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“Whore is a very strong word,” he says. “I prefer attention enthusiast.”
“Oh, my apologies.” I tease.
Several beats of silence pass before he speaks up again.
“I just like being seen, I guess.” His somber tone causes me to pause, and I suspect that statement is a little more than surface deep.
Who are you, Bodhi Kane?
The rest of the drive goes by in a comfortable silence, and before long Bodhi directs me through side streets until we reach the bottom of his winding driveway.
I lean out the open window to punch in the gate code, waiting as it rolls back slowly before driving through it and up to his house.
Calling it a house is a complete understatement. The modern style mansion before me is exactly what I would have expected someone like Bodhi to live in. That he can afford to live in a place like this irritates me in a way that I know it shouldn’t. I know it’s just my struggles talking, but still, it’s hard not to be envious.
“Before you leave, I want to show you something.”
I cut my eyes at him in question before he sighs dramatically.
“Jesus, Keaton, I’m not going to drag you inside and chop you into little pieces. Too many people saw us together tonight,” he jokes, but I don’t find it very funny. “Oh my God, just come on,” he says before exiting the car and walking toward what I assume is the garage.
As unsure as I am, I’d be lying if I said my curiosity wasn’t peaked, so I cut the engine and get out, following behind him.
He slides open the garage door and steps just inside. Reaching for a keypad, his fingers dancing across the buttons as he enters yet another code. The screen turns green, and a tone sounds before he reaches over and flips a switch.
Lights down the hill past his house quickly draw my attention and I’m struck silent in absolute awe.
This fucker has his own personal racetrack.
Chapter 17
When I decided to show Keaton my practice track, it had absolutely nothing to do with showing off or flaunting my money, as some might assume. I simply wanted to show her. Like a kid showing off their brand-new toy to their friend, whom they knew would love it just as much as they did. I wanted to share the joy of having my own racetrack in my backyard with someone who I thought would appreciate it as much as I do.
By the look on her face right now, I was right. Her slightly parted lips and wide-set eyes, shining with the reflection of the track lights below, said it all, and I felt good. Not proud, or boastful, but happy that for just a minute she didn’t look like she was in some kind of pain.
“Holy shit,” she says with a note of disbelief.
“It’s pretty cool, right?” I say excitedly.
“It’s… Wow.”
I dip my head, chuckling softly. “Yeah, it is. You should race me.”
“What?” her head whips in my direction and she looks as if I just spoke to her in Chinese.
“Not now,” I hurry to say. “I know you have to get home, but if you ever want to practice” I trail off, letting the suggestion hang there in the air between us.
“You think I need to practice?” She quarks her brow at me.
“Well, I mean, it can’t hurt.” I shrug, tucking my hands into the front pocket of my jeans.
“I seem to recall that the last time I raced you, it didn’t end very well.”
“Oh, really?” I say, acting like I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Hmm, I guess it slipped my mind.”
