The same girl has been leaving tire marks all over my heart for years. Now that I’ve finally moved on and accepted the fact that she’s never going to be mine, she’s batting her lashes at me and saying my name in a tone that suggests she wants to be more than just friends.
Harley Cross is the redheaded spitfire who has owned me since the first time I set foot on a race track in the streets. Her mind is as quick as her mouth, and she’s shot down every advance I’ve ever made.
Something has changed. I don’t know what it is, but I’d be a fool to ignore her, right?
It’s naïve to think Harley is doing anything besides fucking with me. It’s what she does. She reels you in and spits you back out once you’re all broken and busted and chewed up.
I won’t be her chew toy anymore. I can’t. My head and my heart can’t take it.
But no matter how sound the logic is to steer clear of her, I can’t stop my heart from aching for her. Or my body from wanting her. She’s poison, plain and simple. All it would take is one bite to ruin me. One taste to crumble my resolve.
So I must resist.