Boom! Betcha didn't expect the next part out so soon! Haha!

-:-:-:-

You wandered into your family's private box, dazed and still beaming from the prospect of a date with Race later today.

Wait, was it a date? I mean, he did give you a kiss on the cheek, so probably. But what if that's just him being friendly? You didn't know what he considered platonic or whatever. What if you completely misunderstood the situation? What if...

What if you just stopped overthinking everything for once and just enjoyed the fact that you were going to get ice cream with a really cute dude?

That works.

You smiled dreamily as you plopped down into your seat, gazing out at the racetrack. You'd see your Racetrack soon down there. That thought made your smile grow even wider.

This pleasant daze, however, was interrupted by your Grandmother slamming the door to the box open and scrambling over to you frantically. Your elation instantly deflated into disbelief and horror. She was gasping for air, a panicked look clear on her weathered face. You jumped up and rushed over to her, placing your hands on her shoulders.

"Grandmother! What's wrong?! Are you alright?" She looked up at you, tears in her eyes, then pulled you into a hug.

"Oh (Y/n), my darling dear..." she whimpered. You'd never seen your grandmother so distraught in all your life.

"Is it Grandfather? Is he alright? What about Skye? Please, tell me what's wrong!" You cried, trying to hold back a wave of your own tears.

"Paul just told me he will not be riding for us any longer."

"What..?" You gasped quietly, feeling a bit faint. Grandmother nodded sadly.

"The World bribed him to sabotage your race today. He took the money and now your reputation will be ruined!"

"Is Skye alright?!" You demanded frantically. If he injured her in any way—

"Yes, he didn't harm her, but we have no rider! She can't race today and it'll look as though it's all our faults! I'm... I'm so sorry, (Y/n)"

Grandmother burst into tears once again. Failing to hold back her devastation, she ran off to the ladies room, not wanting to be seen in such a state. You weren't in much better shape, but you remained rooted to the spot.

Racetrack rode for The World. Did he have a hand in this? He must have.

You knew it was too good to be true.

Here you were thinking everything was going to be just perfect for you. And now what? You'd let a pretty face distract you from your purpose here. You were a complete disgrace to your family name; to your mother. How could you have let this happen? In your dismay, you didn't notice the golden mane of curls bolt into the box.

"(Y/n)?"

You looked over at him, betrayal clearly plastered on your face.

"Anthony?"

"No, George Washington. Yes Anthony!" The blond boy snapped, obviously a little annoyed at you. His attitude sliced through your wall of composure, letting your frustration, betrayal, and anger rush out. You stepped towards him, livid.

"You, sir, have no right to use that tone of voice with me. Your stable... you... you ruined any chance I had at actually amounting to something." Tears welled up in your eyes once again. Dang it, you were so weak today...

Race just looked worried. You channeled your hurt into anger and turned it all on him.

"They put you up to all this, right?" He didn't respond. You lowered your tone to mock Pulitzer, the owner of The World Stable.

"Hey, Higgins, go distract ignorant, stupid (Y/n) with your pretty face and your charming personality. Flirt with her, get her to only think about you all day so that she will be completely unawares when we rip the rug out from under her." You glared at him.
He glared back.

"Are you serious?" He demanded. You turned away. He growled in frustration.

"So you're just going to accuse me of all this without even listening to what I have to say?" He snapped back, turning you to face him once again and getting right up in your face, forcing you to back up a few steps. For such a small guy, he was kind of scary when he was angry.

"I don't need to hear what you have to say!"

"I didn't have anything to do with this! Listen to me, please!" He yelled.

"No! I'm a disgrace to my mother's memory because of you. And if we weren't at the races right now, I would slap you into next week!" You cried, a hint of hurt woven into your anger.

"Is that all that's stopping you? Forget social rules; do it! I deserve it, right?"

"Yes, you deserve it!" You said, stepping towards him angrily.

"Then do it!"

"I will!" You raised your hand to do just that, but he didn't even wince. He just stared you down with those piercing blue eyes of his. You hesitated.

"Oh, screw it." You mumbled before grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a very unexpected kiss.

At first, he was more than a little surprised, but he soon sank into the kiss, sliding one hand around your waist and the other into your neatly pinned hair. Your brand new hat fell off, taking most of the pins with it and exposing your (h/c) tresses to the sunshine. If the stuffy old people could see you right now, the scandal you would cause would last for years, maybe even decades, but you didn't care at the moment. Not one bit.

Now this wasn't your first kiss, but it was hands down your favorite one to date. It wasn't soft or sweet, but fueled by the fire and passion from the argument beforehand. After the emotions simmered down a little, the kiss became softer, more calm and almost... loving.

