Chapter 5

The present

Emma's POV:

"You ready, Sis?" Lan asks me, his gaze steady on the tracks up ahead.

I shrug. "Might as well be. What about you?"

"I'm ready to kick your ass, for once," Landon winks, teasing me. I can bet that I'm the only one that sees his nicer side from time to time, well, other than the girl that he's been spending so much time with as of lately.

"You can try, amateur," I play into his joke. "It must be embarrassing to lose to your baby sister all the damn time, huh, Lan?"

"To hell with it," Landon flashes me a boastful grin, "if someone dares to say something, I will knock their teeth out."

I honestly don't doubt that he will. Landon takes after my mom in that sense. We come from a temperamental background. Landon isn't the first in the family that's been to anger management classes.

"So, what, no one asks if I'm ready?" Xavier, who'd obviously been eavesdropping on the sibling rivalry, asks us as he decides to make his first, and hopefully last, appearance of the day.

"Nope," Landon answers bluntly. He has no shame. He was called 'Ruthless Racer' for years for a reason. Xavier is the only one who still insists on calling him that. 

"Harsh, Lan." I narrow my eyes at him in warning before turning back to Xavier. "We don't ask you because we all already know that it's going to be you and JT going head-to-head, as usual," I answer truthfully. 

Grey will be third and from there on out, the rest is a mystery. It could go down either way. Landon and I are evenly matched yet he doesn't seem to be as consistent as me. His focus strays and that's when I get ahead of him. He can't stand losing to me -- not only am I his sister but I'm also a girl. He's incredibly sexist, so one can imagine how he hates it.

"And JT will win, as usual," Landon speaks up, trying to irritate Xavier. The two of them are always looking for ways to bicker with each other.

Xavier scoffs. "Perhaps not. He's been off his game ever since 'Kitten' left." He smirks in victory, "I'm going to use his heartbreak and play it to my strengths."

Lan and Xave are both real jerks sometimes...

"JT could be racing in a wheelchair and he'd still beat you," Landon mocks with a scornful look on his face -- the same look he always has when Xavier is around.

"It's only 'cause of his car," Xavier retorts, refusing to admit that he's not JT's equal. Jay is a better racer than him, than any of us; he just has a natural gift in street racing. 

"You ride the same car, idiot," Landon mutters, rolling his eyes at Xavier's poor excuse. "The only difference is that he rides in red and you in black. It suits you; you are the evil one."

"Landon," I huff, frustrated with my brother's remarks. "Be nice," I grumble, reprimanding him.

 Why can't he just ever be the better person? It's really not that difficult to be better than Xavier. It should be easy for just about any decent human being.

"I take pride in that," Xavier flashes my brother a pride-filled grin as if to match his statement.

"I'll take pride in beating you to a pulp!" Landon, having already lost his temper, grumbles in fury.

"Dial it back a little, dude," Xavier laughs, taking no offense. He never does. Sometimes, I swear he's a robot. He has no feelings.

"I will when you dial it back on the hair product," is Landon's comeback.

Xavier's hair is oddly always perfectly quaffed. He puts Malibu Barbie to shame with that hair of his.

"Real mature, you two," I roll my eyes at them before I head over to JT and Grey instead. 

"Those two at it again?" Grey asks upon seeing me join him and Jay.

I nod. "They never quit," I say before motioning them to follow. "Let's get to our cars in the meantime."

 We all approach the starting line after that.

Xavier, like always, lines his black Gallardo up next to my blue GT. He rolls his window down, as do I. "Enjoy eating my dust, Ems! I will catch you at the finish line," he talks smack, choosing to rile me up before the race -- it's how he operates. 

I rev my engine and wink at him, choosing to go with it. "We'll see," I grin daringly, placing my helmet on.

Landon gets in between us, honking his car horn repeatedly. "Break it up, you two! This isn't a flirt fest! Stop the shenanigans!"

I ignore Landon and blow a kiss to Xavier, hoping it will distract him long enough for me to get ahead of him. 

Before we can say anything more, the race commences, JT already taking the lead. However, my goal isn't to win but to beat Xavier. Beating JT seems too far out of reach right now. 

