know right away that the fun I was having is going to go up to a whole other level, making my guilt soar.
Because we’re racing tonight.
And racing equals adrenaline rush.
And adrenaline rush equals tons of fun in drunken Ella land.
Micha slams on the brakes as we near the other cars parked around the flat, dirt area, skidding to a stop right before we run over a crowd of people. A cloud of dust coughs up around the car as Micha shifts into park.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks as he turns the keys and silences the engine.
The hour drive up here has effectively cleared my head of the clutter usually occupying it. “Yep. Much better.”
“Good, then I’ve done my job.” He unbuckles his seatbelt then turns to get out of the car. But then he pauses and twists back to face me. “I’m really glad you came with me,” he says before he leans over the console to brush his lips across my cheek.
Sober Ella would ream his ass for the move, but drunk Ella kind of likes it. He must not realize I’m that drunk, either, because he quickly hops out of the car before I have a chance to scold him. I hurry after him, reaching for the small bottle of Vodka I stashed in the pocket of my leather jacket as we stride across the gravel and past the parked cars.
Micha eyeballs me as I throw my head back to take a swig. “Where’d you get that?”
“From my house.” I screw the cap back on.
He frowns. “How much are you planning on drinking tonight?”
I shrug, maneuvering around so I’m walking backwards in front of him. “As much as it takes to keep the fun going.” I do a funky little dance move, and he snorts a laugh.
“Fine.” He moves up beside me and drapes an arm around me, navigating me toward a gathered crowd. “But, if I win the race, I’m so joining you.”
“Then who will be DD?”
“Guess we’ll be spending the night in my car again.”
“You know what? That doesn’t bother me.”
He grins, still staring around as we approach the crowd, the headlights of running cars beaming across the darkness around us. I breathe in the comforting scent of him—cologne mixed with mint and something else that only belongs to Micha.
The rustle of voices and excitement in the air instantly pumps up my adrenaline. I must be shaking with excitement or something because Micha whispers in my ear, “Relax, baby. We’ll get to the good part soon.”
I roll my eyes yet can’t brush off the wild, uncontrollable, fluttering feeling inside my body. I try to keep the sensation contained as we near the group, but it becomes too much, and I finally give up and allow myself to get all bouncy.
Micha laughs at me as I dance to the music playing out of one of the speakers. “And there’s my feisty girl. I was worried she wasn’t going to come out tonight.”
When I let out a playful growl while nipping at him, he chokes on a laugh, nearly buckling over.
“Okay, hand over the bottle,” he says, sticking out his hand, still chuckling.
I jut out my lip. “How come?”
“Because you just tried to bite me.”
“So? I heard you like to get bit.”
He skids to a halt in the dirt. “Where did you hear that from?”
I nonchalantly shrug as I stop in front of him. “There’s a rumor going around town that you let Ditzy bite you while you two were messing around.”
His jaw drops. “That’s so not fucking true.”
“So you’re saying you don’t like it?” I’m totally entertained by his uneasiness since he never gets unsettled. Usually, he’s the un-settler.
“No …” He squirms. “I’m not saying that … but I am saying that you’re super drunk right now.”
“Yeah, maybe I am.” I try to see clearly through my drunken mind, but it’s a lost cause, and I quickly give up. “So you have been bit by a girl, then?”
He crosses his arms, appearing tense. “Yeah, by you.”
My lips part in shock. “When did that happen?”
“We were fifteen and wrestling.” He cups his neck. “You bit me right here so I’d let you go. You’re such a dirty, little cheat.”
I wave him off. “That wasn’t a bite. That was a mere teeth nick.”
He stares at me unfathomably as his hand falls to his side. “How the hell did we end up in this conversation?”
“Because I’m drunk, and it’s funny watching you get all squirmy.” Then, just because I can, I spring forward, dip my head, and gently bite his neck. “Ha, ha.” I move back, smiling proudly. “Now I stole your first real neck bite.”
His jaw is practically hanging to the ground. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
I bat my eyelashes. “I’m sorry, did you not want to play?”
“No … that’s not it.” He glances from left to right. When I follow his gaze, I get blindsided by him as he jumps at me. His arms circle my waist, and before I can react, his teeth graze the skin of my throat. “What was that thing you were saying earlier?” He bites at the side of my neck again, and something inside my body explodes. “Payback’s a bitch.” He pulls away, grinning.
And I stand there, breathless and stunned as I cup my neck.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Ella May.” He raises the bottle of vodka he must have stolen from my pocket while he was biting me. “And you can have this back after I win the race.” Then he stuffs the bottle into the back pocket of his jeans and starts for the crowd again, doing his swagger walk.
I chase after him, pouting over the bottle and confused over my tingling body.
“What the fuck took you so long?” Ethan Gregory suddenly shoves his way out of the crowd. He is tall and slightly sturdier than Micha with dark hair and lots of tattoos on his arms, and he adds to that growing collection monthly. “You left the shop like three hours ago.”
“I had stuff to take care of,” Micha replies evasively. He knows that, if he says it has to do with me, Ethan will give me shit. “Besides, I’m here now, so quit getting your panties in a bunch.”