You pulled away and noticed for the first time that Race was practically on his tip toes in order to reach your face.

He must have noticed it at the same time, because when his gaze met yours, both of you started giggling like little school girls. Once you had calmed down a bit, you looked back at him to find him already staring at you, smiling softly.

"You realize we literally just met like less than an hour ago, right?" He chuckled, caressing your cheek a little.

"Yeah, well. You know how the races are. Lots of risk taking within these walls." You murmured back.

You fell into a comfortable silence, getting lost in each other's eyes for a moment.

"You know I didn't have any idea about what The World was going to do to you, right?" He asked cautiously, breaking the silence. You sighed nodded, pulling away and sinking down into your chair. You put your head in your hands.

"Yes, I know that, Race. And I'm sorry for not listening to you. I was upset and I felt betrayed, but that's no excuse to take it out on you. Will you forgive me?" You asked, keeping your head down. Race squatted in front of your chair and pushed your chin up with his finger. He smiled warmly at you.

"Of course I forgive you. You called me pretty and I like people who call me pretty."

You scoffed playfully.

"What am I? Chopped liver?"

"Nah, I was thinkin you're more of an angel." He whispered to you before pulling you into another kiss. This one was softer, sweeter, and you new favorite. You had a feeling that each time you kissed Race it would be your new favorite kiss.

He pulled away and you frowned.

"I wasn't done with you yet, Racetrack." You said and pulled him back. He laughed and gave you another peck before standing up.

"Hold your horses there, (Y/n). Now is not exactly the best time for that."

You pouted and crossed your arms playfully, but then what he said sank in.

"Hey, Fun Size, was that a horse pun?"

He smirked.

"Hay is for horses, (Y/n)."

Which was Race-speak for 'it absolutely was.'

You groaned and sank down further into your chair. Race giggled and plopped down onto your lap like a little kid. Being a jockey, he was exceedingly light, so you didn't mind one bit.

"Hi Santa!" He said in his cute, high voice.

"What?" You laughed. He smiled at you and continued.

"For Christmas, I want my girl's horse to win the race today." Your cheeks filled with heat at first, but then the rest of his statement sank it. Your face fell.

"Race, that's very sweet of you, but... you do know that we don't have a jockey anymore, right? We can't even begin the race without a rider, let alone win it." He smirked, gesturing to himself.

"Who says you don't have a jockey?"

You stared at him in confusion. It took you a moment to realize what he meant. You gasped.

"You? But... Bottom Line—"

"Will have to find a new rider. I already quit. I won't work for people who are willing to do such horrible things to perfectly wonderful people. Not to mention what they say about you..."

Your mood darkened.

"What do they say about me?" You asked quietly.

Race hesitated for a moment.

"Well... lets just say that if I had known who you were before we had started talking, I probably would have given you the death glare and ignored you completely."

"Wow... well, then I guess I'm glad you didn't."

He gave you a genuine smile, making your heart flutter.

"Yeah, me too."

This was absolutely crazy. You literally didn't even know this boy existed yesterday. It was so unlike you to be so reckless, but something about him made you feel as though the risk would pay off.

"You know, I've seen you around the races before." He said trying to flatten your mussed up hair.

"Really now? Have you been stalking me, Mr. Higgins?" You joked. He laughed, giving up on trying to fix your hair and just playing with it instead.

"No, not exactly... but it's kind of hard to not notice a girl like you among the throngs of mean, stick-up-their-butts old people. You just seemed so... kind and gentle and, I don't know... warm I guess." You smiled at the compliments.

"Honestly though, I never expected you to be so feisty. It's intriguing."

You laughed at that one.

"Me? Feisty? That's a first."

"A good first?" He said, leaning in.

"Absolutely." You whispered, glancing down at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.

Race smirked and placed his hand on your cheek. You slid your hands over his shoulders and into his surprisingly soft hair.

"We're being really stupid right now." You murmured. He scoffed.

"Who ever said I was smart?" He responded, closing the small gap between the two of you.

And of course, it was at that exact moment that your grandmother decided to return to the box.

"Oh heavens me!" She cried at the sight of her hatless, disheveled granddaughter with a strange, equally disheveled boy sitting on her lap. Race jolted so hard that he fell off of your lap, landing in a heap at your feet. You jumped up from you chair, whipping around to face your grandmother.

"(Y/n) (L/n), what is the meaning of this?!"

You chuckled awkwardly and shot finger guns at her.

"Hey, Grandmother. How—"

"Silence. We are in the middle of a crisis and you thought for even a moment that this was an appropriate time to... meet with a man?!"