I find myself somewhere in the middle. Choosing to stay on the outer lane, I take my turns and curves with ease but not with precision like JT -- he's a master at taking sharp turns from the inner lane without crashing. His skill is flawless and somehow always leaves me speechless.

I amp up, pressing my foot down on the accelerator to increase my straight-line speed. I even use some juice to boost my speed.

There's just something about racing that sets you free. The feeling is indescribable. You can't explain it to someone who hasn't experienced it. It's not just a hobby or sport, it's a way of life. Ask anyone of us racers and we'll all say the same thing.

Before I even know it, I've already completed the first section. I'm trying my best to knock off some time from my personal bests but it sure isn't easy. There's nothing worse than racing against yourself.

Xavier, who has been beside me for most of the way, smirks at me before going full throttle. He zooms past me effortlessly and blows me a kiss back as an act of revenge. He could've passed me ages ago but he apparently decided it's best to only pass me on the final section.

I shoot him the middle finger before stepping up my game, trying desperately to catch up with him. At this point, it really does feel like I'm eating his dust.

On top of it all, Lan has caught up quickly from behind. My brother salutes me before overtaking me.

I hit my fist against the steering wheel in aggravation, the pressure now really on. I can't have Landon beating me too.

In the end, I come in fifth. It's not impressive; it's just sad.

I duck my head in shame as I finally cross the finish line. I picked up seconds instead of losing them. This race is humiliating and is definitely going to scar my rep around here. My street cred just died.

"Next time, huh, Sweetheart?" Xavier taps the hood of my car, taking the opportunity to mock me.

"Oh, go away," I mumble as I take off my helmet, allowing my red curls to fall in loose tumbles around my shoulders. I grumble out some more curse words at him before resting my head against the steering wheel.

It's not like he won. He came in second. He has no win to hold over my head. He shouldn't be so boastful. Second is good but it's still not first. The one who has full bragging rights is Jay Taylor but we all know he's too humble to do that. 

Before I know it, the passenger door opens.

I lift my head off the wheel to see that Xavier has helped himself into my car.

You've got to be kidding me!

"Get out," I order, reaching over him to open the passenger door again.

Xavier grabs hold of my hand before I can move back. "If you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask, sweet Ems."

I take my hand out of his grasp, not in the mood for his antics. "Seriously, just get out," I whine, hoping he'll listen for once.

A bold smirk crosses his lips. His eyes twinkle in pure mischief before he challenges me head-on, "Make me."

I back down, not up for this. "You're so annoying," I complain, running a free hand through my wine-red locks.

"So, are you going to make due on that kiss you blew me right in the beginning of the race?" he asks, taking a shot at flirting -- he can't help himself.

"Maybe I would've if I beat you," I tease and then pout, disappointed in myself.

"I'll keep that in mind." He whistles lowly as his eyes roam over me shamelessly, "How does a loser still manage to look so hot?" He makes a cheesy attempt to make me feel better about losing. He tends to stick around whenever I'm in a bad mood.

"Shut up, Xave," I retort, sitting up straight in my seat. I cross my arms over my chest and hold my own.

"Okay but first, take me some place nice," he insists and gets comfortable, motioning for me to start the car and take him somewhere, anywhere.

"You're kidding, right?" I question but knowing Xavier, he's really not. He's really going to force me to take him out -- this must be how he scores all of his dates.

He points at the stern expression on his face, "Does this face look like a joke to you, Love?" 

I open my mouth to answer but he's quick to shush me:

"Don't answer that!" he quickly snaps.

Hiding a smile, I start up my car again.

"Ah," Xavier leans back in his seat with his arms crossed behind his head, "our first date," he sighs in content. "We skipped the dating part and kind of went straight to the hooking-up part."

Does he have to constantly remind me?!

"It was an accident and this is not a date," I clarify. "I'm just really hungry."

"For donuts?" he asks with a wolfish grin, referring back to the day when we first met; that feels like a lifetime ago.

It might be the sanguine look in his eyes or the fact that he cheers me up but either way I cave.

"Sure. Why not?"