Page 35 of I Never Stopped Loving You

I slide into my race chair, and she slides into the one next to me. The seat is pushed all the way back, and she’s just a bit too short to reach everything. I can see her slightly struggling with the bar under the front of the chair between her legs. It’s an old game, so it’s probably stuck.

“Need some help?” I ask.

“No. I’ve got it…Damnit. I think it’s jammed.”

“Here.”

I place one hand on the back of the chair, and the other reaches in front, pulling up the bar, then sliding the chair forward until she can reach all of the controls.

“See. I’ve got you,” I say softly as I pull away.

I let my fingers barely brush against her thigh before returning my attention to my own screen. I can hear the slight gasp she lets out as she feels my touch.

“Remember, loser buys drinks,” I tease.

“Yep. Don’t worry, their White Claws are half off tonight, so you won’t be spending too much.”

“I won’t be spending anything, Little Rabbit, because there’s no way you’re going to beat me.”

We both click to start the game. We select our cars, and both select random for the map choice.

“You ready?” I ask as the screen shifts to the starting line of Rio De Janeiro.

“Are you ready, Mr. Anderson?”

“I’m ready for you to buy me a drink, Miss Bennett.”

I see the way her lips curl into that devilish smirk of hers. It’s so cute that she thinks she’s going to win. I grew up as an only child, and after my mother died, I practically had no one. Well, except for Jeremy. My summers were spent at my father’s cabin up north, sometimes without him even there, leaving me alone with our live-in nanny, Beatrice. She was an older woman who was more like a grandmother to me than a nanny. She would let me go to the arcade almost every single day and I became a master at every game in that place.

Three…

Two…

One…

Go!

We’re off. The race has begun, and she pulls ahead fast. I was caught in the memories of my childhood. The one I had to live through without her.

“Come on, slowpoke. I thought you said you were going to win?” she laughs as she drifts around the next turn. She’s in second, I’m in fifth.

See, the thing about playing the same racing games over and over again is that you learn where every single shortcut is. Where she keeps straight up ahead, I turn left. I stick to a small side path and race through the center part of the map putting me from fifth to third instantly.

I can see her glance over at my screen, confused, causing her to skid around the turn and bump into the wall. It gives me the second I need to pull ahead. I take another sharp left and veer back onto the main race track, putting me in first and her in third.

“No fair. Where the hell did you go?” she demands as she floors it and climbs to second place.

When I glance at her screen, she’s right behind me.

“Just a little shortcut,” I laugh as I finish the first lap out of three.

“Let me guess, you know where all the shortcuts are in this game.”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

She cuts hard on the inside of the next turn, switching our positions.

“You may know the shortcuts, but your actual driving sucks,” she teases as we finish the second lap with her in first and me in second.