"Grandmother, please—"

"Quiet! I don't want to hear another word from you right now. We will discuss this carelessness later." She snapped at you before turning her attention to Race. Her eyes narrowed once she saw who it was.

"Higgins, you dirty, rotten snake. I didn't expect you to be as slippery and cunning as that poor excuse of a stable you work for. Don't you dare touch my family ever again. You—"

You had had enough.

"Grandmother." You snapped. She was so taken aback by your outburst that she fell silent. You glared at her, then turned to help Race up off the ground. Once he was firmly on his feet once again, you stepped between him and your grandmother.

"I know how bad this looks, but he had nothing to do with any of this and if you would just listen, you would be thanking him, not berating him."

"What?" She murmured. Race gently moved you to the side and stepped towards your grandmother, grinning sheepishly and stretching out his hand in greeting.

"Hehe, umm... sorry for the... awkward introduction Madam (L/n)." She glared at him. He dropped his hand, but persisted anyway.

"Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I think I can solve your jockey situation."

-:-:-:-

It took some convincing, but eventually, Grandmother gave in to letting Race be Thunder Skye's jockey. This was mostly for your benefit; today was your debut, after all. There was very little time to acquaint Skye with Race, but luckily his charisma seemed to work on horses too. She licked his face as soon as he said hi to her. Race just grinned and said he was getting kisses from all the ladies today. Grandmother was not pleased at that comment.

Pulitzer was livid at Race and at you, attempting to get you disqualified for cheating. His reasoning was that switching jockeys the day of the race was a questionable course of action and foul play was likely. This endeavor, however, was cut short when you threatened to bring his own actions to light. Rather than facing banishment from the Sheepshead Races, he opted to hire Paul, your treacherous ex-jockey, as Bottom Line's rider.

As for your grandmother's opinion on your relationship with Race, she absolutely did not approve of your *ahem* actions in the box, nor his near constant flirting, but she was willing to give Race one more chance with you, so long as he kept his hands (and lips) to himself. You (begrudgingly) agreed to those terms. Besides, you really just wanted to get to know him better, and that would be rather difficult with a second tongue in your mouth.

It had been a long, very tense 20 minutes, the horses were lined up and raring to run. Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest.

You looked down at the track, grinning nervously at Race when he winked and saluted you. You gave him a halfhearted salute in return.

"(Y/n), breathe. We don't need you passing out due to lack of oxygen." Grandmother snipped. She was still a bit salty about the whole Race thing.

"Sorry. I just really want Skye to do well." You whispered shakily.

Grandmother sighed sadly and placed a hand on your shoulder. You turned to look at her.

"I want you to know that I'm not mad at you; I just want to protect you. Your mother... she met your father when she was a little younger than you and the two of them got into quite a bit of mischief. I don't want you to make the same mistakes with Anthony."

You let out a little sigh of relief, happy to know that Grandmother wasn't going to chew you out for your actions.

"I really do appreciate that, Grandmother. And I promise that I'll be more careful in the future. I just want to get to know him better and see where this goes. And besides, I wouldn't be here if my mother never met my dad." You joked, a little less stressed than you had been a moment before.

Grandmother hummed.

"No, I suppose not. But please do be careful. Wait until you're more mature to get married, too; I'm too young to be a great grandmother..."

You jolted in surprise and let out a shocked squeak. Grandmother giggled at your reaction, which set you off as well. It felt good to laugh, letting out your worry and anxiety that had accumulated over the past couple hours.

"You have my word, grandma." She smiled softly and pulled you into a hug. You squeezed back, reminded once again of how lucky you were to have grandparents who cared for you.

"And they're off!" The announcer called.

The next few minutes were a blur. All you could remember was the dull roar of the audience and the pulsing of heartbeat in your ears. Time stopped, and so did your breathing. Bottom Line had pulled ahead of the others by a length.

"Come on, Skye. Show 'em what you've got." You whispered. You prayed with your entire being that Race would push her to go faster. You knew from training her that she could fly if given enough encouragement.

And either Race was a mind reader or God heard your plea, because Thunder Skye began gaining on Bottom Line just as they neared the finish line.

"COME ON SKYE!" You screamed, leaning almost over the rails of your box and earning a disproving look from your grandmother. Neck in neck, Bottom Line and Thunder Skye crossed the finish line. It was impossible to tell who finished first from where you stood.

The next moments were extremely tense. The entire stadium sat in silence as the stewards deliberated on the winner.

A collective breath was taken by the audience as one of the stewards stood to make the announcement. You felt as though you would pass out.

The call was made.

And you broke down in tears.

As it turns out, Thunder Skye looked just as good in gold as Race did.

And ice cream tastes so much sweeter with a side of victory.

-:-:-:-

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