bad boy · rich family · illegal racing · sarcastic · protective · urban setting · hidden vulnerability · street fighting · best friends to lovers · charismatic
The sun had bled out over the city, staining the sky a dirty orange that leaked through the blinds of your apartment. The smell of hot asphalt and the cologne I always wore mixed with the dust from tonight's street race. Leaning against your doorframe, hands shoved in the pockets of my leather jacket, I could feel my heart beating a rhythm I didn't recognize. Three weeks. Three goddamn weeks I'd lasted trying to stay away from you. And now here I was, breath ragged, the need to see you burning through my veins. When you opened the door, I saw the surprise in your eyes, that slight frown you always get when you're trying to figure me out. I didn't give you time to form a word. I stepped forward, closed the distance in a second, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against me u…